Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first snowfall of the season always brought with it a sense of tranquility. A blanket of white coated the earth, pristine and unsullied–and though the frigid snap of leafbare often came with the burden of illness, dwindling game, and wilting crops, the beauty of winter’s purity was a splendor that Izuku Midoriya had learned to appreciate despite its hardships.

Perhaps it was naivety—but as fur-lined boots sank into the snow underfoot with a satisfying crunch, wide green eyes glittered with mirth. Izuku’s head tilted back, one glove-clad hand resting at his forehead to act as a visor against the glare of the slow-growing sunrise. The bite of the brisk breeze left his freckled cheeks ruddy but he paid no mind, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he surveyed the quiet serenity of the world before him.

The barren branches glimmered overhead in the thin, gray light of dawn, a filigree of frost webbing its way through each individual frond. Only the chirping of a few lone birds could be heard in the distance, gentle and melodic in spite of the cold snap. Somewhere in the distance, the gulch nestled at the mountainside babbled quietly.

Venturing past the outskirts of his village at the cusp of daybreak was a risky task–something Izuku knew better than most; he had been scolded far too many times for tumbling back into the village while his mother spent the wee hours of dawn looking frantically for him, fretting with her brows pinched and lips twisted into a concerned frown.

The thump on the ear was always worth it, though, and as Izuku lifted up the woven handbasket tucked under his arm to show her the spoils of his early-morning foraging, she’d sigh, shake her head, and gently herd him back to their hut.

Warm bread was always waiting for him on the table along with a plate full of hand-churned butter and an assortment of jarred preserves–and as Izuku plopped into his seat, he’d rattle off to her all the wonderful things he had seen in his solitary trek. A fledgling winter wren stretching its wings for the first time, a rabbit’s burrow full of downy fluff to shield a litter of small, pink, wriggling kits, a particularly stunning spider web with fractals of ice clinging to each silken thread, glittering like foreign jewels in the shallow light…

While the modest but thrumming village of Musutafu proved to be a beacon of safety and comfort for its residents, his mother was quick to look at him with reproach. Every day, while Izuku slathered warm slices of bread with butter and preserved apricots, she’d remind him of one indisputable fact: wandering out in the woods unprotected is dangerous, especially for an omega.

The lecture was a tired one–and after a while, he had given up on listening altogether. His mother was a kind woman, a beta with a worrisome temperament–and though her endless fretting never wavered, Izuku found it far easier to concoct ways to bypass her warnings rather than heeding them.

The poultice of crushed burdock root and chervil fronds leaves the sensitive skin of his neck twinging with a subtle sting; the heady bitterness of the burdock mingles with the sweetness of the chevril, marrying together into a paste strong enough to mask even the most potent of pheromones. It was a concoction of his own making–and after slathering the paste onto the waxy side of a Gardenia leaf, all Izuku had to do was fasten it to the sensitive scent glands at the base of his neck.

It left his scent masked completely, rendering him almost undetectable as he darted through the maze of high-arching tree-trunks and thinning foliage hugging close to the snow-coated grounds. His mother would never be placated with his shrewd attempt at going unnoticed in the heart of the woods–but Izuku had always been too crafty, too witty to be left tethered to the village when there was a world of unexplored wonders just a stone’s throw away.

Izuku lifted a hand to let the pads of his fingers skim idly over the thick, glossy ridges of the leaf tucked against his scent gland–and once he was able to ensure that it was securely in place, his lips curled into a smile of thinly-veiled acceptance.

He didn’t have much time; the fingers of his free hand curled into the handle of the woven handbasket Izuku had grown fond of before he bounded forward, savoring the sound of the snow crunching beneath his boots. The crisp air of leafbare left him with his breaths collecting in a visible plume at his lips–but he paid no mind.

After all, there wasn’t much time before the warriors left for their first hunt. Demeter only knew what a spectacle it would be if the war chief’s collective of young alphas stumbled across a lone omega from their village frolicking about in the woods without an escort. It was already bad enough that Izuku had garnered a reputation amongst his neighbors for being unruly.

Omegas were meant to be caretakers, blessed by Demeter, herself, with the gift of nurturing new life. They weren’t destined for a life of roughhousing and violence. Bruises and scraped knees were meant for the alphas, the protectors and the fighters; they were the ones who would bear the burden of baring their teeth and bloodying their knuckles. It was a privilege for an alpha to protect their territory–and omegas, despite their divine blessings, were just another piece of society under the alphas’ supervision.

The idea of a life resigned to the never-ending task of tending to the hearth, however, was something that made Izuku’s stomach turn. He was never meant to be an omega, anyway–and no matter how hard Inko, the kind-hearted and well-meaning beta that she was, tried to plead with her son to at least try and assimilate with the other omegas his age, Izuku held his head high and refused to give in.

His presentation was always something he’d consider a mistake, an ugly scar that marred what would’ve been a promising career as an alpha warrior–but Demeter, while kind in her motherly divinity, had seemingly chosen not to smile upon the boy named Izuku Midoriya.

The years were slow-moving—but as with all wounds, time showed Izuku ways to salvage the fractured pieces of his broken dreams enough to give him a sense of purpose.

His daily adventures outside the watchful gaze of his mother soon grew into a much-needed escape for the boy with the wild mane of bouncing green curls. It was a comfort, a moment of stolen solitude where Izuku had no one to answer to but himself. He’d forage in peace, collecting plants and herbs both familiar and foreign until his basket was brimming with the spoils of his endeavor, before returning to the familiar (and sometimes droll) backdrop of Musutafu.

As the quiet chirping of the winter pheasants grew more pronounced, Izuku noted that he had the better part of an hour before he needed to duck his way back into the village. He trudged his way through the thinning undergrowth, wide green eyes flickering this way and that.

Izuku paused every few steps to inspect a cluster of mushrooms clinging to the decaying bark of a felled tree or to pick at a bundle of clovers—and as he slowly amassed a menagerie of clippings, roots, and stalks, he felt his chest swell with pride.

His early morning forage was fruitful despite the cold settling in with the season’s first snowfall and as he approached the familiar gurgle and babble of the gulch, Izuku exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. He plopped himself at the edge of a large, craggy stone sticking out over the shallow drop above the running water. There were flecks of ice glittering in the gray dawn light, forcing him to take care as he situated himself.

Poking through his basket, Izuku gave a small hum of appreciation. Fresh marigold buds, a collection of juniper berries, a healthy bundle of yarrow leaves, a single winter pear Izuku had found on a low-hanging branch, and a few edible mushrooms for his mother’s stew—it was a fairly modest haul, but with the colder seasons always came a weaker harvest and Izuku wasn’t the kind of person to be ungrateful for what little he could salvage from the powdery coating of fresh snow.

“Mom’s gonna love the mushrooms,” the omega chirped softly to himself, teeth worrying into his lower lip to conceal the small smile threatening to tug its way across his soft features. He set the basket aside, ensuring it was safe from tipping over and sending his curated collection toppling into the frigid water.

Izuku took his time to squat by the frothing crests of the running water splitting around the rocks jutting above the surface, cupping his hands enough to splash the ice-cold liquid against his face. It was frigid and left his flushed, freckled cheeks frost-bitten—but as Izuku gulped in a deep breath of the sharp winter air, he felt his senses grow invigorated. It was always refreshing to take part in nature’s beauty uninterrupted.

A part of him knew that letting himself unwind out in the open was a risky gamble, but as he reached up to feel for the waxy dressing keeping the paste of crushed leaves and roots slathered over his scent glands, Izuku clicked his tongue. They were still securely in place, the bitterness of the burdock marrying with the subtle, herbal sweetness of the chevril to fill his nose with every inhale.

Izuku wished for a brief moment that he could show his mother just how easily he had adapted a method to masking his scent out in the open, chest swelling with pride–but he knew in his heart that, despite Inko’s endless adoration and care, her worrisome demeanor would win out over everything else. At the end of the day, Izuku was still her omega son–and his penchant for tumbling about in the forest with scraped knees and bloody knuckles would only land him in a world of trouble in due time.

He paid no mind; Izuku had learned long ago to let sleeping beasts lie. He couldn’t change his mother’s mind, nor could he convince the village that an omega like him would make a fine warrior, regardless. Toshinori had been the only one to see the fiery passion burning in his chest–and even then, the retired war chief could only do so much to try and sate Izuku’s ever-growing desire to become stronger, to become independent.

As he reached a hand into his handbasket to pluck the pear, Izuku unfasted the thin dagger he had carved from the soft, malleable material of a growing buck’s shed antler from the belt fastened around his hips. The blade was just sharp enough to bite through the tender skin of the fruit, carving through it in careful, circular motions until a spiraling thread of green peel freed itself from the supple and juice-filled flesh. He exhaled a breath of a purr, the sound rattling in his chest before he lifted it to his mouth.

The first bite was always the sweetest. Juice dribbled down his chin as the pleased rumble within him grew louder and stronger. It was crisp and while the fruit itself was just a touch tart, it was a simple joy that Izuku savored. He sighed, dagger nestling back into its slotted hilt at his waist before he took another large, crunching bite from his breakfast.

Legs swung idly over the edge of the boulder he had taken residence on, wide green hues skimming over the babbling river, watching the subtle glitter of fish writhing beneath the frothing surface and a handful of dragonfly nymphs buzzing over the surface. The peaceful beauty of the woods was always Izuku’s safe haven and the longer he sat, the more he wished he could stay here forever.

As Izuku tilted his head back to study the thin, wispy clouds blocking the light of the blossoming sunrise, he found his thoughts wandering. He couldn’t help but recall memories of a time long gone–a time where he had scampered through the undergrowth with childish glee and pleased squeals on his lips. He wasn’t alone back then, though; he had companionship, a strong protector that was just as overzealous to take the world on by its horns as he was.

Back then, the woods were a place for laughter and play-fighting.

A place for two young pups to join hands and make promises neither one of them would be able to keep.

The memories felt faraway and faded, an old portrait deteriorated by years of wear and tear. He chewed slowly and all of a sudden, the sweetened flesh of his winter pear began to taste bittersweet. Nostalgia, Izuku decided, was far less welcoming than he was once led to believe. His brows furrowed and he forced himself to swallow the mouthful of now-soured fruit.

Izuku tilted the pear in his hand, studying the large chunk he had already bitten off. His mind swam for another brief moment. Flashes of blonde, glimpses of jewel-toned reds, and recollections of wild, raucous laughter–they felt just out of his grasp, slipping through his fingers only to rush away with the endless bubbling of the gulch he sat above. Suddenly, his freshly-foraged breakfast no longer looked as appetizing as it had initially.

Quietly, deft fingers plucked his dagger back out to slice the pear into smaller, bite-sized portions. He arranged them atop the smooth surface of the boulder, freckled cheeks puffed from his steady concentration. At the very least, Izuku thought, a hungry snow hare or wandering shrew would come across the pear and gorge itself on the feast until its belly was full and sated.

Izuku discarded the core before tucking his dagger away. Another breath puffed past his lips, collecting in a visible cloud before he moved to stretch his arms high above his head. His muscles trembled from the strain, a yawn leaving his eyes watering all the while. Maybe if he got up now, Izuku thought, he’d have enough time to see if he could find a bushel of yarrow. His stock back home was beginning to dwindle and it would do him some good to…

His thoughts, however, came to a grinding halt as the piercing caw of a murder of crows cut through the peaceful silence. Izuku’s head snapped back, brows pinching together as he surveyed the horizon. As quickly as their harsh cries echoed through the woods, an array of black, winged figures took to the skies.

Wonderful. The hunt was about to start.

Every morning, the warriors would descend upon the forest with their teeth bared and spears in hand, tasked with the glory of bringing fresh-kill back to Musutafu to feed the many hungry mouths of their village. It was a daily tradition–one that Izuku had hoped to participate in with bright eyes and a bushy tail.

His time for that had come and gone with no fruits of his labor to show for it–so now, Izuku had no choice but to watch from a distance as War Chief Todoroki’s latest team of freshly-minted warriors took to the woods to prove their chops.

… Which meant Izuku had to make his way back to the village. Fast.

The last thing he needed was for any one of the war chief’s brutish, knot-headed alphas to find him alone in the heart of the wilderness.

Or, at the very least, Izuku wanted to avoid one very specific alpha among War Chief Todoroki’s ranks, in particular.

Izuku knew that the apprentices that had recently been inducted into the official warrior ranks were fairly benevolent–if a little juvenile in their behavior. They were loud and boisterous, laughing at jokes better suited for rowdy teenagers than proper alpha warriors–but they were noble and uncomplicated. Painting them all with such broad strokes was certainly an injustice. Even Izuku knew that much.

Still, though; of the handful of alphas gunning for the role of future War Chief, the one Izuku hoped to see the least would surely prove to be the biggest problem if he stumbled across the omega all on his lonesome this far from the village border.

With a low sigh pushing past his lips, Izuku braced his weight on his knees and forced himself up. He swiped up his handbasket and used his free hand to adjust his cloak, ensuring that the waxed leaves holding the scent-blocking salve in place were still attached.

Drawing in a deep breath, Izuku felt his chest swell. The trek from the gulch to the village would end up crossing the path the warriors often took during the early part of their hunt, leaving the omega with only one other option.

As Izuku pulled the hood of his fur-lined cloak over his head, concealing a mess of wild verdant curls, he breathed out a low sigh of resignation.

“Guess I’ll have to take the long way home.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

Sure enough, the winding path Izuku chose to take proved to be an arduous journey.

Where it had only taken him the better part of an hour and a half to make his way from the village’s main square to the rocky overhang, Izuku barely managed to trudge past the threshold of Musutafu by highnoon. He had long since memorized the warriors’ hunting routes–and though the quietude that had managed to settle over the woods when he was three-quarters of his way back to the village implied that the boisterous pack of young alphas had concluded their hunt, he didn’t dare risk cutting through the foliage diagonally.

With his luck, he’d find them lying in wait, accusatory and slitted pupils surveying him with thinly-veiled amusement mingled with derision.

It’s how everyone looked at him–from the village elders to the curious young pups that ventured past their nurseries only to come across an omega with a scent that hardly registered and more bruises than sense. While Izuku had grown immune to the watchful stares and the muted whisperings, it was far easier to avoid an awkward run-in than not.

There was a narrow fringe of trimmed hedges tucked away on the western border of the village; it protected a fenced-in slope where the village donkeys grazed, long ears flicking away any flies that deigned to buzz around them. It was rarely guarded, making it Izuku’s favored form of re-entry away from any lingering eyes.

The small, prickly leaves of the foliage scraped uncomfortably against his skin as he pushed his way through, hands reaching up to swipe away the waxy leaves resting at his scent glands before he wiped away the excess slave clinging to his skin. He huffed, brows furrowing as the thin thorns of the foliage prickled his skin. He paid no mind, however, managing to step his way through the bushes and into the fenced-off pen.

“Good morning, Moony,” the omega murmured in greeting as he skirted past the gray-furred equine. One hand moved to gently pet her snout before the donkey flicked its ears–in amusement this time. She bleated shortly, a low and unintelligent sound, but as Moony reared her head only to bonk her muzzle against the palm of Izuku’s outstretched hand, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, feigning defeat. Izuku rummaged through the interior pocket of his cloak before procuring a handful of dandelion greens.

Moony had been so gracious to keep his secrets for all this time and Izuku found it to be a horrific disservice to return to his dutiful keeper empty-handed. He had tried carrots before and even a handful of berries, but Moony the donkey seemed to have a rather strange predilection for greens and herbs. She was a strange one–much like him–and he couldn’t begrudge her that.

The smile on his lips grew as Moony bleated once more, the fuzz against her wet lips tickling the heel of his palm. He could feel her blunt teeth scraping against his skin but Izuku didn’t waver, his other hand reaching to smooth out her bristly mane and pick out any stray pieces of hay clinging to it.

“You know, Moony,” the omega cooed gently, voice little more than a murmur, “you’re probably one of my only friends here.” The donkey flicked her ear and made a non-committal noise, head bowed over her gift of greens. Izuku chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I promise I’ll try to find some mustard greens next time.” The donkey reared its head, wide nostrils flaring with a gruff noise as she turned dark, shiny eyes up at him. Izuku leaned forward, gently bonking his forehead to her muzzle in a show of affection. “I gotta go, though. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

She swished her tail, wiry bristles slicing through the air and knocking a few flies off in the process.

Izuku spared the animal one last smile before gathering his handbasket and adjusting his cloak. All he had to do now was make it back to the town square in time to fetch a loaf of bread before the fresh batch was sold out…

“Why did I know you’d be here talking to the donkeys at this hour?”

The sound of a calm, almost demure drawl forced Izuku to damn near stumble over a pile of donkey dung. “Shoto!” The name slipped past his lips with a slightly pitched squeak. Green eyes grew wide as Izuku caught himself against the wooden picket of the enclosure’s fence, head flying up to catch sight of his newfound companion. “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried you’d go to the square without me!”

Standing at the edge of the wooden fence was a beautiful omega with soft and supple ivory skin, pale as the moon and just as ethereal. Neatly styled locks were split down the middle, one half a deep, fiery red while the other was a shock of pure snow-white. Peering out from beneath the fringe of his bangs were a pair of bi-colored eyes–a sharp, penetrating blue and a smooth slate-gray–sparkling with mild curiosity. His features were just as delicate, dainty and sweet.

Everything about the War Chief’s youngest son exuded the essence of the picture-perfect omega. Well-bred, well-kept, and well-mannered–albeit somewhat unexpressive. There were times when Izuku often felt embarrassed to stand next to him but after years of cultivating their friendship, the green-haired omega couldn’t help but beam over at him.

Izuku hopped over the fence with a quiet grunt, legs swinging over before he landed in the dirt patch to Shoto’s right.

Shoto lifted an eyebrow at him with mild curiosity, side-stepping to give Izuku enough space to shake out the dirt clinging to the thick material of his cloak. He eyed him with subtle suspicion, lips pressing together in the only betrayal of his unimpressed distaste. “You smell like a barn,” Shoto supplied plainly.

With a scoff, Izuku rolled his eyes. He raked his fingers through the wild mess of his curls, grimacing only slightly as he picked out a stray twig and a handful of fallen leaves out of them. “Well, considering I did just make my re-entry through the stables…” Izuku puckered his lips and blew a stray curl coiled loosely against his forehead. “Smelling like a rosebed doesn’t seem all that possible.”

As Izuku rummaged through the remaining items in his handbasket, Shoto breathed out a low sigh of defeat. He reached out without another word, thin fingers wrapping around Izuku’s wrist with a light squeeze. “Come,” he murmured, his lilting voice gentle and as soft as satin, “the longer we waste our time here by the mules, the less time we have to peruse the market.” Shoto tugged his arm, already beginning to wander forward.

“Alright, alright!” Izuku couldn’t help but breathe out an amused chuckle, stumbling behind the other omega in his haste to keep up. “Her name’s Moony, by the way.”

“You’re the only one who calls her that,” Shoto retorted, the faintest hint of a scoff coloring the edges of his voice. The silken material of his robe brushes against Izuku’s wrist, tickling his dirt-caked skin.

It always amazed him how someone so different from him, someone who not only accepted his role as an omega but embraced it, could be bothered to grant Izuku the privilege of his mere presence.

Where Izuku was covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat at any given time, Shoto was scrubbed clean with baby-soft skin and shining, silken locks. Where Izuku yearned to wrestle his way through the world, Shoto found solace in the coddling an omega of his status was not only afforded, but entitled to.

They were not only different, but from entirely different worlds. There was once a time when jealousy would send sharp pangs through his chest as he thought to himself–his mother would’ve been happier with a son like Shoto, a son who didn’t rebel with his teeth bared and his hands curled into fists. Maybe she’d worry less. Maybe the permanent crease that had etched itself on her forehead in the spot between her brows wouldn’t have formed, at all.

“I keep telling you to take an escort with you whenever you want to leave the village.” Shoto’s gentle chiding pulled Izuku from his thoughts. “You wouldn’t have to sneak your way back in and get yourself covered in donkey manure.” His voice, while calm and complacent, held the slightest edge of a taunt to it.

Izuku found himself biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt at quelling the smirk threatening to pull its way onto his lips. “You know, I read in one of the books in your father’s library that in some nations, manure is utilized as a way to keep your skin soft and rejuvenated.” He gave a suggestive waggle of his brows. “Maybe I’ll scoop up a handful and slather it all over you…”

He clicked his tongue before shooting Izuku a look of mild irritation through narrowed eyes–which only pulled another flurry of barely-concealed giggles. Izuku barely managed to squeak out a sorry! before Shoto made it a point to stomp on his foot as they walked.

“Enough with your dirty habits.” Shoto’s tone, while cool and collected, held the faintest hint of a tease. “If I don’t get a loaf of Mrs. Shindo’s milk bread because you were making me late, I’ll never forgive you.

In spite of himself, Izuku grinned. “Yeah, yeah! Whatever you say!”

Chapter Text

The trees fringing the pathways began to thin. The distant sound of hooves clopping against cobblestone mingled with the excited whoops and calls of enthusiastic vendors before it began to crescendo.

Soon enough, the narrow path winding through the outskirts of the village opened up, spilling into the wide, bustling town square of Musutafu. Vendor stalls were installed in every corner, lining the streets and creating zig-zagging walkways for those interested in perusing the wares to inspect to their hearts’ content.

At the far edge, two large thoroughbreds pawed at the ground with their hooves, nostrils flaring with a pitched whinny.

The horses stood idly for now, a large carriage attached to their reins. There were two alphas standing inside the open-roofed wagon, barking at one another as they dragged large wooden crates off of it and onto the cobblestone ground.

Not too far off from them, another group of workers were attempting to string a thin rope with a collection of multicolored ribbons hanging off of it along the awning of the bakery.

The air smelled of sweet loaves and fresh fruit, muddled by a touch of fresh hay. It felt warm despite the frigid snap of winter that had already taken root and as Izuku drew to a halt at the mouth of the town square, his eyes grew wide.

“Oh, wow,” Izuku breathed out, “I didn’t realize it would be this packed already.”

Shoto gave his wrist another tight squeeze. “I told you,” he chastised. He tilted his head, glancing over his shoulder to give him a quizzical look through a mild gaze. “The festival preparations are starting so everyone’s out here.” Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Ah, right.

The solstice festival.

Izuku’s silence was all the answer Shoto seemingly needed. The dual-toned omega exhaled a breath of a sigh, though it lacked any real annoyance behind it.

“Izuku…”

“You know I think the festival is a load of–”

An elbow dug sharply into his side, a quiet but reproachful hiss gritting out through Shoto’s teeth. “Don’t.” It was a well-intentioned warning, a quiet murmur into Izuku’s ear. “The last thing we need is for you to be caught for heresy.”

Izuku pressed his lips together to bite back his sigh of irritation. The solstice festival was a spectacle that he never bought into; it felt archaic and reductive, a testament to a world that should have been left in the past if Izuku’s opinions had any merit to them.

But at the same time, he knew well and good that his spiteful opinions on the patron goddess of their village would earn him more than just a thump to his ear or a long-winded lecture.

He forced out a low groan, the sound lodging deep in his chest. “You know what I mean, though,” Izuku said meaningfully, tilting his head to give Shoto a long look.

The other omega sighed, unclasping their hands in favor of smoothing out the patterned blue silk of his robes. “I do,” he stated, his tone simple and concise. “But that doesn’t mean you can skip out.”

Izuku’s lips twisted into a wobbly frown. The entire premise of Demeter’s winter solstice festival left him with a sour taste in his mouth. Adjusting the grip he had on his handbasket, Izuku flexed his fingers and heaved out a breath through his nose, avoiding Shoto’s eyes despite the way his gaze burned into his back.

Skirting past him, he pawed through a display of fresh apples with idle interest, head bowed and lips curled down. He felt Shoto’s presence before the other omega bothered to speak again, the familiarity of the other omega’s warmth followed soon after by the clean, comforting scent of fresh linens and a hint of lavender leaving the subtle tension coiled in Izuku’s muscles to slowly unravel.

“If it’s any consolation,” Shoto started again, his voice careful as he sifted through his words, “you’ll get to stick by me the entire time.” His murmur was soft and delicate, little more than a quiet whisper breathed out just loud enough for only Izuku to hear.

Demeter’s festival was a tradition held by their village for as long as time can remember, an homage to the patron goddess of fertility and harvest to show her gratitude for providing another year of new life and hope.

Every year, under the watchful gaze of the moon as it hung at its highest during the solstice, when the night was at its longest, an alpha and an omega hand-selected by the goddess, herself, would consummate their union–and with their coupling, the new year would be ushered in with prayers for a bountiful harvest and litters of healthy pups.

The week-long affair leading up to the solstice, itself, was a village-wide celebration; it was during the first night of festivities that Demeter would (supposedly) come to the chosen pair in their dreams, whispering sweetly that it was time to Awaken their True Mate–a concept that most other nations, cities, and villages had relegated to the past.

An old wives tale for hopelessly romantic omegas that tried to trick themselves into complacency.

After all, the idea of living a life under the servitude of an alpha needed something to sweeten the ordeal. At the very least, the manufactured comfort of a True Mate, a fated other half, was enough to soothe the discomfort many omegas felt.

Very few bought into the concept of soulmates nowadays, but the village of Musutafu held on to the tales of soul-ties and fated entanglements with reverence and devotion.

Izuku, however, found himself with the burning desire to laugh any time he so much as attempted to fathom the idea, at all.

Demeter was supposed to choose soulmates with nothing but good intentions. Those who were smiled upon by the goddess of fertility and harvest were nothing short of perfection. Only the finest alpha that had proven his worth to the village would be suitable—and for him? Demeter would deliver an omega that embodied fertility, kindness, and motherhood.

To be selected by Demeter was a privilege to most–but in his eyes, it felt like a death sentence.

Izuku had only one consolation through the painstaking experience of enduring yet another solstice festival—he wasn’t the kind of omega that Demeter would want. He wasn’t the kind of omega that anyone would want, at all.

He was always too scrappy, too rough around the edges to be suited for a life of nurturing and homemaking. Izuku’s desires consisted of wind rushing through his wild mane of green curls and the freedom of the forest opening up before him. Izuku craved the thrill of a hunt, the pride of protecting his village, and the camaraderie of those he’d consider his fellow warriors.

Dreams of a young alpha pup slashed prematurely—but despite his reality, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to let them go. He held on, enduringly, with his knuckles running white and his fingers cramped.

There were many times after he had given up on ever becoming an alpha that Izuku had hoped that, at the very least, he’d present as a beta. Most of his peers had started to develop their scent glands by their young teens—but even then, Izuku trailed far behind the normal development process.

His mother began to fret—as she often did—before carting her son from healer to healer. Once, after all the healers in their village had come to the decisive conclusion that they simply didn’t have an answer, Izuku remembered his mother asking the former war chief for his company to a neighboring village situated on the other side of the forest to see the only other healer worth their salt.

The journey took damn near a fortnight; the village of Yuuei is where Toshinori had been raised and as they crossed the threshold of the territory, warm smiles and pleased expressions waited to greet them.

The healer of Yuuei was a highly-respected woman. Small in stature and a sweet but wrinkled face that betrayed numerous decades of wisdom and knowledge, the healer took her time to examine the boy while his mother anxiously wrung her hands behind him, hovering with wide eyes and bitten lips.

Izuku wasn’t sure what he had expected. A part of him hoped that this healer would finally unearth the fact that he was just another beta—normal and average and far from remarkable, but sturdy enough to build a life for himself. Izuku could handle being plain or even uninteresting if it meant his life was within his own control.

The healer gently palpated the side of his neck—and while all the others had done the same, Izuku could tell she was far more attentive, pale gray brows pinching and soft hums leaving her over small increments of time.

When she opened her mouth, both Izuku and Inko Midoriya perked up to listen.

And when she spoke, Izuku’s entire world shattered.

”His presentation is late, yes,” the healer mused, “but there’s no reason to fret.” Her thin, spindly fingers clutched at the thick end of her cane as she leaned her weight against it. “His glands are developing; the only reason they haven’t matured fully yet is because this young man hasn’t accepted his inner omega just yet.”

Omega. It sounded like the call of an executioner, beckoning for Izuku to offer himself up to the wood block destined for his demise. Omega. He was an omega. He was just as useless as—

“Our secondary natures are physical, yes, but so much of your growth and development is mental, too. As he grows and matures, they’ll come into being one with another. You need not stress over this one.” She placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder and gave him a tender but knowing squeeze. “Give him time. There’s no reason to rush what will happen at its own pace.”

Inko was blissfully relieved, pleased to know that her son was healthy despite being a runt compared to his peers.

Izuku, however, sat in catatonic silence through the three sunrises and moons it took to get back to Musutafu.

Being forced to acknowledge the quiet, simpering creature that lingered in his ribcage awakened his second nature. After sitting in his room in solitude, rickety wooden door locked from the inside to keep Inko and later Toshinori at bay, he wept.

Wept that he’d be the very thing he hated the most, the thing that would rip his future away from him cruelly and unashamedly. Wept that his fear had been confirmed. Wept that he’d never get back what he wanted the most—the proud but wild grin of a childhood friend that reached out for him.

The omega within him whined and it whimpered—but the more Izuku tried to swallow it down and bury it away, the more his insides ached. It was finally at the age of fifteen, a bit later than others his age, that not only his scent glands finally presented with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers and morning dew, but his first heat cycle wracked his body until he was delirious, too.

After that, he begged his mother to find a healer that could be convinced to provide him with a tincture that could suppress his heats. She was reluctant but the genuine pain in her son’s splintering voice urged her on.

In the three and a half years since then, Izuku did everything he could to keep the lingering traces of his second nature fully at bay.

Izuku, the omega that rejected his nature, could never see himself tethered to a traditional alpha for the rest of eternity. It could never be him. It would never be him–not if he had a damn thing to say about it. He wasn’t blessed by Demeter and he never would be, the strange omega boy that stood with his back to the life of tradition so heavily revered by his people.

Shoto, however, was his opposite.

A pristine omega with a beautiful complexion and a nurturing demeanor, Shoto Todoroki was Musutafu’s sweetheart. Alabaster skin and a piercing gaze made more exotic by the heterochromia that split him into two halves down the center, he was primed and prepared for a life of royalty and luxury.

The fact that he even wasted his time to provide company to Izuku was ludicrous in the eyes of many—but the pair were good friends with a solid foundation. Shoto balanced Izuku’s rough and tumble demeanor while Izuku provided Shoto with new perspectives and interesting stories of the woods beyond reach.

His beauty was practically unrivaled within their village—but his mild-mannered and soft-spoken demeanor was what had every alpha enamored by him. Pretty and seemingly complacent, a perfect match for an alpha that prided tradition.

Izuku didn’t doubt it–not even for a second. Shoto was everything he’d never be, after all, and it only made sense that War Chief Todoroki’s omega son would be the very picture of what Demeter would value in her selection.

Plucking a particularly shiny-looking apple from the top of the bunch, Izuku turned it over in his palm. He took great interest in searching for any pockmarks, any sign of rot or decay that might have eaten through its flesh, as he considered Shoto’s consolation.

He finally exhaled a low sigh and lifted his head to spare Shoto a muted half-smile.

“Yeah,” he conceded gently, letting his shoulder bump into Shoto’s.

It was customary for the chosen omega to have a party of their most trusted friends and family at their side throughout the duration of the celebration–tending to them, keeping them clean & fresh, and soothing them through the high-stress courting rituals that the festival was best known for–and to be hand-picked as a fellow omega worthy enough to be at the right hand of the selected was a privilege that not even Izuku was dumb enough to scorn.

“Yeah, I will. And I can’t be any happier for you, Shoto, really.” His words lacked his earlier annoyance, voice soothing into a gentle coo as he peered back at his friends. “It would be an honor to be there for you.”

Bi-colored eyes sparkled as Shoto gazed back at him. His neutral expression lit up ever so slightly, the smallest pull to his lips leaving a gentle but timid smile over his soft features. He reached over with one hand, clasping Izuku’s own to give it a tight, grateful squeeze.

Izuku glanced down, studying Shoto’s pale, tapered fingers as they wrapped around his scarred and calloused knuckles.

Of course it would be Shoto. The perfect, ideal Shoto Todoroki. Whatever alpha Demeter deemed to be his True Mate would be blessed and the least Izuku could do was show his support.

“Thank you, Izuku,” Shoto murmured, allowing his weight to lean into his side momentarily. Izuku could feel the soft vibrations of the omega purring, delicate and gentle, to show his appreciation for Izuku’s support in spite of his misgivings regarding the situation.

Izuku breathed out a laugh, swinging one arm over Shoto’s shoulders automatically. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d give an arm and a leg to be there for you, wherever you needed me. We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah,” Shoto blossomed with another kind, timid smile, leaning into him. “We’re friends.”

“Is there anyone you’re hoping for in particular?” Izuku ventured hesitantly after a moment, sparing a glance at the other form over his shoulder.

Shoto’s smile shifted into a thoughtful expression, brows pinching together ever so slightly. “Ah, well. I’m sure you’ve heard the village talk.” His tone was meek but that didn’t stop Izuku from lifting a brow.

He wasn’t one to mingle too heavily with the others in Musutafu; very few of them had a tolerance for his rough exterior and smart-mouthed retorts. Izuku was polite, yes, but he was quick to run to the aid of an injured pup with a scraped knee, running after lost toys that fell into the woods, and to pick up large cargo items when the working alphas were shorthanded around the town–all things an omega like him should leave to the alphas... or even the betas, if there were any available nearby.

Listening to the local drivel of gossip had Izuku feeling as if his brain would start to melt directly out of his ears–so he tended to fill his time without Shoto by tending to the garden behind his family’s hut or reading through scrolls he had snatched from the Todoroki’s library by the firelight.

Even then, though, Izuku wasn’t stupid. He was keen enough to keep tabs on the village’s happenings.

Especially when it came to the warriors.

The alphas that Izuku had salivated to be when he was nothing more than a young pup, himself.

Izuku passed his tongue over his teeth to prevent himself from sucking in a slow, irritated breath. “Don’t tell me,” he started, his voice suddenly dropping to a dry drawl, “you think it’s him?”

Shoto huffed out a sigh. “Considering he is my father’s favorite out of the latest batch of apprentices he took in…” His words trailed off as he gave Izuku a knowing look.

The green-haired omega pursed his lips, barely able to contain the sudden jolt of annoyance that left his teeth clicking together. Of course it would be him–the village’s strongest alpha on the warrior scene.

The embodiment of power, of victory–the alpha with the bared teeth and wild sneers. The alpha who would one day conquer nations if the gods continued to smile upon him, the one with the ego and the arrogance to back it all up, to boot.

The alpha that turned Izuku’s entire life upside down and upended the last shreds of his confidence when they were still pups.

Of course it would be him–who else would be the kind of alpha that deserved the accolades, the glory, of being the Chosen One?

Izuku didn’t realize how deeply his scent curdled until Shoto wrinkled his nose and made an audible, choked-up noise. He gave Izuku another sharp nudge, clearing his throat. “You already smell,” he complained, voice low and flat, “stop stinking it up even more.”

A warm flush stained Izuku’s freckled cheeks and he squeaked out a stuttered apology, one hand reaching to slap up over his neck. The remnants of his scent-blocking salve left the skin there sticky, souring the curdled scent of spoiled milk radiating off of him even further. He swallowed, forcing himself to quell the prickling irritating within his chest–and as Izuku dragged a few deep, steadying breaths into his lungs, Shoto began to relax at his side.

Shoto reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze. “Are you okay?” The question was posed softly, gentle and probing, as his gaze lingered on Izuku’s wobbling lower lip.

“Yeah,” Izuku sighed out, giving his head a brisk shake. “It’s just… you know how it is. I used to know him when we were little and after everything… it feels a little weird to think about one of my best friends being possibly mated to–”

“Bakugou!”

The sound of a bellowing call cut Izuku’s words off prematurely. Automatically, he and Shoto snapped their heads to the side, eyes growing wide as the throng of people packed into the town square parted.

Izuku’s brows furrowed, wide green hues searching through the crowd to find the source of the voice–but as his gaze wandered to where the cobblestone was left open, he felt himself blanch.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Marching through the very core of Musutafu with his chest puffed out with pride and his head held high was Katsuki Bakugou, himself, dripping with arrogance as thick as honey.

His wild grin left his teeth bared and glittering crimson hues were slitted at the pupils. Despite the frigid cold of winter, he was bare-chested, a thin sheen of sweat leaving each and every one of his thick, defined muscles on full display as he led his fellow warriors forward.

He had a thick, fur-lined cloak draped over his (unfortunately sculpted, terribly flexed) shoulders, the trim of it fluttering in the brisk breeze that whipped by.

Held in one hand was his broadsword, the blade still tinged scarlet from the blood of his kill–and only a handful of steps behind him were the other young warriors that seemed to fall into step under Katsuki’s direction.

Behind him, an alpha with spiky red hair–Eijirou Kirishima, if Izuku remembered correctly–and another blonde with a lightning-bolt of black cutting through his bangs–Denki Kaminari–had two ends of a rope slung over their shoulders. They, too, were covered in sweat, grinning ear to ear as they dragged the spoils of their hunt into the village square for the people’s admiration.

The moment Izuku’s gaze landed on the animal, he felt his eyes grow wide and his jaw dropped.

Dragging behind them was an entire moose, large and unmoving. It was a behemoth of a creature–dark, coarse fur and wide, intimidating antlers. Moose always granted the village with the most meat–and an entire one could feed everyone for at least a handful of meals.

Winter hunts were so rarely fruitful when the cold was at its worst. Smaller game animals and poultry were the norm for this time of the year–and yet, Katsuki Bakugou managed to strut back into Musutafu, not a single scratch or antler-wound on him, with an entire moose to serve his people.

Not a deer. Not a caribou. Not even a damn elk. But a moose.

As if that weren’t enough, the last of Katsuki’s troop, a dark-haired alpha with a wide, toothy grin named Sero Hanta, brought up the caboose with a wheeled wagon filled to the brim with smaller game. From where Izuku stood at the far end of the square, he could make out a handful of rabbits as well as the sprained wing of a pheasant… but from the looks of it, there was clearly more under the tip of that pile.

Izuku felt sick.

As quickly as they arrived, the crowds fringing the square immediately roared to life with whoops and cries of joy and excitement; the prospect of fresh venison and other game to gorge themselves on during the upcoming festivities sent the residents of Musutafu into a pleased fervor.

Some cheered, others congratulated the young alpha that had spearheaded the operation–but the truth of the matter was that damn near everyone was fawning over the brute.

The look of smug arrogance on Katsuki’s sharp features never once wavered, a low rumble bubbling from deep within his chest. It was loud enough that even Izuku and Shoto could hear it over the din of the crowd.

An alpha like him, after all, thrived on praise and glory. He’d always be the best and he’d damn well make sure everyone knew it.

Even Izuku. Especially Izuku.

The irritation prickling in Izuku’s chest suddenly flared, a white-hot flash of anger burning through him until he clenched and unclenched his hands into fists at his side. He didn’t care that his scent soured despite the way Shoto’s nose scrunched as he took a step back.

He was too busy to notice; Izuku’s brows were furrowed and his intense glare was honed in on the very object of his ire.

Izuku wished he was up there, too. His heart ached and the frustration welling up within him threatened to boil over entirely. He couldn’t focus on anything but the sudden rush of blood in his ears, leaving the sounds of the adoring crowd muffled and faraway.

Vaguely, he registered Katsuki’s familiar, raspy growl–something about how tonight, the village will feast on his kill and that he would bring honor to Demeter just as she intended.

Confidence stuck to him like a second skin, coating him in the glow of something entirely untouchable, something far beyond the realm of understanding possessed by the rejects and losers of the world–losers like Izuku.

He’d never compare. He was defenseless Izuku, the useless Deku that would never be able to match him.

When burning red eyes locked onto stubborn and determined greens, Izuku felt his heart lurch against the confines of his ribcage. His insides squeezed together and the uncomfortable nausea rolling through him became almost unbearable.

Their gazes held onto one another for what felt like either an eternity or a mere moment–but as Katsuki’s jaw ticked enough for the muscle in it to jump visibly, Izuku gritted his teeth and squared his shoulders.

When the blonde finally turned away, chest puffing back up as he regaled the harrowing events of his morning to any villager that would listen, Izuku felt something within him wither.

Even through the crowd, the thick, musky scent of pine trees and burnt sugar left Izuku’s throat tight and his head swimming. He choked, swallowing the sound back before he finally snatched his handbasket back up and turned on his heel.

“Izuku?” Shoto’s worried voice floated somewhere behind him. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” he mumbled.

Whether Demeter chose to bless Shoto or not, Izuku could only think of one thing.

He pitied the poor omega cursed with the task of tending to Katsuki Bakugou’s ego for the rest of eternity.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

“Oi, Bakugou!” The heavy carcass of their slain moose dragged dully through the snow. “Y’mind given’ us a hand? It’s your kill, after all!”

Katsuki clicked his tongue with thinly-veiled annoyance, jewel-toned eyes flashing as he snapped his gaze over to the source of the airy complaints. A part of him knew that trudging along with his shoulders squared and a glower dark enough to frighten even Hades into submission made him look more petulant than anything else, like a sour teenager that had been scolded for rowdy and immature behavior more than the proper alpha he was–but that did little to quell the annoyance prickling deep within his chest.

“Maybe if you took yer damn thumbs outta your ass and put some fuckin’ effort into it, you wouldn’t need my help,” he snapped, an ill-tempered growl lodging in his chest. It was a juvenile response, fueled more by his simmering temper than anything else–but as he stomped forward, boots catching half-melted snow until it melted into the fur trim, he was grateful to see that the other alpha wasn’t all too phased.

Eijirou had always been far too patient when it came to Katsuki’s whiplash temper; they’d been playmates from a young age, having kindled a brotherly bond in their youth when they had first been placed into the same batch of young alphas primed for a future in defense and glory.

He was an intimidating bloke–wild red locks styled into jagged spikes and sharpened teeth that could frighten even the bravest warrior in the dead of night–but despite it all, he carried himself with the effervescent charisma of an overgrown lapdog.

How Eijirou managed to maintain his fairly docile temperament through the years was well beyond Katsuki’s comprehension–but he had long since learned to stop questioning it.

Looking a gift horse in the mouth would only get your teeth kicked in eventually… and while Katsuki was often quick to sound off with hot-headed sneers, losing a comrade as loyal and understanding as Eijirou would be a blow he wasn’t willing to take.

Except right now, the crease of mild concern nestled between Eijiro’s brow only served to heighten Katsuki’s mounting anger. His blood pressure spiked and, without thinking, the blonde-haired alpha bared his teeth and rumbled out a low, warning growl–one that said quit bitching and put your ass to work.

Eijirou didn’t back down; instead, the other alpha merely flared his nostrils and angled himself to the side as Katsuki fell into step with him. “You got ants in your pants or something?” He posed the question idly, lacking any malice or malintent as he studied Katsuki’s muscular profile. “You killed an entire moose, man. You should be proud.”

“I am proud, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki snapped, one scarred hand wrapping tightly around the fraying end of the rope wrapped around one of the dead moose’s hind legs.

He hoisted it over his shoulder and shifted his stance, dropping low enough to the ground that his center of gravity steadied itself. He gritted his teeth and pulled forward, exhaling a grunt through his nostrils.

The red-haired alpha bleated dumbly in surprise as the single pull from Katsuki dragged the behemoth of an animal damn near half a meter forward through the snow.

“Alright, alright! Sheesh, was just worried about you,” Eijiro pressed, quickly scrambling to brace himself enough to help. “You just… got kinda pissy all of a sudden.”

Before Katsuki could respond, the very irritating, very nasally whoop of one of the other warriors cut through the air. “It’s ‘cause our little Katsuki’s ner-vou-ous!” Two harmonized snickers followed suit. “You know what toni-i-ight is!”

Another equally irritating voice joined the fray–”Bakugou’s gonna find his soulma-a-a-ate!”

That’s it.

Katsuki snarled, dropping the rope in his hands in favor of turning pointedly on his heels. “Will you assholes shut the hell up?” His bark was underscored by a deep, foreboding rumble lodged deep within his chest. The alpha in him raised its hackles as his lips curled enough for him to bare his teeth. “All your fuckin’ yapping is giving me a damn migraine, so shut yer traps and move.”

Staring back at him with lips trembling from the strain of quelling their intense desire to belly-laugh at Katsuki’s ire are the last two alphas to round out the blonde’s team.

“We are moving, Bakugou.” Denki–a blonde-haired alpha with a black, lightning-shaped streak cutting through his bands–didn’t bother masking the borderline-lecherous smirk tugging at his lips. Something glinted in the depths of his amber gaze, something that seemed to say he knew something that Katsuki didn’t. “Don’t be such a diva just ‘cause you’re too much of a prude to acknowledge the fact that we all know what you’re gonna be up to in a week.”

Katsuki’s jaw fell slack from the shock he felt at the other alpha’s sheer level of stupidity. He didn’t get a chance to snarl out his retort before Hanta’s snickering beat him to the punch.

“Katsuki Bakugou’s about to get frea-kay!” Hanta’s croon dripped with a mocking taunt–and Denki only supplanted his idiotic ramblings with a loud ow-ow! at his side.

With his rage finally boiling over, Katsuki gritted his teeth and dropped the rope from his hands. “You fuckin’ assholes!” He gritted his words out through clenched teeth, the growl rumbling in his chest amplifying into a snarl of warning.

His boots crunched angrily into the snow with every stomp, muscled shoulders square and hands balled up into fists at his sides–and though Katsuki stood tall at his frightening height with the primed ferocity of an alpha at his prime, neither Denki nor Hanta seemed phased.

Katsuki balled up a fist into the front-hem of Hanta’s cloak, dragging the thinner alpha up onto his toes until they were nose to nose. “If you don’t shut the hell up, I swear I’ll kill you.” The guttural rasp coloring his words, however, failed to leave the threatening impression he had hoped for it to.

Hanta’s grin only widened, toothy and wolfish. “Aw, there’s no need to be embarrassed, Bakugou, really.” He had the nerve to reach forward and pat Katsuki’s bare chest in consolation. “We all knew it was gonna happen one day or another. Y’know, I think you’d actually benefit from getting laid.”

“Hah?” Katsuki spat out in retaliation, hoisting Hanta up even further. “Who the hell said I was embarrassed?” He tactfully dodged the comment on whether or not he’d benefit from bedding an omega. His deep, piney scent, however, soured almost instantly–almost as if to betray Katsuki’s touchiness on the subject.

When Hanta only raised an eyebrow at him knowingly in lieu of an answer as his curdled pheromones filled the air, the blonde snapped his teeth and released him entirely. “I have no idea what the hell you assholes are talkin’ about,” Katsuki lied, his words low and heavy with annoyance.

The dark-haired alpha grunted out a muted oof! before planting his feet firmly back on the ground. He puffed his chest out and flashed a rakish grin of triumph. “Sure you don’t,” Hanta ventured, “which is why you’re stinking up the whole damn place, right?”

Denki coughed to conceal his laugh. “Please, we all know what tonight is… and more importantly, we all know that Bakugou’s gonna be the lucky stud to carry on Demeter’s legacy.”

“Guys, maybe lay off? Bakugou doesn’t look so thrilled…” Kirishima somehow managed to remain the sole voice of reason despite Denki and Hanta’s childish antics.

“Which is entirely confusing, if you ask me!” Denki huffed out a deep, dramatic sigh. “If I was chosen by the patron goddess of fertility and given a pretty omega on a silver platter to knock up, I’d be elated. Ecstatic, even!”

“Yeah!” Hanta, it seemed, would simply perish if he didn’t join Denki in his crass declarations. “I mean, come on. Everyone knows Bakugou’s the most eligible alpha in the village.”

Katsuki felt the veins at his temple throb angrily–though his annoyance was starting to shift from focusing on the two knotheaded idiots behind him to the event in question.

The winter solstice was upon them–and every year, the village provided their offerings to their patron goddess in hopes of a fruitful harvest and a year of health, prosperity, and new life.

The myths and folklore on their own, however, meant little more than bullshit to him. He was too pragmatic, too driven by physical results–whether they came in the form of blood, sweat, or tears–to let his mind grow clouded with delusions of divine grandeur.

He wasn’t the kind of man that fell to his knees in their temple to beg Demeter for her good favor–because if there was one thing Katsuki Bakugou would do, it was take the world by its horns with his bare hands and mold his own future with bared teeth and bloody knuckles.

He had been gunning for the position of War Chief since he was a pup; determined and full of a tenacity rarely found in his generation, he always knew he’d become a name meant to go down in history.

He learned how to hold a paper-mache broadsword before he could even walk and had successfully hunted his own rabbit before the alpha within him had first made itself known. He was boisterous and rowdy, brimming with primal energy that not even his mother–an equally hard-headed alpha–could help him burn off.

Katsuki graduated with top marks in his batch of young alphas training to be warriors under the current head of the village’s military.

War Chief Todoroki was a feared man–a virile alpha with a strong strategic mind and the stubborn willpower to execute his tactical methods with impunity… and while tradition dictated that the War Chief would select his successor of his own volition, most generational families with such power tended to yield to nepotism more often than not.

Except War Chief Todoroki’s firstborn son was a warmongering loose cannon. Touya Todoroki, while vicious on the battlefield, had a near-petulant personality that made him ill-fitting for a role of such power and responsibility.

While Katsuki was equally afflicted with a hair-trigger temper, it became clear early on that he was terrifyingly adept at quick thinking and even more attuned to the critical thinking needed to strategize both effectively and efficiently.

In the two short years since his promotion from apprentice to warrior, Katsuki Bakugou had quickly proven to not only the War Chief, himself, but to the entirety of Musutafu that this young alpha was more than the average fighter.

He was an alpha with drive and ambition, an alpha that could provide and protect. Where others would pick self-preservation, Katsuki would power through with nothing but bull-headed stubbornness and the skin of his teeth if that’s what it took to win–no matter the consequences.

Despite his tireless dedication, Katsuki knew well and good that at the end of the day, his village’s devotion to their goddess was a fact he had little room to argue against. If he wanted the village’s favor, it was best to keep his mouth shut and endure the nonsensical traditions they were so keen on keeping their claws sunken into. If being chosen by Demeter meant another accolade to add to his collection, then so be it.

Being selected as one half of a pair of so-called “fated” mates was a privilege, one he wasn’t going to shy away from if it was granted to him–if for no other reason than to show the whole damn village exactly how ready he was to be the strongest alpha they’d ever seen.

Knowing it was coming, however, didn’t change the fact that the entire ordeal was going to be a huge pain in the ass. Katsuki would have to grit his teeth and take it with as much grace as he could manage–which, typically, was a dismal amount. But this time, his priorities were in order.

Thick fingers curled around the end of the rope knotted around the hind leg of their moose, a low grunt catching in his throat. “We won’t know until it happens, dumbasses,” Katsuki rumbled out.

“Aw, there’s no need to be so modest, man!” Denki crowed out another laugh.

Hanta leaned his weight against the handles of the wheelbarrow he was manning, his smirk all but audible in the drawl of his voice. “So who d’ya think the lucky omega’s gonna be? You got any favorites?”

“Like I give a fuck.” Katsuki passed his tongue over his teeth, prodding at his incisors in an attempt at quelling the urge to snap his jaws together in indignance. “Not like that shit matters to me. Whoever it is, we’ll make it work. Or else.”

Eijirou sighed at his side, brows pinched together with subtle concern. Katsuki ignored the look of worry the other cast in his direction, chin jutting out and crimson eyes narrowed.

“Ugh, you’re so manly, Bakugou!” Denki threw his head back and heaved a dramatic groan, as if to acknowledge the way the other blonde was leaps and bound ahead of me. “I wish I had the confidence you do.”

Eijirou made a face, opting to ignore Denki high-jacking one of his own lines of adoration for the alpha leading their hunting endeavor.

“Yeah, maybe if you did, you’d actually get a mate.” Hanta ribbed, digging his elbow into Denki’s side with a snicker. “So far, you’re two for two in rejections. What did Jirou say? That she’d rather eat a rotted rabbit’s foot than let you court her?”

“Oh, dude, now you’re just being an ass! She did not say that!”

Katsuki clenched his jaw as a flurry of yips and playful growls filled the air behind him; Denki grunted with a dull oof! before he was, from what Katsuki could presume, tackled to the ground. Hanta’s bellowing laughter followed suit, overpowering the petulant whine of protest the other young alpha pitched out in retaliation.

“Hey, no fair!”

“Yes, fair! Not my fault you fight like a little bitch. This is why Eijirou and Bakugou are our fighters and you’re always stuck in the back to hunt rabbits and field mice.” Hanta sounded particularly proud of that insult.

While the pair of them scuffled in the snow, Eijirou shifted closer. He cleared his throat, but Katsuki didn’t bother turning his head to grace the red-haired alpha with his direct attention.

“You know if you need to talk, I’m here.” His tone was calm and easy—and though most others would leave the unspoken and probing question to linger between them, the genuine support that radiated off of Eijirou was enough to pull a low sigh of defeat from him.

Katsuki didn’t bother with a verbal response; instead, he gave a mild grunt colored with something between appreciation and resignation. He inhaled a slow, deep breath and the familiar scent of fresh cardamom and sandalwood that he had long since learned to associate with Eijirou settled over him.

“It’s just another fuckin’ hassle to take on,” the blonde finally rumbled. His voice dropped until it was little more than a low rasp, barely audible as he squared his shoulders and trudged forward. Katsuki gritted his teeth, leveraging his weight forward to restart the slow and arduous process of dragging the heavy carcass of their fresh-kill forward.

Eijirou grunted in tandem with him, his slow and measured steps falling in line with Katsuki’s own. “I think Denki and Hanta were trying to reassure you—“ his words were cut off as the pair of alphas in questions whooped and hollered like overly-rambunctious pups behind them, forcing Eijirou to wince with an apologetic look, “—by reminding you that the whole soulmate thing shouldn’t feel like another notch in your belt.” His voice softened, brows knitting together with concern. “In a way, it’s really romantic, if you think about it…”

“Kirishima.” Katsuki forced himself to grit his teeth, hissing out his breath through clenched jaws in slow, measured exhales. “I really don’t need that bullshit right now.” Red eyes snapped over to meet the other alpha’s gaze—and despite the low, rumbling threat lingering beneath Katsuki’s rough-hewn growl, Eijirou merely looked at him with that same genuine worry he always did.

Friends like him were once in a lifetime—and though he knew this, Katsuki could feel his patience begin to wear dangerously thin, anyway. Being looked at with anything akin or adjacent to pity made the hair at the back of Katsuki’s neck stand on end and a dull ache throb deep in his core–like a thumb pressed into a sore bruise.

It made the alpha in him rear its head and bare its ugly teeth. It made him push those that cared for him away, held at arm’s length.

It had happened once before–but somehow, Eijirou hadn’t seemed to have fallen into that same trap. Instead, he weathered Katsuki’s bitter growls with a certain level of grace. He exhaled a low sigh, shaking his head before pressing, “you really don’t have your eye on anyone?”

Katuski pressed his lips together into a thin line. A part of him knew he should just snap out the simplest answer–no, of course not.

He didn’t have time to be frivolous with his time; he had things to do, milestones to meet–and making eyes at any of the numerous empty-skulled omegas of their village did less than spark an interest. It almost made him repulsed by the idea of courting any of them.

The answer didn’t leave his lips quick enough and Eijirou took his hesitance as an answer. He whistled low under his breath, brows lifted. “Who is it? Shoto?” Eijirou sucked his teeth with a slow breath. “You two would be a serious power couple…”

Not Shoto.

The alpha coiled in his chest bared its teeth suddenly, a heady snarl bubbling in Katsuki’s throat before he could swallow it. His jaws snapped, incisors smacking into one another with an audible clack before Katuski hissed out a slow, steadying breath. His alpha, however, wasn’t placated.

Not my omega.

The burn that itched beneath his skin slowly began to web through his veins, tongues of flame licking at his insides until the alpha within Katsuki smoldered. He gritted his teeth once more, swallowing down his growl before shaking out his muscles.

The wolf that dwelled within his ribcage had always been a wildcard—a beast of a creature that often reared its head to bare its teeth and snarl in retaliation. It burned with the intensity of a star on the cusp of a supernova, volatile and molten.

Katsuki had presented younger than most, barely able to walk more than he toddled—and while the sudden maelstrom of new emotions and feelings left the young pup dizzy and biting all the hands that attempted to feed him, he was told from the ripe age of six that he was special.

Alphas with such a strong connection to their inner wolves were rare nowadays—and to unearth the strength and potential he possessed so early meant that, surely, Katsuki Bakugou was destined for greatness.

He had been proud—of course he was proud—but before the world could make sense through the eyes of a child, the alpha within began to rule him.

Scraped knees and giggles in the woods quickly turned into bloody knuckles and ugly snarls; where he once stood tall with the pride and conviction of a protector, the child alpha had nowhere to place his newfound strength.

Hands he had hoped were meant to protect began to hurt—and the next thing Katsuki knew, he was alone in a world where adults coddled him for his strength but made his peers cower in fear.

In particular, a pair of green eyes, once so full of joy and reverence when they were fixated upon Katsuki that later began to blur with tears, haunted him the most. The alpha in him hated it.

It snapped its jaws and snarled in his ear when burning red eyes absorbed the image of a small, green pup with a wobbling lip and teary doe-eyes before him. It snarled—weak, spineless, not like you.

Katsuki didn’t understand then—didn’t understand why the rage coiled in his chest burned like ravaging flames when the boy he once considered his childhood friend triggered something so guttural and reactionary within him.

So, Katsuki did the only thing he knew—he used his fists and his teeth until those green eyes, hazy with unshed tears, didn’t dare to look at him again, lest his alpha twist with fury all over again.

He was too young back then to realize what his alpha was trying to tell him all those years ago—but by the time the hormones and pheromones balanced, by the time his body had finally managed to catch up to the raw, unadulterated strength that his alpha lended him, it was too late.

Katsuki had changed—but so too did the sniveling, green-eyed pup that looked to him for support. The time was long gone and all Katsuki could do was bear that burden.

Except now, the entire village had their eyes on him with the expectation of him to uphold some fantasy bullshit about True Mates and soul ties.

His alpha rejected any omega that came his way, snarling and snapping its teeth in repulsion—and the fact that their patron goddess was certain to choose for him now made his stomach turn in discomfort.

Shoto Todoroki was the most eligible omega in the entirety of Musutafu; a beautiful little thing with alabaster skin, unique, bi-colored eyes and a shock of both snow-white and fiery-red locks to match–he was the very picture of innocence.

The War Chief’s youngest pup was bred for this very reason—with the intention of carrying on the Todoroki Bloodline as a proper omega should.

To be paired with an alpha that was just as strong as he was celebrated was the only logical outcome for an omega like him—and with Katsuki’s necklace crammed full of whittled teeth and bones from the victims of his battles, the choice felt obvious to anyone with eyes and a functioning brain.

If Demeter was going to choose anyone for Katsuki, it would be him–Shoto Todoroki, the picture-perfect omega that embodied all that was saintly.

Except the clean scent of linens and lavender that radiated off of Shoto made Katsuki want to gag; overly-sanitized and unnervingly antiseptic, wandering too close to the youngest Todoroki only forced the alpha in Katsuki to sit back on its haunches with a growl.

Not only that, the omega could hardly hold a conversation. He was “demure” by their village’s standards. Soft-spoken with few words to offer—but the long stretches of silence that often followed Shoto around made the blonde want to claw at the walls until his nails were bloody.

There were times when Katsuki wondered whether the omega had a brain in that pretty head of his at all—but whenever he tried to engage, the conversation fizzled and his frustration boiled over.

He stopped trying long ago, after the first time War Chief Todoroki had approached him with the question that any other alpha from their village would be ravenous to answer with a resounding yes.

Enji Todoroki had offered his youngest son’s hand to Katsuki only one year prior, rationalizing that a mate with the prowess and intelligence that the blonde possessed would be the most ideal fit for Shoto. Katsuki wasn’t the kind of alpha that rolled over at the whims of others—but he wanted the role of War Chief one day and he salivated at the idea of winning favor where it would serve him.

Katsuki Bakugou could become the best in the village all on his own—but if taking on the War Chief’s son as a mate would help him, then he would sniff out the opportunity before making that decision. He was older now, more pragmatic and less stubborn… but even then, the endeavor to see whether the omega would be a good fit for him ended before it even began.

The alpha within him had snarled so loudly in Katsuki's head the moment he tried to take Shoto’s smaller, more delicate hand in his that his skull damn near vibrated.

He had snatched his hand away like he had been burned, teeth bared and his throat thick with a snarl that felt more instinctual than it did anything else.

Shoto had stared at him with unblinking eyes, expression blank and unmoving—but the slight press of his lips was enough for Katsuki to know that the omega was hurt.

He was terse but polite when he returned to Enji with his answer, a concise rumble all he could offer when he claimed that he was too occupied by his duties as a warrior to consider a proper courting at this time.

The older alpha had appraised him with critical blue eyes—but he didn’t press. He grunted and waved Katsuki off—and from that point, he had hoped that it was all in the past.

Except Demeter had plans for him—or so it seemed. A part of him hoped that the damn goddess would pick anyone, literally anyone, else but him. But with great power came great responsibility, or whatever the hell the goddamn saying was.

”Just drop it,” Katsuki finally grunted, his voice low in an attempt at quelling the harsh, ragged edge that threatened to cut through his words, “it’s not like being a goddamn power couple matters to Demeter.” He tongued at one of his canines, ignoring the way Eijirou’s gaze burned into his profile. “I really don’t give a flyin’ fuck who it is. If it’s me, then it’s me. And if it’s Shoto, then…” One shoulder lifted in a disinterested shrug. “Guess it’s fuckin’ Shoto.”

Eijirou heaved a low sigh. “Right…” There was another beat of hesitant silence. “Hey, Bakugou?”

”What?” The hiss of irritation coloring his voice wasn’t intentional, but Eijirou remained unbothered.

”You know you can talk to me if there’s something going on, right?”

Katsuki’s teeth pressed together with a sharp clack. The alpha within him twisted and howled. Something inside of him was missing, something integral and necessary. His alpha mourned and he was powerless against it.

”Just shut up and take this.” It was all Katsuki offered in lieu of his vulnerability, rounding on his heel to shove his end of the rope into Eijirou’s chest. “I ain’t gonna listen to yer bullshit and lug this thing at the same time.”

“But don’t you want everyone to know it was your kill?” Eijirou sounded dubious as he wrapped the rope around his free hand, allowing the rough fibers to wind between his fingers and thread through his knuckles. “I mean, you are the one who managed to bag this giant thing.”

Katsuki forced out a sharp breath through his nose. “No one’s gonna think that dumb and dumber back there could slay a moose on their own,” he grunted with a low, ill-tempered growl. “I’m the goddamn best. Ain’t no one gonna think otherwise.”

So many others were quick to berate Katsuki for his arrogance and narcissism–but as Eijirou flashed a wide grin, sharpened teeth glinting under the thin, gray light of the rising sun, it was obvious that the blonde’s bristling demeanor was a welcome comfort.

“Fair enough,” Eijirou amended with a chuckle, leaning his weight forward to drag the moose’s heavy carcass behind him with each step. His teeth gritted together from the strain but his smile didn’t once falter. “Who else would be able to bring back such a large kill before daybreak?”

“Damn right.” Katsuki jutted his chin out, jaw clenched and teeth grinding.

As the pathway opened up into the mouth of the cobblestone square nestled in Musutafu’s heart, neighbors and merchants alike cheered at the promise of fresh meat to usher in their goddess’s festival.

The cheers and whoops of glee bolstered Katsuki’s spirit; his chest swelled and the lingering misgivings of all the wretched possibilities of how the night may unfold slowly began to melt away. He raised his fist and grinned with the tenacity of a wild animal. Teeth bared, hackles raised, and ego soothed.

All eyes were on him–all eyes would always be on him. He was Katsuki Bakugou, the finest young alpha this village had ever seen.

Except somewhere in the crowd, a pair of green eyes watched him with something else brewing in their wide, viridian depths. When Katsuki turned his head, burning reds beseeching as they picked through the crowds, he felt the heat of his stare before he saw him.

Where the extras and nobodies touted Katsuki as their hero, their chosen alpha, his eyes betrayed the very opposite.

For a beat, their gazes locked and the alpha dwelling inside Katsuki’s ribcage went silent.

As quickly as their eyes found each other, though, he was gone, disappearing in the throngs of his adoring village-mates with his back turned to the alpha celebrated by all the others.

Katsuki swallowed and his alpha howled.

When he steeled his expression and turned to face his fellow warriors with a victorious roar, the grin full of teeth that he wore lacked its earlier conviction. A mask slid carefully back into place to shield the wounded wolf that clawed at his insides.

Demeter help him.

Chapter Text

“Please do us all a favor,” Shoto drawled out, voice as calm and collected as always, “and actually bathe for once.” As if to emphasize his point, he reached out to pluck a thin, splintered piece of bark twisted into one of the curls against Izuku’s forehead.

Izuku wanted to protest but the scrunch to Shoto’s nose was less subtle than usual—and after lifting his arm to give his armpit a reluctant sniff, he came to the unfortunate conclusion that his friend had a point.

The smell of sweat and grime clinging to Izuku’s skin, however, paled in comparison to the curdled stench of his pheromones; Shoto had eyed him suspiciously the moment Izuku had turned on his heel with his shoulders squared and expression twisted, trailing after him all the while.

He tried to dodge the steady stream of questions Shoto posed as they perused the vendors.

Shoto started by asking why Izuku looked so annoyed as poked and pressed into the loaves of bread on display at the Shindo family’s bakery before tentatively commenting on how Izuku’s sour scent was harsh while the green-haired omega squeezed a tomato to check its ripeness.

Izuku was passive throughout, offering vague and non-committal answers that were just barely passable. It was all he could do to keep the itch burning beneath his skin.

Shoto seemed to have the sense to not press too much further and as the pair of friends ended their leisurely search through the market, he fixed his bi-colored gaze on Izuku thoughtfully. Verdant hues focused everywhere but on his friend’s probing eyes—and just as they were about to part ways, Shoto reached forward to wrap thin, delicate fingers around Izuku’s wrist.

”I’ll see you tonight.” Shoto squeezed ever so slightly.

With a quiet sigh, Izuku finally lifted his head to offer his friend a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Silently, he thanked Demeter that Shoto was merciful enough to keep from pestering when Izuku wanted nothing more than to hibernate for the remainder of the winter season. When he opened his mouth, though, his murmur was colored by gentle reassurance.

”Yes, you will.” He shifted his hand so that their fingers could thread together, interlocking until Izuku squeezed his hand back in kind. “I wouldn’t miss the celebration for anything in the world if it’s for you, Shoto. You know that.”

The smile that tugged at the corners of Shoto’s lips was gentle but relieved. The familiar smell of clean linens and gentle lavender wafted around Izuku and the omega felt himself begin to slowly relax despite the tension held in his shoulders. His friend’s calming scent always managed to ease Izuku’s racing thoughts—it’s how they managed to work despite coming from entirely different worlds.

”Thank you, Izuku. Go, relax… and clean up, please.” That subtle scrunch to his nose returned, though it was teasing and good-natured this time around. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Their hands unclasped and the gentle blue silk hem of Shoto’s robe fluttered in a brisk breeze. He really was beautiful—and the more Izuku softened under his friend’s glow, he decided that suffering through another year of archaic traditions would be worth it if Shoto could still smile.

”I’ll see you tonight, Shoto,” he promised.

The other omega smiled in full now—and without another word, he turned to follow the trail back to his family estate atop Musutafu’s sloping hills. After his small figure disappeared, Izuku deflated.

He sighed, gathering his basket and adjusting his cloak.

As he made his way home, Izuku clung to the optimistic hope that his support for Shoto would be enough for him to push through the solstice.

The solstice was going to be Shoto’s celebration–he knew it was. And yet, as Izuku’s fingers grasped at the hem of his cloak with uncertainty, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

Unease followed his footsteps–and no matter how hard Izuku tried to push it away, he couldn’t help the subtle sensation of dread seeping into his bones.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

It took longer than Izuku cared to admit to pick out every last twig and leaf that had tangled into the mess of his gnarled curls.

The sun was already beginning to dip beneath the horizon, a kaleidoscope of burnt orange and scarlet as indigo bled into the sky like spilled ink—and as the minutes ticked by, Izuku’s frustration was beginning to get the better of him.

Annoyed mutters and irritated grumbling filled the narrow space of his washroom; the mirror hanging on the wooden wall was far from clean, hazy with a thin layer of dirt that Izuku had been meaning to scrub for over a week now, and his reflection was slightly warped, leaving his features distorted as his tongue peeked out from between his teeth and his brows knitted together.

”Crap,” he hissed out through his teeth as a particularly pesky curl refused to lay into place, springing straight up at the very crown of his head. It looked more like an antenna than it did hair and the longer Izuku glared at it in his asymmetrical reflection, he wondered whether it was worth making another attempt at taming his wild mane of green locks.

He didn’t get a chance to make a choice before there was a hesitant knock at the door he had jammed closed. “Izuku?” Inko’s voice was muffled but the worry lingering in her tone was unmistakable. “Are you sure you don’t need any help? I already have your robes cleaned and pressed so if you need me to fix your hair…”

”No, mom, I’m okay, promise.” Izuku willed his tone to remain even and gentle, not wanting to raise his voice against the woman who spent all her time doing nothing but stressing over him and his well being. His mother, while protective, was the kindest person he knew—and despite his frustration, Izuku refused to let his annoyance bleed into his voice.

He dropped the small-toothed comb he had whittled from an antler against the narrow ledge of the water basin before turning on his heel. Izuku grasped the handle of the door and after giving it an experimental jostle, he tugged it with enough force for it to open.

The door itself was thin and worn—and though Toshinori had offered to help replace it with a newer, sturdier build, both Izuku and Inko were quick to tell the former War Chief that he didn’t need to waste his energy on something as menial as re-building anything in their home.

Poking his head out through the crack, Izuku found himself face to face with Inko. Her green eyes were wide and her brows pinched in the exact same way Izuku’s were, a better reflection of himself than what the mirror of his washroom offered him. Seeing her anxiety, however, forced Izuku to calm himself down.

If there was one person on this earth he refused to fail, it was her. She was oftentimes overbearing, overprotective, and worrisome—but at the end of the day, Inko was still the one who helped bandage every scraped knee and kissed his forehead when he couldn’t sleep at night.

His expression softened and he offered a small smile. “Thank you,” Izuku murmured, “for taking the time to get me a robe and for making sure it’s not wrinkled.” He scrunched his nose with a small, hesitant smile. “I’d look really silly if I showed up all wrinkled, huh?”

Inko’s expression melted with relief at the sight of her son taking the night in stride. Izuku couldn’t blame her; the year before, he had to be dragged to the festival every single night kicking and screaming, determined to boycott the ridiculousness of it all.

The neighbors wouldn't stop whispering for months after the fact—and though Inko stayed steadfast and brave, Izuku could tell that his mother was trying not to show how it affected her. Hearing strangers whisper behind their hands that that omega is a strange one and that the Midoriya boy is such a handful, no wonder no one’s chosen to court him or take him as a mate took its toll after a certain point.

Between Shoto and his mother’s worry lines, Izuku knew better to pull the same stunt this year.

He let his mother’s hand find his shoulder, gently guiding him down the small corridor of their hut before tugging him into the alcove of Izuku’s room.

Layed out over his bedroll was a pretty green robe with a darker, forest-colored sash resting over the waistline. It wasn’t the same material as the expensive silks Shoto often wore, but the cotton was soft to the touch and held the slightest sheen to it. A pattern of leaves and vines was tesselated against the robe, embroidered in a metallic thread that caught the light to flash silver.

It was lovely despite the slightly worn hem and as Inko glanced anxiously up at him, Izuku felt himself sigh.

”I know it’s not the most embellished robe you’ve seen,” Inko amended, clasping Izuku’s hand in her own to give it a gentle squeeze, “but I bought this a while ago from a traveling vendor… I think it would look wonderful on you.”

”Yeah,” Izuku breathed out, hoping the uncertainty he felt didn’t come through in his voice. “It really is pretty, mom, thank you.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled Inko in for a tight embrace. She hugged him back and as the beta made a small noise of happiness, Izuku forced himself to maintain his smile.

Inko pulled away, head tilting back so she could meet his eyes. Izuku didn’t remember when he had gotten taller than her; his mother was always his biggest supporter, a pillar for him to tether to. When had she felt so small? When had he started outgrowing this life lived here, in the cabin he had been born and raised in?

Her murmur interrupted his thoughts. “Let’s get you into that robe?”

Izuku nodded. “Yes, sounds good.”

He peeled off his tunic and tried to ignore the way Inko’s lips pressed with concern as she observed the new cuts and bruises littering his freckled skin. Izuku turned, his back facing Inko as he let his arms hover at his side.

As the fabric slowly slid over him and rested over his shoulders, cool and soft against his skin, Izuku breathed out a sigh. He took the sash and twisted it between his fingers before Inko helped him tie it at the waist.

Just as she finished, Inko rested her hands against Izuku’s shoulder blades. “You look beautiful, Izuku.”

”Thanks, mom.” He wasn’t sure if he ever felt beautiful before. He certainly didn’t feel beautiful right then.

“Of course, honey.” Inko stepped up onto her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Maybe Demeter will think the same thing, hm?”

It was meant to be a joke, humorous and teasing. Izuku hated the way his stomach clenched despite knowing so.

His cheeks started to hurt and his smile began to warp. Izuku was glad Inko couldn’t see his face.

”Yeah.” Uncertainty left the undertone of his voice wavering. “Maybe she will.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

The village square flourished with both song and dance. Warmth thrummed through the air, buzzing in tandem with the jovial rhythm of the drums being played by a quartet of instrument-wielding betas. They were huddled together, plucking at the strings of their violin or tapping at the rattles of a tambourine with every beat from where they were stationed in the center of the cobblestone courtyard.

Young alphas swept through the crowds, wiggling their brows in an attempt at wooing the bashful omegas that were so determined to play coy. Those who were bold enough giggled and took an outstretched hand before the pairs swept away to dance in a flurry of laughter and amused hoots.

Others were crammed at the edges of the square, bathed in the warm glow of the paper lanterns that Izuku had watched the workers painstakingly string up only a few hours prior. Some had thick glass pints filled to the brim with mead, others were splitting warm roles and sharing one half with the villagemate at their immediate side.

No matter which way Izuku looked, his neighbors near and far were glowing with the naive hope for blessings in the midst of their carefree joy.

The familiar weight of Inko’s hand resting on his shoulder was exactly what Izuku needed to stay calm, the uncomfortable lurch of his heart steadying as he leaned into his mother’s grounding energy.

Inko smiled and waved politely as a slew of the older adults paused to shout a warm greeting in their direction. As one of the tutors who provided lessons to the village’s young pups, Inko was beloved by many. It always made Izuku’s heart sink with guilt when he felt gazes linger on him with something akin to pity–as if it was a travesty that the kind and ever-patient Inko Midoriya was forced to bear the burden of a strange runt of a son.

The smile that rested on Izuku’s lip was wobbly at best and unconvincing at most–but as Inko squeezed his shoulder and murmured that Mitsuki saved me some rolls, come find me if you need anything, honey, Izuku found himself heaving out a tired sigh.

He shooed her away with one last promise that he would be just fine tonight, watching with his lips pressed together as Inko wove through the crowds to join Mitsuki Bakugou at her small stall tucked towards the back of the square.

The alpha woman was beautiful–striking ruby eyes and sandy blonde locks that only accentuated the warmth of her honey-toned skin–as well as tough. Her tunic had the sleeves cut off at the shoulder, exposing lean and muscular arms–a necessity for one of Musutafu’s most reputable lumber sources.

She was equal parts strong and honorable–traits of any alpha worth their salt. Her one and only pup had certainly inherited her tenacious strength, no doubt, but there were times when Izuku questioned whether the noble sense of honor Mitsuki embodied had been passed on, too.

All thoughts of Katsuki were pushed aside, though, the moment a familiar voice rose over the din of the crowd.

“Izuku, hey!”

He turned on his heel, green eyes wide as they roamed the crowd until they landed on the source of the bright greeting. The moment his eyes found hers, Izuku found the remaining tension held within him begin to dissipate. A warm smile lit up his expression as he lifted a hand, waving at the girl weaving through the throngs crowing the square.

“Ochaco!” The laugh that slipped past Izuku’s lips was kind and colored with amusement. He reached forward and as her smaller one clasped into his, Izuku tugged her close. “It’s so good to see you! You look great!”

With a bright smile lighting up her soft features, Ochaco–a sweet-tempered beta with round, pink cheeks, kind eyes, and brown locks that smelled of roasted hazelnuts and warm cocoa–exhaled a breath of a laugh before leaning in to gather Izuku into her arms.

He welcomed the steady strength of her presence, leaning in to the comfort of her embrace. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for you, you know.” Her tone was teasingly chastising, a gentle reprimand colored by affection more than anything else. Ochaco gave him a tight, comforting squeeze.

She lingered for another moment before she released him enough to pull her head back, searching his expression. As her smile softened, she clasped both of Izuku’s hands in her own. “Shoto told us you were having a tough day,” she continued, voice dropping to an understanding murmur. “If you need us to tell your mom you got sick so you can sneak back home, just let me know, okay?”

The sincerity behind her offer was enough to pull a gentle laugh from Izuku’s chest despite the flash of embarrassment that webbed its way through his scent. His friends were all kind people, worrying over one another with the intensity and devotion of a familial bond forged over the years. Where one nurtured either a physical or figurative injury, the others would gather around them to lick their wounds.

The fact that Shoto had voiced his worry over him despite the fact that tonight marked a week-long celebration that would surely be dedicated to him left Izuku’s heart melting.

“I will,” he promised, lips curling at the corners into a small but appreciative grin. “I know I can count on you.” Izuku squeezed her hand back with equal pressure and appreciation. “But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. We all know that if there’s anyone in this village that deserves Demeter’s blessing, it’s him.”

Ochaco tilted her head, studying him intently before her smile widened. “You can say that again!” Her chirp was light and airy, a breath of fresh air that helped settle the last of Izuku’s nerves. “He’s been acting modest but Tsu and Tenya have been buttering him up all night.” She exhaled a giggle, using her grip on Izuku’s wrist to pull him into the crowd. “Try to pretend not to notice how tipsy he is when we see him, alright?”

As she flashed him a conspiratorial wink, Izuku laughed once more. He was careful to keep from tripping on the feet of the couples dancing around him, keeping stride with the brunette as her head bobbed in and out of his field of view. “Mm, hopefully you guys haven’t gotten him too drunk,” he joked. “We don’t want to sabotage his squeaky-clean reputation.”

The beta giggled and Izuku sighed through another subtle wave of hazelnut and chocolate, the smile still nestled over his expression.

While the scent of a beta was often weaker and far less potent than those of both alphas and omegas, the warmth Ochaco’s pheromones exuded was always a welcome sense of security. The edge of sourness cutting through Izuku’s notes of wildflowers and morning dew dissipated as she began to tug him along.

They reach a narrow wooden table tucked beneath an awning attached to one of the many storefronts fringing the cobblestone perimeter. The rough surface is littered with items–including three empty glasses that Izuku assumed were once filled to the brim with ale, the hulled shells of numerous sunflower seeds, and a handful of silver coins–but it was the sight of three bodies huddled together at the far end of it that pulled Izuku’s attention first.

He squeaked in alarm, watching as Tenya–a towering but earnest alpha known in their village for being a dedicated but strict tutor for young pups–and Tsu–a long-legged beta with a penchant for the rainy season–rubbed gently against Shoto’s back.

The omega was clutching his stomach, groaning weakly in protest as his head rested along the table’s edge.

Ochaco made a small sound of sympathy–caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan–before dropping Izuku’s hand in favor of floating closer to him. Izuku was quick to join his friends, his scent as warm and as comforting as he could manage to help ease Shoto’s discomfort.

“--Shoto, this is why Tsu and I told you not to drink so quickly!”

“Oh, Tenya, hush! There’s no need to make him feel worse about it.”

“Ochaco, when did you get here?” Tsu rasped, looking up from Shoto in favor of peering over at the newcomers.

“We just got here,” Izuku amended, his voice soft as he shifted to kneel before Shoto. He lifted his head enough to shoot both Tenya and Tsu small, apologetic smiles. “Hey, Shoto?” His coo was soft and gentle as he placed a hand at his knee. “Are you okay?”

“Izuku? ‘S that you? Where were–” he hiccuped inelegantly, groaning as one hand moved to cover his mouth to mask his grimace before he continued, “--where were you? Took y’too long… t’get here.”

He couldn’t help but frown as Shoto’s words slurred together. Izuku gave his knee a small squeeze. “Bad hair day,” he started sheepishly, “remember all the twigs and leaves I had stuck in them?”

The reference to their adventures earlier in the day was enough to pull a small breath of a giggle from him. Even intoxicated, he was too proper to laugh out loud. “Yeah,” Shoto breathed out, voice soft and colored by the sigh of his muted laughter. “You looked silly.”

Izuku smiled and took Shoto’s hand in his own. “Yeah, I did look silly,” he agreed with a gentle chuckle of his own. “Would you like to drink some water? I’m a little thirsty.”

Shoto pouted and his brows pinched together–as if the idea of drinking anything but the honey mead being poured by the pint was out of the question. The delicate scent of fresh linens lingering around him soured.

“If you have a glass of water with me, I’ll let you split my cup of mead after,” Izuku pressed, hoping that bargaining would at least soften Shoto to the idea of slowing down the liquor webbing through his system.

The group of friends crowded around them collectively breathed a sigh of relief the moment Shoto’s lips lifted in a small but bright smile. “Oh! Then yes, of course.” He gave a dutiful nod–as if he was the noble omega prince of the village he always was and not the slurring, pink-cheeked, and intoxicated mess. “That sounds–” Shoto’s words fractured with a hiccup before he wiped his mouth and continued, “--sounds lovely.”

That was all the reassurance needed to send their surrounding friends into action; Tenya parted from their huddle in favor of weaving through the animated crowds, on his way to fetch two glasses of water, while Tsu and Ochaco settled back into their seats. Izuku was quick to take his post at Shoto’s side, one hand rubbing comfortingly against his shoulder.

When the dark-haired alpha returned, Izuku bowed his head in thanks and passed a glass on to Shoto–who, to Izuku’s relief, was quick to raise it to his lips and take slow but deep sips.

As Shoto’s drunkenness settled and the initial look of nauseous discomfort faded to a comfortable buzz, their excited babble resumed.

Izuku settled into the steady, familiar warmth of his friends’ company; he smiled as Ochaco proudly announced an uptick in sales for her family’s carpenter business, vocalized his pride when Tenya boasted that the young pups under his care were certainly ahead of their age-group when it came to lessons, and even ooh’d and ahh’s as Tsu recounted her latest rescue mission out in the depths of the forests.

Shoto chimed in every few minutes, supplying his idle commentary with a good-natured hum.

Tenya flitted away for a brief moment, returning with warm rolls and a dish of butter that the friends swarmed with whoops of excitement—and as their bellies were filled and the mead in their cups frothed over the rim of their glasses, Izuku felt warmth blossom through him.

The normalcy of it all left Izuku feeling almost guilty for being so averse to the evening. The joy of song and dance filled the air and so, too, did it fill his chest. He had one arm draped over Shoto’s shoulder, holding the other omega into his side when the gentle vibrator of string instruments being plucked in rhythm with the cheering crowds lulled to a stop.

When Izuku lifted his head to peer curiously out onto the square, his friends fell silent at his side.

Sure enough, those who were once coupling up to sway to the rhythm of the music had quieted down—and as Izuku’s gaze wandered, he watched as the crowd began to part down the middle.

”Father is fashionably late,” Shoto murmured dryly into his ear, “as always.” The snort he breathed out through flared nostrils was dainty but that did little quell the unimpressed sass lingering behind the gesture.

Izuku let his elbow dig into Shoto’s ribcage ever so slightly, earning a muted oof of protest from him—but as the other omega leaned in to bonk his forehead against the side of Izuku’s skull, the two huffed before settling back into their seats.

After all, the War Chief’s speech was exactly what the first night of the solstice festival was meant for.

Enji Todoroki was a foreboding man, standing at a menacing height that left him towering over even the strongest alpha warrior in their village. He was wide-set with bulging muscles that could barely be concealed by the heavy, fur-lined coat that hung from the breadth of his shoulders. His face was handsome, albeit weathered by both age and war.

There was a jagged scar that spanned the length of his face, starting from the sharp line of his jaw all the way through his left eye—a battle-wound against a particularly nasty monster the warriors came across after Enji had first succeeded the throne as Musutafu’s War Chief. It was an ugly thing but somehow, upon his chiseled features and stern expression, it only added character. Proof that he was the alpha of alphas—strong, ferocious, deadly.

Following only three steps behind him was Shoto’s eldest brother—Touya Todoroki.

A shock of icy white hair and piercing blue hues to match, Touya was tall and lean with the same sharp features as his father—except with his youth and devilish demeanor, he looked more like a knife poised to slice through anyone that defied him than anything else.

He didn’t possess the same muscle mass as Enji, lanky with long limbs and a wiry build, but that did little to dampen the air of danger that seemed to hang over Touya like a dark, foreboding shadow. His expression looked almost bored—half-lidded blues and his mouth parted to tongue at one of his canines with idle intent, almost as if this entire ordeal was more of a nuisance than it was an honor.

Settled atop Touya’s left shoulder was a winged creature that wore the face of a man; with unrelenting golden eyes that reflected the moonlight and a razor-sharp smirk, the avian hybrid had its talons curled tightly into the thick leather shoulder-pad he was perched atop of. Hawks, as he was called, served as the Todoroki family’s messenger—both in battle and in their regular affairs.

He was smaller than most humans, compact and built light with hollow-bones—but that did little to offset the balance of his large, sprawling red wings. Each feather was iridescent, catching the light every single time they rustled in the breeze.

When he was younger, Shoto had once mentioned to Izuku that Hawks would have sold for quite the pretty penny were his father to sell him to the vendors that passed through Musutafu; hybrids, after all, were a rare breed. Difficult to find, impossible to hunt—having one to tout as a trophy as a bragging right was something many bounty hunters salivated over.

But that would never do; someone had marched to the Todoroki estate with five bags loaded heavily with gold coin in exchange for the bird’s head—but Enji had sent them off with a threatening snarl and the promise of a swift death if any lousy hunter with more coin than sense dared to encroach upon what was under his watch.

Izuku learned later that the eldest Todoroki heir had taken quite a liking to the avian—and as the young alpha grew into his role as a warrior, so, too, did Hawks. Dutifully at Touya’s side side, he served the Todoroki family infallibly and valiantly.

Touya, along with Hawks, followed Enji up onto the wooden stage nestled in the center of the square. Enji, with his head held high, crossed thick arms over his chest while Touya hovered at the edge of the surface.

The younger Todoroki lifted a hand to absently pet through a few of Hawks’ primaries and even from the distance, Izuku could pick up the high-pitched croon of appreciation the avian let out in response.

“Brother didn’t want to come,” Shoto commented absently at his side. Izuku tilted his head to give the other boy a curious look, one brow raised; with everyone’s hearts settled on Shoto as the omega of the hour, the idea of Touya’s disinterest in any affair that could bring his family more clout and attention left him puzzled. Shoto, noticing Izuku’s confusion, pressed on. “He said there was no point in coming when it was going to be all about me, anyway.”

Shoto, for what it was worth, didn’t sound too phased by the fact that his eldest brother often held onto petulant grudges. The Todoroki children—all four of them—were close, a tightly-knit unit that was almost daunting to try and breach. But even then, there were a few bones to pick between the two of them. And supposedly, Touya was the petulant sort.

He was always a loose cannon; snide and quick to anger, but he was also a warrior that fought without mercy. He was strong, no doubt—but his lack of boundaries often made him unapproachable and dangerous. Izuku always thought he just liked to brood for the sake of brooding—but then again, he barely ever spoke to Touya on a personal basis.

It was Toshinori Yagi that came to the stage last; the earnest silence that had settled over the crowd upon the Todorokis’ entrance gave way to a warm eruption of cheers and greetings as the former War Chief made his way forward. Izuku, himself, felt his chest grow warm as his gaze rested on the man.

The years hadn’t been kind to Toshinori; he was thin and frail, gaunt in the face with eyes that had sunken in—and yet, even with his weakened constitution, the entire village celebrated him. He was a venerated war hero, an alpha that had pulled Musutafu through some of its darkest times—an era that preceded Izuku and his friends by a generation or two.

He was kind but dedicated, forgiving but steadfast—he was exactly what every alpha aspired to be.

The village would never forget all the years of peace he brought for them and it showed. Izuku noticed the way Enji’s expression darkened, the scowl on his face deepening, but even the arrogance that dripped from the new War Chief wasn’t enough to outweigh his sense of honor. As Toshinori made his way up onto the stage, Enji gave him a curt but evident nod of acknowledgement.

Touya ignored him altogether, but the crowd didn’t seem very interested in the young alpha that had tucked himself into the background; the War Chief’s first heir’s presence was an obligation more than it was a necessity—and it seemed Touya wasn’t the only one who knew that.

Izuku leaned into Shoto ever so slightly. “He and Hawks look ready to turn tail and run the moment they can,” he teased. Shoto exhaled a breath of a giggle.

”You have no idea. The entire night, all brother did was whine and complain about what a waste of time this was, how he and Hawks can just stay at home…” Shoto gave a shake of his head. “Father wasn’t having it.”

Ochaco giggled to Shoto’s right. “Touya’s just mad you’re getting all the attention!” She flashed a cheek wink, lips curling into a small smile.

Izuku squeezed Shoto’s hand in reassurance—but before either of them could chime in with a witty retort, the sound of Enji’s booming, baritone rumble demanded the crowd’s silence.

”It is with great honor that I welcome everyone to the first night of Demeter’s solstice.” His voice was loud and commanding, authoritative in a way that only a venerated alpha can be. Izuku felt himself hold his breath, head tilting to watch with rapt attention as Enji held his head high, chin out, and piercing blue eyes cutting through the crowd with one sweeping look. “Winter is a season of hardship and stress for us all—but that doesn’t mean our faith in Her must waver.”

His introduction was traditional and straightforward; the crowd murmured quietly in agreement, heads bobbing in complacent nods while others watched with sparkling eyes. Izuku chewed the inside of his cheek to hold back a sigh.

”It has been tradition in our village for generations to provide Demeter with an offering to appease Her so that She may grant us with a bountiful harvest in the coming seasons. In order for us to do so, we invite Her to show us her favor by blessing us with what has become a rarity in today’s world—True Mates.”

The mention of True Mates pulled a collective clamor through the village, whispers growing louder while a few whooped in agreement.

Izuku watched as Touya visibly rolled his eyes and crossed his arms while Hawks licked his lips to conceal an amused smirk. He was glad that someone else thought the entire premise was as archaic as it sounded in Izuku’s ears.

Enji continued, his bellowing tone forcing the crowd to settle in a single moment. “The legends state that the selection of an alpha and an omega by Demeter is a sign of divine blessings—a sign that She is still watching out for us. As we know, the previous year… did not yield us good favor.” His voice took on a grim edge and the air began to feel heavy.

Izuku made a face. It was true that last year, the solstice failed to yield an alpha and an omega suited for the festival. Though the ceremonies were held without fail in the midst of every winter, it was not always a fruitful event. In the years where an alpha and an omega failed to be threaded together by the red string of fate, the spring yielded fewer crops and weaker livestock.

If you asked the green-haired omega, it was all an unfortunate coincidence; weather was not always consistent despite the seasons—and sometimes, the luck of the draw just wasn’t in their favor. But for the rest of Musutafu, the meager harvest only caused the villagers to double down in their faith.

”—it is thanks to the hard work of our youngest warriors that our bellies have been full and our homes warm. Just today, one of our village’s very best took it upon himself to hunt a moose in honor of today’s festival. Before we drink the wine meant to reveal Demeter’s chosen ones, let us take a moment to honor the man that has almost single-handedly brought us prosperity during this brutal winter. Katsuki Bakugou.”

Izuku’s head snapped up immediately, the familiar scent of wildflowers and morning dew that clung to him souring without warning. Shoto’s hand clasped around his own and he gave it a tight squeeze as Izuku’s green gaze zeroed in on the alpha in question.

Surrounded by his loyal following of fellow warriors and other friends, Katsuki held his head and stood tall. His chin jutted out and he looked out on the crowd down his nose–like he was the sole victor, a king lording over his dominion. His lips curled into a smirk full of teeth, wolfish and fearsome. The symbol of victory, the epitome of everything it meant to be an alpha.

The crowd cheered, joyous and blessed to have someone as strong and capable as him to keep them fed during the peak of the winter season. Izuku found himself pressing his lips together to quell the sour expression threatening to split across his face.

Even Ochaco seemed to notice, a warm surge of toasted hazelnuts washing over him in an attempt at comforting the omega’s obvious distress. Izuku inhaled, dragging a deep breath of warm cocoa into his lungs. He swallowed it down—and as the beating of his heart tapered off from its rapid pulsing only a moment earlier, Izuku forced himself to maintain the last shreds of his calm.

In true Katsuki fashion, the alpha raised his fist high to acknowledge the fervent crowd, grinning with that same wolfish intent—like he was hungry for more, hungry to become the most amazing warrior they had all ever seen.

Izuku knew that was true, knew exactly how Katsuki felt. he had spent too many years toddling after him in the woods with his eyes wide with awe and wonder, watching with amazement as his Kacchan hunted his first rabbit by the age of five—all while he stood tall and claimed that he was going to be the very best.

He would giggle and clap his hands in excitement, head bobbing with agreement—because of course Kacchan would be the best. And when it was his turn, he’d stand dutifully at his side with pride swelling in his chest and his head held high.

Things were different now. The world saw Katsuki for all his glory while Izuku sat back and watched him move on to better and greater things without him. The natural order—and omega like him could never dream to be as gritty and wild as an alpha of Katsuki’s standing.

The squeeze of Shoto’s hand around his brought him back; Izuku’s heart lurched and he swallowed once more before flashing a small, hesitant, but grateful smile over to the other. When he tilted his head back up to shift his focus back to the War Chief.

Enji Todoroki gave a small but curt nod of acknowledgement, waiting for the crowds cheers to die down before he motioned for Katsuki to take his seat. As the blonde alpha rested back into his place, his goon-squad whooped loudly in the lapse of silence that followed as they threw themselves over Katsuki’s broad shoulders.

As he nodded, Enji took a step back. “A few words from our previous Chief.” The crowd rippled with excited murmurs. Enji’s wide frame took up a majority of the stage, but as he shifted to the back of the display, tucking himself into Touya and Hawks’ side, Toshinori lifted a hand to appease the buzz of warmth settling over his people.

“Thank you, Chief Todoroki, for your words of wisdom. I understand that my time came to an end quite some time ago, but that does little to change my passion for this village.” His voice was calm and even, but the warmth and kindness that seeped through his words were always a comfort. Izuku felt his heart lift ever so slightly, sitting up straighter in his seat to turn his attention to the former warrior.

Toshinori, after all, was Izuku’s first inspiration to become a warrior; the numerous stories of his valor and bravery were passed on as if they were bedtime stories—and every young pup that desired the tumultuous but rewarding path of a warrior knew that the venerated alpha was the very embodiment of true power.

”As well all know, Katsuki is one of our strongest warriors, a capable alpha who always thinks of his village first,” he continued; Izuku tongued the inside of his cheek, curiosity buzzing under his skin as he watched him. Toshinori had taken quite a liking to his mother soon after his retirement—a chance encounter that had left a young Izuku reeling from how starstruck he was. In the years since then, though, Izuku had started to look to Toshinori like a father.

A strong, parental figure that kept dutiful watch over him despite his penchant for trouble. He had watched Toshinori speak during the solstice festival time and time again—but despite the handful of years that had passed them by, the green-haired omega listened with rapt attention despite his misgivings.

“While we honor Demeter, let us all also be grateful for the new generation that will ultimately lead us to prosperity. It is with great pride that I invite everyone here to embrace what the Goddess of the Harvest has given us.” Despite the harsh shadows cast over his face, Toshinori’s expression glowed with warmth as he smiled out over the crowd—a reminder that no matter what, he was here. “Let us all have a glass of the sacred wine and rejoice.”

As if those words were the only trigger needed, the village of Musutafu erupted in cheers of hope and excitement. Even Ochaco’s warm whoop was enough to lift Izuku’s spirit. He smiled and with Shoto’s hand clasped in his, he cheered, too.

The betas that had volunteered for the service slowly fanned out through the crowds, each carrying large serving plates full of thin glasses filled to the brim with a deep red spirit. The ceremonial wine, fermented and aged in the temple of Demeter up on the mountainside fringing the village, was passed out one by one to the young and unmated.

Some took the wine and downed it one long gulp while others had the humility to sip on it patiently. As Izuku and his companions were approached, one glass being passed to Shoto, another to Tenya, and the last one pushed into his very own palm, he could feel Ochaco and Tsu’s eyes burning into them.

Betas, while welcome to drink the wine, were more often than not exempt; the myths and folklore only ever regaled epic romance stories of alphas and omegas that were fated to be—and while betas could, by some miracle, be destined for companionship with another secondary nature, most were sensible enough to leave the more basal, instinctive matters in the hands of their other counterparts.

”Well, bottoms up!” Ochaco’s giggle was full of excitement.

Both Tenya and Izuku glanced down at Shoto as he gave the wine an experimental sniff. He made a face. “It smells bad,” he observed.

Somehow, Shoto’s blasé reaction was enough to force Izuku to burst into peals of laughter. “It might smell bad, but this is gonna get you a mate overnight, so c’mon.” Izuku smirked ever so slightly, reaching forward to tuck one finger beneath the base of Shoto’s glass. He gave it a small tilt, snickering as Shoto made a somewhat undignified noise of protest.

”Okay, okay. Izuku, please. These robes are new.” The petulance coloring his whine is muted, but the pinch to Shoto’s brows betrayed his annoyance.

Tenya chuckled. “Come now, let us drink.”

Izuku felt his smile soften. Lifting his own glass into the air, he sighed out. “To Shoto.”

Tsu and Ochaco raised their half-empty glasses of mead. “To Shoto,” the girls agreed, kind smiles on their face.

As Tenya clinked his glass to Izuku’s, he rumbled out, “To Shoto, our friend who deserves nothing less than Demeter’s blessing.”

Shoto’s cheeks were warm—from embarrassment or the residual liquor still in his system, Izuku couldn’t tell. “To all of us,” Shoto amended, voice soft and gentle, “for doing our best.”

With one last cheer, they clinked their glasses together and let the flow of wine carry them through the night.

Perhaps, Izuku thought to himself, he could be happy if it was for his friend.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

He dreamt of pine forests and night skies.

The prickle of needles shed by the wide, sprawling forest of evergreen trees crunched beneath the bare soles of his feet as he ran, the wind whipping through wild curls and filling his lungs with every hungry gulp he managed to swallow down.

He could feel his chest burn as his muscles slowly pulsed with a dull ache–as if his body was protesting from running aimlessly and endlessly through the undergrowth. And yet, Izuku didn’t dare relent.

The omega wasn’t sure what he was running from–or better yet, what he was running to. There was only one single thought running through his mind, a distant call summoning him somewhere in the pine forest’s core. It beckoned for him, a mere whisper he had to strain to pick up on–and though blood pounded in his ears and the racing ba-dump, ba-dump of his heart hammered against his ribcage, Izuku understood.

It was Her voice, gentle and maternal, that echoed in the deepest crevices of his mind. Each word She whispered was as clear and crisp as the flesh of a ripened apple–and the promise of something sweet, something fulfilling, was just as magnetic.

Come to me, child, She murmured, and I will show you everything you deserve and more.

He was running on nothing but blind faith and unrelenting belief, trusting Her without hesitation–and though mist hung heavily over the undergrowth, shrouding the thick and wide trunks of the numerous pine trees reaching high up for the sky, Izuku knew.

He knew exactly where to go, exactly when to skid to a halt and veer this way and that. He knew the forest like it was his own heartbeat, each footfall against the pine-needles and broken twigs littering the earth moving in tandem with the rhythm of his pulse.

It was almost as if he had been here before, had been learning each and every vein weaving its way through the forest’s heart since the very day he was born. Like it was engraved in his heart, mind, body, and soul–tethered to the earthy scent of fresh pine.

He was bound by a hunger that gnawed at his belly not for any fruit the earth could bear for him, but something entirely different. An all-encompassing, all-consuming need to drown in something just out of reach. Something he had to find, something he had been searching for without realizing.

Izuku’s foot caught on a gnarled branch and he tumbled forward, swallowed by the mist clouding his vision. He gasped, the air knocked straight from his lungs as his body lurched and collided into the thick, weathered base of an old pine tree. When he lifted his head up and squinted against the dark night-sky peeking through its rattling branches, he found that the tree he was sprawled out against was far taller than those that surrounded it.

High and arching with skeletal boughs that swayed in the breeze, the tree looked almost foreboding.

Izuku grasped mindlessly at its roughened exterior, fingers curling until his nails dragged against it–and the moment he pulled his hand back, the first layer of bark peeled itself back. When he pulled his hand back, each digit was coated in thick, amber sap.

For you, child, Her voice echoed in his head, gentle and nurturing.

His hands trembled as he brought them closer to his face, turning it over to examine the thick rivulets of sticky-sweet sap dripping their way down his fingers. Izuku wasn’t thinking–not the way he normally would. He was driven by something else entirely, something carnal and primal deep within him, as he flicked his tongue out to lap up the nectar.

It tasted of warm caramel, rich and decadent.

The groan that lodged itself in Izuku’s throat was heavy with need. Another lick along his fingers–then another, and another, and another. A hunger so strong that his body seized gnawed at his insides. Eyes rolled back and his knees went weak–and before Izuku could protest, his entire body buckled.

He fell to the ground but instead of yielding to the forest floor littered with needles, pinecones, and fractured twigs, the thick and winding roots of the weathered pine tree writhed to life. The sound of wood snapping and the dull but deafening roar of a thousand year old tree uprooting itself filled the air in a rising crescendo.

Izuku gasped.

Where his body had given itself up, the protective bindings of the pine tree unfurled to wrap around him. Vines and roots, boughs and branches, rough bark leaking sweet, caramel-scented sap–everything shifted and rippled around Izuku until he was encased in a thick cocoon to shield him from the watchful eyes of the night sky.

Suddenly, he was surrounded by it–the scent of fresh pine, the subtle musk of an active forest, and the saccharine aroma of warm caramel on the cusp of burning over a fire.

Every gulp of air Izuku dragged into his lungs left him intoxicated on the potent cocktail of earthy sweetness.

He closed his eyes and curled up, knees hugged to his chest as he settled on his side. With every breath, his heart lurched and skipped another beat.

Izuku didn’t know why he was here, didn’t know how he had managed to stumble upon an enchanted pine tree that wanted nothing more than to shield and protect him in the dead of night–but as his eyes fluttered and slipped shut, Her voice returned.

It was closer this time, as if Her whisper was a mere breath away from the shell of his ear.

Your protector awaits you. Goosebumps rose against the back of his neck and his breaths stuttered. Your divine counterpart, your other half, the piece of you that you thought you lost all that time ago. He waited for you and now, it is your turn to embrace what was always meant to be.

He wept.

Surrounded by interlocking roots, coddled by the warmth of caramel and the freshness of the evergreens, Izuku wept. He didn’t know why, didn’t understand why the tears streamed down his freckled cheeks–but as he hiccuped on a sob bubbling up his throat, Izuku felt something in his chest click into place.

He wept–not because he was lost, not because he couldn’t find his way back home… but because he had finally been found. Somewhere in the depths of those gnarled and twisted roots, his other half awaited him.

The gravity of it was overwhelming. His chest burned and he felt too small for his skin. Blindly, Izuku reached forward and grasped around until his fingers latched onto a thin tendril of bark.

He clutched at it, tight and unrelenting–as if he was afraid that if he were to let go, that the overwhelming sense of safety and security would slip through his fingers and disappear forever.

Are you ready, child?

Izuku swallowed back another sob. “I’m ready,” he whispered, voice hoarse and broken. “I’m ready. I’m ready. I’m ready.”

It was a mantra, broken and heavy with desperation. He squeezed his eyelids shut and the tears burned hot behind his eyes.

Then wake, She murmured gently into his mind. Wake and embrace the Gift I have given you.

Izuku dragged a slow, shuddering breath into his lungs and closed his eyes.

I’m ready, he thought to himself one last time before the darkness lapped over him in gentle waves, dragging him beneath its blackened currents once more.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke with a nose full of earthy pine and warm, sticky sap.

The dizzying headrush of consciousness left him reeling as he came to with a start. His racing heart lurched as the last bit of air was punched out of his lungs.

His first breath left him in a stuttering gasp, broken and fractured as eyes flew wide open. A hand clutched anxiously at the center of his ribcage. The fire burning within him felt white-hot–but as he doubled over in his bed, shoulders trembling and his breaths dragging uncomfortably against his throat, Izuku’s skin felt clammy and cold to the touch.

The air of his narrow quarters was stiff and still; the only other sound cutting through the silence of the night to disrupt his ragged gasps came from the distant, forlorn howl of the winter wind beyond the panes of his window.

Izuku couldn’t help but choke out a quiet sob that echoed the melancholy behind the wind’s moan.

As he clutched at his chest, fractured glimpses of a dense forest shrouded in glittering mist flashed against the back of his eyelids.

With every blink, he saw something else–gnarled roots, thick branches arching high overhead, a shelter fashioned from twisted bark and pine needles.

It wasn’t any forest he recognized–and yet, as Izuku struggled to quell his shallow breaths and regulate the erratic beat of his heart, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the disjointed reel of images were of something that should be familiar, something he knew was important.

Izuku swallowed thickly, trying to force down the lump trapped inside his throat. As he hissed out a breath, he pressed the heels of his palms into his closed eyes. None of the images made any sense, failing to tell him any sort of cohesive story–and something within him, something demanding and instinctive, writhed in protest.

He choked out a noise caught somewhere between exhaustion and frustration. His fingers curled into his hairline, wild curls slicked with sweat bunched between his knobby knuckles. He yanked and carded through them–and as he did, the inside of his left wrist suddenly burned, white-hot and angry.

Embrace the Gift that I have given you.

The sound of a woman’s gentle whisper echoed through his mind and Izuku froze.

In an instant, everything clicked–and with it came a sharp, splitting pain that pierced through his skull like a jagged spear.

A groan ripped from Izuku’s throat as he doubled over, a shaking hand clutching at his head. He cursed, a slew of bitten out groans and hisses forced out through his clenched teeth as his eyes squeezed shut. The dull ache throbbing against the inside of his skull didn’t dare waver as he dug the heels of his palms against his eyes in an attempt to quell his growing migraine.

”No,” Izuku whispered, his voice broken and hoarse. “No, please, I—“

He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to; the darkness shrouding his room was disrupted only by the thin, silver light of the moon as it filtered through the thick glass of his windows and the air hung heavily upon his shoulders—and yet, as Izuku stuttered on his breaths and his throat grew tight, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart lurched within his chest.

”I can’t.” The skin on the inside of his left wrist burned suddenly and Izuku swallowed down a sob of frustration. His fingers curled into his hairline, twisting through his tangled curls. “I can’t—it can’t be me.”

But it was.

It was him—and it was a fact that burned in his chest until tendrils of warmth spread its way through his veins, embedding itself in his blood, his very being, until it was impossible to ignore.

Izuku didn’t need to pull his hands away from his eyes to know what the sharp sting searing its way through his wrist meant.

He didn’t need to look to know that the red thread stitched into his skin was the constellation of Taurus.

He didn’t need to breathe to know who the intoxicating cocktail of thick musk, clean pine, and sweet, sweet sap suffocating him from the inside out belonged to.

Oh, Demeter, how sick your sense of humor is.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

The crisp dawn air left Katsuki’s cheeks ruddy. As he forced a slow, steadying inhale through his nose, he found himself staring up at the gray skies overhead in resignation. He ignored the encroaching sound of footsteps crunching in the snow just as he did the slow-growing babble of familiar voices as the rag-tag team of alphas that called themselves warriors drew close.

Somewhere in the distance, Katsuki swore he heard crying.

It must have been a figment of his imagination, a hallucination lingering in the periphery of his perception–because the next thing he heard was Eijirou’s rasping timbre.

“So how’s the lucky stud?”

Katsuki blinked, brows knitting together as he snapped his gaze up. “Hah?” His irritated grunt was prickly, but as his eyes swept up to meet the other alpha’s gaze, the blonde had to suck back an annoyed groan.

Eijirou wore a wolfish grin, his sharp teeth catching in the shallow light of dawn. His sweeping black cloak hung off of his built frame and slung over one shoulder was an empty burlap sack. Sure enough, he was prepared as ever for their daily hunt–and just a hare’s jump behind him were Hanta and Denki.

Both of them were squabbling with one another far too early for Katsuki’s liking–Denki smacking Hanta petulantly only for the dark-haired alpha to crow out a laugh at the other’s expense. He could already feel the ghost of a migraine pounding behind his eyes begin to simmer and he had to physically bite back the urge to groan.

Luckily, Eijirou barrelled forward with enough enthusiasm to drag Katsuki’s attention back to his (painfully annoying) grin.

“You heard me!” The red-haired alpha barked out a laugh, pounding his fist into Katsuki’s shoulder with a friendly amount of force. “Your ma showed up on the training grounds after you left to pack up the equipment. Heard her tell the War Chief that her pup was the lucky alpha of the hour!” He flashed another toothy smirk before lifting up his left hand. He tapped the inside of his wrist conspiratorially and Katsuki felt his stomach tighten. “C’mon, man, show us the goods!”

Katsuki didn’t have a chance to argue. Before he could open his mouth to snarl out a retort, Denki and Hanta’s crooning howls assaulted him.

“Don’t be shy!” Hanta dropped the crossbody bag toting his arrows to the ground with an unceremonious thud.

“Yeah, Bakugou! What’s Shoto’s star sign again?” Denki’s snicker lilted through the air as he adjusted the three sheathed knives strapped at his waist.

“Sagittarius? No… Capricorn!”

“Ha! ‘Course you’d know. Hanta’s been obsessed with Shoto since we were apprentices. Too bad the Todoroki princess is so out of your league and is Bakugou’s new arm-candy!”

“Oh, shut the hell up, Denki!”

Katsuki’s throat grew tight.

Eijirou must have noticed the subtle shift in his scent, how the thick, musky pine grew rotted and decayed with every passing second–a forest left to ruminate in its own pity. The playful grin on his face shifted until his brows pinched together and his lips curled down at the corners

“Bakugou?” His voice dropped suddenly, a quiet and tentative whisper. The spiced cinnamon Katsuki had long since learned to associate with Eijirou spiked–a habit the other alpha often leaned into whenever he attempted to comfort others. “Hey, man, seriously. What’s wrong?”

Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to meet Eijirou’s searching gaze. Instead, as his elbows propped against his knees and he leaned forward from where he sat, he found his mind drifting away to somewhere else entirely. Somewhere far away. Somewhere that didn’t exist anywhere else but in his mind.

A lush meadow, bathed in the warm, dappling glow of the springtime sun at highnoon. The gentle breeze carried with it the pollen of wildflowers and every inhale that he dragged into his burning lungs left him intoxicated–hungry for more, until he drowned in it. At his side was a raw honeycomb, cracked open to expose the thick, glistening rivulets of sweet amber nectar. It left his fingers sticky and his mouth watering.

When he had woken, heart pounding and cold sweat clinging to his skin, Katsuki could still hear Her voice, distant and gentle. He had been promised another half–just as everyone had expected–but the omega that had invaded his very essence, from his memories to his dreams, wasn’t the demure heir to the Todoroki bloodline.

It was someone else entirely. Someone that Katsuki knew would never accept him–nor the delicate thread of red string that now tethered their destinies to one another.

Capricorn wasn’t the constellation that had stitched itself into the inside of his wrist. It was Cancer instead, soft-hearted and ruled by the moon.

He had never been the type to pay attention during their astrology lessons when he was still a pup, his mind far too full with daydreams of swinging a sword with the echoes of a victorious battle-cry still burning against his throat to let himself have even an inkling of interest in what the stars had to say.

And yet, something within him stirred. A divine compatibility blessed by their patron goddess–and though Katsuki’s insides ran cold and numb, the alpha within him howled in triumph.

Something within him, something selfish and terrible, rejoiced.

Finally, finally, finally–he had an excuse, a reason, to give his alpha exactly what it so desperately ached for. Demeter had gift-wrapped and hand-delivered the only excuse he needed to pluck exactly what the most primal part of him had laid claim to all those years ago.

But Katsuki wasn’t delusional; the day before, when Izuku could hardly be bothered to look at him much less marvel at his strength and prowess, had been proof enough for him to know that this match was one made in hell more than it was one fashioned by the Goddess of fertility, Herself.

Teeth gritted together and as Katsuki flexed his fingers into the hilt of the dagger attached to his hip, he forced himself up to his feet. His movements were sharp and jerky, muscles twitching with thinly-veiled apprehension.

“Nothing,” Katsuki finally ground out through his clenched jaw. He yanked at the fur-lined hem of his cloak, careful to keep his exposed wrist out of view. “Let’s move. The sun’s gonna be up soon, I ain’t got the time to waste showing you fuckin’ numbskulls shit. You’ll find out tonight anyway, right?”

His grunts left the three alphas, rowdy and excitable moments earlier, in uncomfortable silence. Even Hanta and Denki had paused in their mutual ribbing to exchange strange looks with one another as the oppressive musk of Katsuki’s pheromones lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

The blonde turned his back to them, lips pressed into a thin line and his own apprehension sizzling.

“Right…” Eijirou’s uncertain mumble sounded fuzzy and distant, like Katsuki had cotton stuffed into his ears. “Alright, guys. Let’s move, we’re gonna start the hunt, so follow Bakugou. Get into position…”

He didn’t bother waiting. Katsuki stalked past the threshold of the woods fringing Musutafu and as the skeletal branches overhead danced in the frigid breeze, the alpha couldn’t help but scratch anxiously at the inside of his wrist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

Izuku wasn’t sure how many hours passed.

It was Toshinori who had thrown the rickety door to Izuku’s quarters open to find him, sunken blue eyes wide with the alpha’s need to protect its pups. The sound of Izuku’s sobs had been loud enough to wake both him and Inko–and it had been the former War Chief who had clambered out of their bedroll to find him first. Inko trailed closely behind him, the wrinkles under her eyes more pronounced with her grogginess.

Izuku didn’t remember much more after that save for the burn of tears behind his eyes and the angry, stinging throb of the constellation stitched into his wrist.

He vaguely recalled the way Inko had gathered him up into her arms and shushed him gently to chase away whatever nightmare haunted him while Toshinori hovered close by—but more than that, it was the way her quiet breaths stuttered to a halt as Izuku turned his hand and exposed the tender, reddened flesh of Demeter’s mark that stuck with him.

“Oh,” Inko had whispered, head lifting enough to exchange wide-eyed looks with Toshinori as he leaned close to peer down at Izuku’s huddled-up figure. “Honey… It’s okay.” She tried to comfort him, arms wrapping around his shoulders and her cheek resting against the crown of his head. “I know this is scary, but it’ll be okay.”

Izuku didn’t have it in him to protest. All he could do was cry—out of frustration, anger, and confusion all at once.

Demeter didn’t make mistakes—that’s what Inko had always told him. It had been meant to be a comfort, a sense of security intended to remind Izuku that no matter how lost he felt, that trusting in Her wouldn’t lead him astray.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself of that, though, the lurch of his heart inside of his chest as it battered against his ribcage left him nauseous and dazed.

The sun rose sooner rather than later and their small hut had fallen into a hushed, uncomfortable silence.

Izuku had managed to drag himself free from the pelts and quilts weighing down his bedroll in favor of wandering through the corridors with a glazed-over look in his eyes.

Soon, the omega found himself in the modest garden he had been tending to for the better part of the last ten years.

It was little more than a small, partitioned section of dirt and loam tucked away behind the rear entrance of the cabin he and his mother called home. Some might even hesitate to call it a garden at all–but for Izuku, it was a safe-haven he had curated with his own hands.

Much of his plants had withered away at the start of the winter, but the few bushels of sage and thyme that had managed to withstand the cold swayed in the frigid breeze. There were a few maturing shallot stems poking through the earth, but Izuku knew they were too young to be harvested.

Tending to the numerous vegetables, fruits, and herbs that had grown within his humble garden had been one of the only things that had brought the young omega comfort over the years.

His secondary nature, while quiet and disagreeable with Izuku’s true desires for the most part, often rumbled in contentment when the fruits of his labor yielded him fresh vegetables for his mother’s stew or a healthy harvest of mint and burdock in case of emergency—proof that his scarred and calloused hands were just as capable of nurturing as Demeter had intended them to be.

His garden had always been a source of comfort, a place for him to seek solace when the voices of his insecurities grew too loud, too brazen for him to ignore.

As Izuku sat at the edge of the dirt patch, legs folded and pulled up to his chest as his chin rested atop his knees, the garden that once left him with a tender smile upon his lips looked as empty and desolate as he felt on the inside.

The weight of Toshinori’s hand resting upon his shoulder was what pulled him from the cloudy haze of thoughts muddling through his head.

Izuku inhaled, sharp and quiet, before his head tilted back to meet a familiar gaze. The smile on the older alpha’s gaunt features was full of warmth and kindness—a welcome reprieve from the bitter cold of the winter air surrounding them.

“You’ll catch a cold like this, Young Midoriya.” His voice was a gentle rumble, hand pulling away in favor of shrugging off the large fur cloak hanging off of his shoulders. Toshinori draped it around Izuku’s hunched figure before shifting to crouch at his side.

Izuku felt his fingers tremble as he wrapped them into its hem; the wool lining was warm and despite himself, the omega exhaled a low, shuddering sigh of defeat. He huddled up beneath it, tucking his knees even closer to his chest as he hugged them. He didn’t acknowledge Toshinori at first, turning his head away so that his hollow gaze could study the fuzzy leaves of the sage plant growing at the garden’s edge.

“I’ll be fine, Toshinori,” Izuku finally mumbled, his voice little more than a fractured rasp. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles—as if doing so would actually wipe the bone-deep exhaustion away. “Really, you don’t need to worry. I’ll be okay.”

It was a lie—a bold-faced and brazen one—but Toshinori didn’t seem to mind. He never did—even when Izuku was bitter and catty, he stood patiently with his arms outstretched.

Izuku would have once given an arm and a leg to breathe the same air as the former War Chief but he now found himself wishing the man would leave him to wallow in his self-pity uninterrupted.

But Toshinori was a noble man, one that couldn’t bear to let even the weakest pup go hungry or allow any of his people to leave his presence with wet eyes or a running nose. Those very traits are what lead Izuku to develop the unwavering hero worship that drove him through his young adolescence.

Every pup in Musutafu had grown up hearing the harrowing tales of War Chief Yagi and all the terrible, gruesome evils he had defeated with a sword in hand and a smile on his face.

An adventurer that had come to Musutafu from the foreign village of Yuuei, the very place that had condemned Izuku to the life of an omega, Toshinori Yagi led the people with nothing but his burning passion to save driving him.

Izuku was young when Toshinori stepped back and allowed Enji Todoroki to succeed him. With no pups of his own to succeed him, the reign of peace at Toshinori Yagi’s hands came to an end—and though he, like many other young pups at the time, had wept over the fact that Musutafu’s very own hero was out of commission, he soon found himself taken in under Toshinori’s protection.

Toshinori took a shine to Inko, saying her kind, maternal instincts and wide eyes reminded him of someone from his past. It was strange for an alpha to take on a beta as their mate but their courtship was one of mutual affection. In the interim, Toshinori Yagi went from a figment of Izuku’s wildest dreams of valor and bravery to the only father figure he had ever known.

Perhaps that was exactly why Toshinori didn’t heed his deflections. Instead, the alpha heaved out a tired sigh and shifted to sit down on the snowy ground at Izuku’s side. He heaved a low groan as one of his joints cracked audibly, forcing Izuku’s head to snap up and his brows to pinch together in concern.

Toshinori lifted his hand up in defense, a kind smile still resting upon his lips. “I’m an old man,” he teased, “my bones will creak anytime there’s snow on the ground.”

The comforting scent of leather and spiced cloves filled Izuku’s nostrils and, in spite of himself, he heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” the omega finally ventured, voice quiet and hushed. He reached with one hand, idly twisting his fingers through the fuzzy leaves of the sage growing closest to him. “For taking care of everything…”

”I did what I had to do, there’s no reason to thank me.” Always so dutiful and steadfast, Toshinori didn’t accept thanks where he didn’t find it to be warranted. “Your mother is worried about you.” His voice dropped to a quiet murmur and Izuku flinched.

His fingers curled, digging into the rough material of his trousers. Izuku didn’t bother looking up to meet Toshinori’s concerned gaze.

“I know she is.” The confession was tight and uncomfortable, catching in his throat before he could spit it out. “I’m sorry for worrying her, I really am…” The unspoken, conditional but hung in the air between them.

The silence that lapsed between them lasted for what felt like an eternity before Toshinori cleared his throat.

“You know, a long time ago, when I first came to Musutafu, I had that dream, too.”

Suddenly, Izuku’s gaze snapped up. Green hues stretched wide with shock, mouth falling open in slack-jawed surprise. In his youth, when Toshinori was a faraway symbol more than he was his surrogate father, Izuku had poured over every tome and scroll he could get his hands on to learn about the life and adventures of the lauded War Chief.

Not once in his research did Izuku read about Toshinori Yagi taking on a mate—much less a fated other half by Demeter, Herself.

His brows furrowed, forehead creasing as he clicked his tongue. “You did? But I never read about you having a mate in any of the records…”

Toshinori breathed out a quiet laugh. “Because it all fell through.”

Izuku lapsed into stunned silence. “Fell through?” The question he parroted left him with a certain level of reluctance.

”I guess that’s the simplest way to say it…” Toshinori’s sigh held an air of melancholy to it as he tilted his head back to gaze up at the sky. Izuku followed his eyes, watching the trail of wispy clouds sail gently past the winter sun. The shadows it cast bathed them in cool gray—as if Demeter was mourning the loss of whatever it was that Toshinori once had.

He was silent for another long moment before he continued. “It’s strange. Mirai and I were friends long before the decision was made for us. He was tireless and headstrong, but kind. He was by my side for so long that the idea of us being meant for one another made more sense than I would have anticipated.”

Mirai Sasaki—Toshinori didn’t need to elaborate for Izuku to know exactly who he was. The man was a foreigner that had come to Musutafu and ascended the ranks in record time to stand as Toshinori’s Second in Command. It was a fact that Izuku had memorized long ago, ingrained into his encyclopedic knowledge of Toshinori Yagi.

He knew exactly who he was: an intelligent inventor who had created weaponry and numerous devices to advance Musutafu’s force of warriors. Izuku knew that much. And yet…

”None of the records I’ve looked at said that Mirai Sasaki was an omega, though,” Izuku said, his tone quiet and reluctant. “He was a warrior, wasn’t he?”

”He was.” Toshinori turned to meet Izuku’s curious gaze. “One of the finest, if I may say so myself.”

”But he was an omega.” The statement left Izuku’s lips with more reluctant apprehension than he intended for it to.

“Yes, he was an omega, too.” This time, there was a soft blush of humor coloring Toshinori’s voice—as if he wanted to breathe out a chuckle at Izuku’s disbelief. “Young Midoriya,” he started again, hand finding Izuku’s shoulder once more, “do you remember what I told you when you were little? Still just a pup?”

Izuku sighed, gaze dropping out of embarrassment. He rubbed at the back of his neck and pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Yes, I do,” he whispered, the scent of withered wildflowers and spoiled honey slowly thickening the air around him. Toshinori’s endless patience was just another example of his kindness—but right then, Izuku couldn’t help but feel as if he was being scolded.

”And what was it that I said?”

”That being an omega doesn’t make me less capable.” The words left Izuku’s left tonelessly, like he was reciting a line from a particularly droll novel. “That I could be anything I wanted to be.”

”Exactly.” He gave Izuku’s shoulder a tight but comforting squeeze. “I didn’t tell you that without knowing it was possible. It wasn’t an empty promise.”

The curdled edge to Izuku’s scent deepened—this time with a guilt so heavy his shoulders sagged. “I know,” he mumbled, shifting to rest his forehead against his knee, hiding his face. Maybe this way, Toshinori wouldn’t notice the way his lower lip trembled. “I am grateful, you know. For everything.” He hated the way his voice broke, fracturing until it wavered completely.

The hand Toshinori rested on his shoulder shifted to rub small, comforting circles against his back. “We used to train together back here all the time,” the alpha reflected, his tone a soft murmur. “I remember showing you how to throw a proper punch and land a kick. You were always so excited. I told you that you could do anything because I believed in you.”

Suddenly, Izuku’s throat felt tight and the heat behind his eyes returned.

His childhood hero, the very man that was everything Izuku wanted to be, had been the one to guide him in his youth. When he had freshly presented and the very world around him had started to crumble into dust, Toshinori pushed him regardless.

For a few short years, Izuku still had hope. Toshinori hid his secret adventures in the forest from his mother with a smile and a laugh—and together, as they lingered behind the small hut Izuku called home, Toshinori would teach him the skills needed for a warrior to succeed in battle.

Sometimes it was combat moves—but most times, it was strategy and tact. How to read an enemy’s movements, how to find openings during a battle in real-time. Everything Izuku lacked in brute strength, he could make up with his intellect. It was Toshinori, himself, who had fostered a love for observation and application within him.

Except, at the end of the day, it was Izuku’s own insecurities that dragged him back to square one.

At the age of fourteen, alphas who wished to take on the role of warrior within the village took part in a week-long challenge to prove their chops. They’d be given one weapon of their choice and a medium-sized satchel that they could fill with anything they deemed fit—and from that point on, they were sent off into the woods to survive.

Those with the will-power, strength, and mental fortitude to brave the woods after dark for seven days and six nights would be taken in under the War Chief’s wing as warrior apprentices. They would train tirelessly and after they’ve invested enough blood, sweat, and tears into their ambitions, they’d be officially inducted as warriors.

Toshinori had taught him everything he possibly could to outwit the others, providing him with all the knowledge he’d need to secure the apprenticeship he so desperately desired.

He was given a chance to try, a chance to become something he wanted to be—except the night before the start of the assessment, Izuku found himself with a face full of dirt and eyes flooded with angry tears.

A flash of burning red, bared teeth, and a snarl that could shake the earth—it had all been too much. Izuku still remembered his words, as sharp and pointed as a knife.

”What the hell are you thinking? Taking the assessment as an omega… You have to be out of yer goddamn mind, Deku.”

It stung.

“You think this shit is a game? That you’re gonna make it out there? Like hell.”

The knife twisted.

”I swear on Demeter’s name, I’ll kill you if I see your ass out there.”

If Katsuki Bakugou had kicked him while he was down and spat on him at the same time, it would’ve hurt less.

But Izuku couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t find the words to fire back with his newfound conviction—because all he could do was cry. Cry like the simpering, useless, pathetic omega he was because, at the end of the day, he wasn’t fit to be like him. Destined for mediocrity at best, Izuku Midoriya failed before he could even begin.

Izuku didn’t realize silent tears were working their way down his cheeks until the familiar scent of leather and cloves grew stronger—a protective instinct from the alpha that had taken him under his wing.

”I’m sorry,” Izuku hiccuped, lifting his head enough to wipe his tears from his ruddy cheeks with the back of his hand. “I know… I know you did. I failed you back then and ever s-since, I…”

”Young Mid—“ Toshinori sighed. “Izuku.”

He gave a small, wet sniff of acknowledgement.

”I didn’t bring that up to make you feel bad, pup.” Toshinori’s hand shifted to rest in a mess of tangled green curls. “I brought it up to remind you that no matter how tough it seems, you’ll find a way. You have the spirit and the courage. I’ve never met a pup with as much potential as you do and I don’t say that lightly.”

Izuku peered up at him, wide green eyes hazy with unshed tears. “You mean that?” His voice was quiet and hoarse.

”Yes,” Toshinori assured, rubbing his scalp gently. “I mean every word of it.”

The omega fell quiet and looked down again, forcing a slow, stuttering breath into his lungs in an attempt at steadying his racing heart. The pause of silence between them was drawn out but the discomfort Izuku felt earlier slowly began to melt away. Even after all these years, Toshinori found a way to remind Izuku that the world wasn’t as bleak as he thought it would be.

“You didn’t tell me what happened to Mirai,” Izuku croaked after another beat.

”He was killed.”

It’s stated so calmly and coolly that Izuku had to double take. “He was… killed?” His echoed question was dubious and hesitant.

Toshinori nodded. “That winter, we were attacked by a group of bandits and rogues. Musutafu was so preoccupied with the festivities that we were left wide open—and I couldn’t protect him. It’s one of my biggest regrets.”

Izuku fell silent, mulling over his words before he drew in a small breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, brows knitting together. The omega shifted, letting his weight lean into Toshinori’s side. “I… can’t imagine.”

The man exhaled a low hum. Turning his hand over, Toshinori tugged the sleeve of his left arm up high enough to expose his wrist. As a former War Chief, he was littered in scars—but as he pushed his hand closer and Izuku squinted, he could make out the delicate threads of a scar that looked frighteningly like the constellation for Capricorn.

Izuku felt his eyes grow wide, breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t like the fresh thread of fine red string that had stitched itself into his own wrist, but a worn and weathered scar that left the faintest inkling of an outline.

The years had been unkind to it and it hadn’t lasted in full—put the ghost of a soulmate past lingered nonetheless. It was sobering, a reminder that even Toshinori had loved then lost.

“In a way, we’re still together.” Toshinori heaved a quiet sigh as Izuku studied it, reaching to gently trace its outline with hesitant fingers. “I love your mother greatly. But I know what it means to have a soulmate and to be thrust into a role of great responsibility. Having the eyes of an entire village on you may be daunting, but…” He let his sleeve fall back into place, concealing where his soul mark was. “… if there’s anyone else who can handle this burden, it’s you, Izuku Midoriya. You’ve always been so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

The green-haired omega pursed his lips. The pinch of his brows left his forehead creased and as Toshinori’s words settled over him, he heaved out a deep breath. “It doesn’t feel like it,” he whispered, swallowing back the lump threatening to lodge in his throat all over again. “The alpha that I’m—I’m supposed to be mated to…”

”Is Young Bakugou.” Toshinori finished his sentence for him.

Izuku felt his chest grow tight. “He hates me.” His voice was bitter and heavy with a melancholy that felt foreign even to him. “Ever since we were little, the only thing he’s ever done is tell me I can’t be anywhere near as good as him. How? How is that the person I’m supposed to be with? I’m nothing like the other omegas that want him—the ones that should be with him!” The omega clenched his teeth and the sour stench of a rotted honeycomb followed suit.

“I’m not—made to tend to the home. I’m not made to carry and birth pup after pup! I’m nothing like what Demeter wants and still! I’m somehow chosen to be with him. He can’t even look at me, Toshinori!” The exasperation in his voice forced his words to waver and for a second, Izuku was certain he was going to cry all over again. “There’s no way this can work. Not when I’m the village’s best example of everything an omega shouldn’t be. Not when I’m not enough.”

Not enough for him. The omega within him, the creature that lay dormant from how often it went neglected, whimpered suddenly. Not enough, never enough, will never be enough.

Toshinori gives him a long, meaningful look. “Demeter is a Goddess who values motherhood and fertility, it’s true,” he posited, “but if there’s one thing I want you to think about, it’s the fact that myths are called myths and not truths for a reason. Not everything that word of mouth claims as an inherent reality is what it seems.”

Izuku blinked owlishly up at him. The statement was so bizarre that his tears immediately went dry. “What?” the omega hooted, lips curling into a small frown.

”I just mean,” the alpha pressed on with another sigh, “that if you compare yourself to the expectations the people put on you more than what Demeter told you Herself in your dream, then you’re only doing yourself a disservice, Young Midoriya.”

He fell quiet, the sound of his shaky breaths the only response he could provide.

Running a hand through his blonde hair, Toshinori shifted to stand back up.

“I’ve worked with Young Bakugou a handful of times over the years, since his apprenticeship.” He dusted off the thick conglomerates of snow clinging to the legs of his trousers. “He’s… headstrong and hot-headed, yes. His attitude leaves a lot to be desired, too. However…” Toshinori pressed his thin lips together, hesitating for only a brief moment before he continued. “I think this is just as confusing and difficult for him, too.”

Before Izuku could protest, Toshinori reached out to him. The omega eyed his hand reluctantly for a brief moment before he sighed and clasped his smaller one into his. Toshinori grunted, pulling with just enough force to mostly Izuku back onto his feet.

”I doubt it,” Izuku finally mumbled, voice as curdled and bitter as his pheromones.

”It’s not my place to ask you to forgive what hasn’t been asked forgiveness for,” he amended, “but as someone who cares, as someone who views you as a son more than anything…”

Izuku’s chest tightened. The tears that pricked at his eyes as his head snapped up to search Toshinori’s expression weren’t from sadness this time.

”… I only want what’s best for you, Izuku.” Toshinori’s face had grown gaunt and sallow over the years—but despite it all, the kindness in his expression was impossible to mistake. “Demeter has a habit of being a bit roundabout but I have hope that this will work itself out in a way that might surprise all of us. Maybe this is your chance to show all of Musutafu that being an omega isn’t one size fits all, but instead a unique experience that can be molded into something else entirely.”

Izuku gave a small sniff, quickly wiping at his eyes once more. “Toshinori…”

“Come here,” he murmured gently, arms outstretched.

He didn’t hesitate, rushing forward until his arms wrapped tightly around Toshinori’s thin frame. Izuku’s face buried into his chest until he could breathe in the scent he had long since learned to associate with security, with family.

Toshinori’s arms enveloped him and he gave Izuku a tight, secure squeeze. He didn’t fight as Izuku’s shoulders shook and he hiccuped over the sob he had been fighting back all this time.

“You’re going to be just fine, pup,” he whispered. “One way or another.”

Izuku sniffed, nodding his head where it’s hidden against Toshinori’s chest. “Thank you,” he mumbled hoarsely.

“Don’t thank me. Let’s get you inside before your mother decides to drag you in, herself.”

Izuku choked out a wet-sounding laugh. “Yes, good idea…”

For the first time since he woke that morning, the aching sting of the Taurus constellation imprinted against his wrist finally soothed.

Chapter Text

The innocence and naivety of youth were gifts that were so often taken for granted; in a world ruled by expectations and responsibilities, the carefree joy of tumbling through overgrown grass to dance among the fireflies was a sensation cursed to become nothing more than a bittersweet memory in due time.

They were once two young pups, hands clasped together and their joint laughter echoing through the summer skies as they took the world before them by the horns and challenged it with their stubborn resolve. Back then, when the rising sun meant endless hours of playtime and adventures, Izuku Midoriya looked at Katsuki Bakugou like he hung every last star in the sky.

Reverence and adoration, devotion and fondness—verdant eyes never once left him and it was the only thing Katsuki could have ever asked for.

His adventures grew brazen, a test of his bravery and valiance that pushed the boundaries time and time again. Exhilaration followed closely at his heels, a heady rush that left his cheeks sore from the breadth of his grin and his chest swelling with pride.

His penchant for trouble left him with bloody noses, purpling bruises, and far too many lectures from his mother—but none of that mattered. The adrenaline, the residual aches and pains—it paled in comparison to the way his heart howled with joy, with triumph when small, chubby hands clapped together.

The sound of Izuku’s pitched giggles were the only encouragement he needed—the only he’d ever need. He was sure of it.

They were six years old and chasing grasshoppers in the clearing that the pair had unofficially laid claim to when something shifted.

Streaks of blood-orange light from the setting sun bathed the billowing fronds of grass in a warm glow and the muted rattle of cicadas singing to the breeze filled the air. As Katsuki barked out a loud, commanding peal of laughter, he turned on his heel to look back at the boy bounding tirelessly behind him.

”C’mon, hurry up!” Katsuki’s booming call held an air of impatience—but the excitement lurking beneath his words far outweighed his annoyance. The grin he wore was full of teeth—save for the one his mother had pulled out from the front only two days earlier after he had smacked himself directly into the thick, wooden fencing of the animal pens.

His expression was wolfish and wild, but as he extended a hand out, fingers outstretched, there was no mistake that the young pup wanted one thing and one thing alone. “I’m gonna catch all the ‘hoppers before you do, Izu! Then I’m gonna be king of the meadow and you’re gonna lose!”

”Kacchan, no!” Izuku’s soft wail was wobbly and breathless; his legs were shorter than Katsuki’s and his strides covered less ground—but that did little to quell him from racing as fast as he could to match pace. “I’m coming! Don’t go!” His curls bobbed with every footfall and his freckled cheeks grew pink and ruddy from the exertion

His green curls were wild and untamed; Katsuki once told him as they sat under the sprawling branches of a wide pine tree at the village’s outskirts that his hair looked like the forest—messy and unkempt, but just as green and just as thick. He possessed freckles that dusted over his chubby cheeks and against the bridge of his nose, a constellation of stars that kissed Izuku’s tan skin.

Katsuki had long since memorized the way Izuku looked—and though he still found himself gazing intently at the other pup to count out the little dots dappled over his face, the blonde found that it was Izuku’s eyes that captivated him the most.

Wide and always so full of awe, doe-like in the way they trailed after every little step Katsuki took—Izuku’s eyes were what pulled Katsuki back any time they pushed themselves too hard in their games, any time his pitiful scrapes turned into bloody gashes or his his grin turned into anything even close to a scowl.

It was Izuku’s eyes that grounded him when he needed it the most, when the bubbling anger and rage within him suddenly threatened to spill over like a pot left over the hearth for too long.

Look at me, Katsuki wanted to tell him. Look only at me.

Even as Izuku’s foot caught in a tangle of unearthed roots and his small body pitched forward with a sharp squeal of protest, it was his eyes—frantic and teary—that Katsuki saw last before he had a face full of dirt and a mouth of dried, summer-scorched grass.

In an instant, the grin resting upon Katsuki’s features twisted into a snarl, lips curled back and teeth bared. He tore through the grass, crossing the short distance between himself and Izuku within moments.

“Izuku!” he called out, the sound of his voice echoing through the meadow.

When he reached the boy, Izuku was cowering on the ground with his small shoulders shuddering and hiccuped sobs wracking his body. Katsuki grabbed for him rougher than he knew he should, clasping his shoulders and hoisting Izuku up enough to take stock—instinctive, reflexive, like Katsuki was born for it.

Izuku’s ruddy cheeks were tear-stained and smudged with dirt and his elbows grazed—but it was his knee that forced the young pup’s eyes to grow wide with alarm.

A large, raw scrape spanned the front of the boy’s left leg, stopping at the top of his knee. It was angry and red, spots of blood mottling his damaged flesh. Blindly, Katsuki reached to yank Izuku up into a proper sitting position, causing him to squeal in protest.

”K-Kacchan, it h-hurts…” A wet sniff followed. “Ouch…”

Something rumbled inside of his chest, guttural and primal, but small and rattling—immature growls from a pup that had years ahead of him to grow big and strong.

The sound crawled up his throat and vibrated behind his clenched teeth—and though Katsuki had been there to watch Izuku trip over his two left feet far too many times to count, something within him snapped like it never had before.

The anger that boiled within him was white-hot, scorching him from the inside. His stomach tightened and it felt like acid was coursing through his veins—burning, burning, burning.

Every sob and hiccup Izuku squeaked out only made his bones ache even more, stoking the kerosene-steeped fire that had sparked to life inside of his chest without warning. Somewhere in the haze of fury, a wolf howled.

Hurt because of you. It was cruel and mean-spirited, an echo of a snarl that cut through his mind, leaving Katsuki stiff until his body trembled and his small hands balled up into white-knuckled fists. Hurt because you didn’t protect.

Katsuki was just a pup, a boy too young to understand what it meant for the beast within him to rear its head and call upon the truth of his nature. He was just a pup when the alpha dwelling inside of him turned against him; as Katsuki drew in a choppy, shuddering breath, his vision swam and everything went red.

He forgot he had a hand twisted into the front of Izuku’s tunic until it was too late. Katsuki’s small fist flexed with sudden force, dragging the green-haired boy close with a rough yank. Izuku choked out a stuttered sob in protest, squirming and wriggling with one of his shaking hands clasping at Katsuki’s wrist.

”Kacchan—”

”Stop crying!”

The echoes of his shout bounced through the clearing and suddenly, the cicadas went silent.

“Stop crying! Stop it! Stop it, you crybaby!”

The hand in his tunic yanked again and Izuku whimpered, the scrape in his knee dragging against the dirt while he choked out in protest.

The sound of it made the hair at the back of Katsuki’s neck stand on end while goosebumps left him shivering. With every pathetic whimper, every stuttering and wet-sounding sob, something twisted within his chest.

“Stop it, I don’t want to hear you! Did you hear me, Izuku? Stop crying!”

And then those beautiful green eyes looked up at him and for the first time in his life, Katsuki found himself repulsed.

Izuku’s gaze, always so full of awe and devotion, looked at him with something else entirely.

Fear.

Katsuki’s stomach clenched. Don’t look at me like that, something inside of him begged. Don’t. Not like that. Look at me, but not like that.

The blood running through Katsuki’s veins went from burning his insides to running as cold as ice, frigid tendrils curling around his heart until it froze altogether. In an instant, the blood roaring in his ears left him deaf to the sound of Izuku’s stuttering breaths and fractured cries.

The only thing the pup could comprehend was the sight of the distress leaving deep, green depths wet with tears he was too afraid to shed.

If Katsuki had a mirror to peer into in that moment, he wondered what he would see–what it was that Izuku saw when he looked up at him with those large, frightened eyes.

Did he see a monster? A wolf with teeth and pupils blown wide?

Was that why he looked at Katsuki like he had violently ripped the stars from the sky and left him in the dark?

Katsuki felt ill. Bile rose in his throat and his tongue burned with its bitterness. His shaking hands moved without warning, acting on an instinct that Katsuki couldn’t make sense of.

The fingers he had twisted through the linen of Izuku’s tunic hoisted the boy up until he was halfway onto his feet. Izuku’s breath caught in his throat as he cried out another blubbering stream of Kacchan, stop! Kacchan, ouch! Stop it, you’re hurting me! through his hiccups but Katsuki couldn’t hear him.

The ear-splitting sound of his pulse ricocheting through his skull was the only thing he could make out over the guttural growls the creature stirring within him spewed out. Every time it snuffed, every time it snarled, his heart jackhammered against his ribs.

Heat built behind Katsuki’s eyes and for the first time, the young pup that had spent so long being both praised and admonished for his bravery wanted to cry.

Out of frustration, out of anger–he wasn’t sure. It was impossible to tell but whatever it was, there was only one thought in his head.

Make it stop!

He wanted to shake him by the front of his shirt but as his hands trembled and the tension in his muscles coiled, all Katsuki could do was bare his teeth and growl.

Izuku hiccuped again, small hands pushing uselessly into his chest. Whining and crying, Izuku put his weight behind it just enough to force the blonde to stumble.

The hands in Izuku’s tunic shoved forward, hard, and with a sudden squeal of both surprise and alarm, Izuku fell back and tumbled back onto the very ground he had tripped over. The boy crumpled, wild green curls shrouding his chubby, ruddy face as he curled in on himself.

Izuku coiled into fetal position, hugging his bloodied knee close to his chest while his small shoulders shook with the tears streaking his freckled cheeks.

He whimpered, one hand reaching to swipe shakily at his tears–and when Katsuki lorded over him, small hands balled into shaking fists at his side and his teeth bared, he couldn’t bring himself to look up at him.

For some sick, twisted reason, the bow of Izuku’s head left the infant beast lurking within Katsuki placated. He wasn’t looking up at him anymore and Katsuki didn’t have to see those wide, tear-filled green eyes anymore.

The tightness in his chest unraveled. His breaths didn’t burn as much anymore.

The rage that had been boiling over only moments earlier finally eased into a simmer. As Katsuki gave a haughty sniff, the dull ache of his anger left him reeling and feeling far too small for his skin.

Where Katsuki once tended to Izuku’s tender heart with lionhearted bravery, he now stood and looked at the heap he once called a friend down his nose with a new feeling entirely.

Disgust.

He couldn’t find the word–he was too young, no more than a pup who had come into a nature far beyond what his young mind was ready for, but as his stomach tightened and his lip curled, he knew he wanted nothing more to do with the weak, sniveling, useless mess before him.

He was repulsed by him. The way snot trickled from his nose and his breaths stuttered in his throat until he coughed over his sobs–it made him want to run far, far away.

If he pushed Izuku away, maybe, just maybe, the deafening snarl clouding his mind would fall silent.

Katsuki took a step back. Then another, and another, and another–until the distance between them was enough for him to finally ignore Izuku’s cries.

He felt his mouth move before he could stop himself, Katsuki's lingering growl threading through the words spilling past his lips.

“You’re such a crybaby, Izuku! It’s annoying! Can you do anything right? All you do is trip and fall, you can’t keep up with me! It’s stupid. You’re stupid!”

Before Izuku could cry out, before he could reach out to Katsuki with a shaking, chubby hand, the blonde turned on his heel and ran.

He ran as fast and as far as he could, tearing through the foliage despite the way the branches left bloodied welts against his legs and his arms. Katsuki didn’t stop until he barreled through the door of the cabin he called home, shouting as tears of frustration pricked at the corners of his eyes.

His mother appeared before him, carmine eyes wide as she gathered the pup into her arms. Katsuki couldn’t quite tell what it was she was saying, the dull roar of his blood pounding in his ears leaving the world around him faraway and hazy. When she tried to pull him close, his belligerence flared and his throat grew raw from the force of his snarl.

“Get away! Stop it! Don’t touch me!”

Except the cries of a young pup deep in the throes of his own nature were nothing in comparison to the ferocity of a mother with a den to protect.

Mitsuki recognized the agony that curdled her son’s voice–but more than that, she instantly understood why the air around him reeked of a pine forest set ablaze, burning everything in its wake to cinders and ash. It was the same reason the warm scent of milk no longer clung to his skin.

At the tender age of six, Katsuki Bakugou presented with his secondary nature–an alpha, brimming with enough power to reveal the wolf within him many years before most.

She held him close despite the way he thrashed and whispered in his ear, “I’ve got you.”

Katsuki wasn’t sure when his frustrated shouts had melted away, but as his mother’s familiar warmth enveloped him, he found the shake of his small shoulders quelling. The backs of his eyes burned and every time he tried to breathe and his throat still felt tight, but as Mitsuki gathered him close, Katsuki tried to ignore the howl of the wolf inside of him.

He clung to his mother and hid his face.

Katsuki wasn’t sure what it was that his mother was saying; the sound of her voice was hushed and gentle, an attempt at soothing him, but her comforting words only left him numb.

As his chest stirred and his eyes squeezed shut, Katsuki tried to force the monster growling at the back of his head into silence.

It didn’t work.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

Winter left the lush meadow barren and empty. A thick blanket of crisp snow, disturbed only by a lone trail of footprints, coated the clearing. The trees fringing its perimeter held tall, skeletal branches that were left naked and spindly from the biting cold. There was no song of the cicadas lingering in the wind nor did fireflies flicker to life against the dull gray skies overhead.

Izuku still remembered its warm beauty at the peak of the summer season–how the wildflowers blossomed and the crickets chirped into the twilight. There had been many days where he had laid amongst the clovers and daffodils to count the stars hanging in the sky, childish innocence leaving him with nothing but a smile on his face and joy in his eyes.

He had laughed and danced and played among the billowing fronds of grass. Memories like those were meant to be tinged with heartwarming nostalgia–but now, as he sat perched atop a large rock tucked against the edge of the clearing, he couldn’t help the bitter taste of bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

After his conversation with Toshinori, the older man had parted ways and said that he would be the one to send word of Izuku’s selection to the War Chief. It was then that the reality of the coming days finally began to sink in.

First, he was overwhelmed. Then, it was guilt.

As Izuku gathered his cloak and a spare satchel, he felt his heart sink as he considered what this meant for Shoto–the omega they had all but decided would be the one chosen to be the receiver of divine blessings.

Somehow, Izuku had managed to mess it up for his friend–and until he could scrounge up the nerve to show his face anywhere Shoto could see him, he needed to find somewhere to burrow away and hide.

His body moved on auto-pilot–and as his legs carried him to the edge of the very meadow he had once played in during the glowing years of his youth, Izuku jerked to an abrupt halt. His scent soured as he came to the uncomfortable realization that something inside of Izuku had drawn him here, to the very place everything fell apart well over a decade ago.

The fragile thread woven around his heart constricted ever so slightly and his chest began to feel tight.

Izuku desperately wanted to embrace the floundering hope Toshinori had tried so hard to instill within him, but as he tried to quell the race of his heart inside of his chest, he could only feel that same sense of dread and emptiness creep through him all over again.

After all, it was here in this very field that Kacchan had first turned his back on him.

The anguish and the heartbreak that had rotted him from the inside out that day all those years ago had left a scar that never quite healed. It was tender to this day, bruised and sore–a reminder that no matter how hard he fought, how hard he tried, he would never be enough.

Crybaby. He could feel fresh tears as his eyes began to grow hot with frustration. Such a stupid crybaby. Izuku’s nails dug into the thick fabric of his trousers as his fingers curled and his knuckles ran white. A crybaby who can’t keep up.

There was once a time when Kacchan was the one Izuku looked for when he had a bump or a bruise. It was Kacchan that held his hand and protected him from the dangers of this world.

Kacchan would always be there, Izuku had thought when all he had was his innocence and his childishness to fall back on. Kacchan will be by my side forever and ever.

Izuku dragged a shuddering breath into his lungs, ignoring how badly it burned. People changed and so, too, did promises, it seemed.

“It’s you.”

The deep grit of a faraway growl cut through the silence and Izuku felt his heart jump into his throat.

Izuku jolted, green eyes growing wide as he snapped his head up. His gaze was almost frantic as it searched through the clearing only to find the outline of an alpha’s thick frame against the backdrop of trees and undergrowth.

Even from this distance, the glowing red of his irises left Izuku frozen, like a lamb placed upon the altar for sacrifice.

Katsuki Bakugou stood at the edge of the clearing with his head held high and his jaw set. Even now, even after all these years, Izuku found it difficult to look away.

The cloak hanging from his shoulders was fashioned from a thick, red velvet. Its thick white fur trim flared around his neck, almost resembling the mane of lion that lorded over its pride. Despite the cold, he was bare-chested, exposing thick bands of ceremonial ink tattooed into his scarred skin.

If his thick, muscular physique and startling height weren’t enough to push enemy forces into cowers of submission, then the collection of necklaces toting the carved bones and teeth of those who had fallen to him in battle would surely strike fear in the hearts of even the most hardened villains.

The very picture of an alpha blessed by Demeter, Herself–everything that an omega should want.

Izuku swallowed. His throat felt tight when he finally forced himself to say with a hoarse exhale, “It’s me.” The inside of his wrist suddenly flared with a sting, as sharp as the kiss of a blade. Izuku flinched and tore his gaze away, nostrils flaring all the while. “What are you doing here?”

He knew it was a stupid question. The answer was throbbing angrily against his skin, forcing Izuku to grit his teeth to bite back the urge to hiss. He clasped at his wrist and dug his palm against his soul mark, hoping desperately that it would help soothe the ache by even a fraction.

The cool winter air soured. Pine wood burning in an open flame, thick and acrid, scorched Izuku’s lungs with a single inhale. He sputtered, swallowing back a groan as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. Lifting his head, Izuku shot Katsuki’s standing figure a sideways look.

The alpha’s jaw flexed. “Isn’t it obvious?” Katsuki’s growl was ground out through clenched teeth, thinly-veiled annoyance leaving his baritone timbre rasping.

In some sick, twisted way, Izuku felt the tension within him unravel ever so slightly as the realization that Katsuki was just as reluctant to verbalize what now existed between them dawned on him. As if saying it suddenly made it real, made it inescapable.

Izuku licked his teeth and forced a slow, shuddering breath through his nostrils. He willed himself not to choke on the stench of smoke and musk. With his lips pressed into a thin line, the green-haired omega dropped his gaze in favor of studying the constellation stitched into his skin.

”So you felt it, too?” Izuku’s question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. The stench of burning wood subsided—but in its wake, all Izuku could smell was decay and rot, a forest experiencing another kind of death entirely.

He lifted his gaze and settled the source of the soured pheromones with an unreadable look through narrowed eyes. Staring back at him with an equally guarded expression, Katsuki clicked his teeth in annoyance.

“You always asked the dumbest fucking questions, Deku.” Izuku visibly winced at the old nickname—the one Katsuki had coined after the day he had decided that the boy with the wild green curls wasn’t a friend anymore, but a nuisance that deserved to be left behind. “I didn’t need Demeter to tell me where the hell to find your stupid ass. You always were annoyingly sentimental. ‘Course you’d be here.”

His voice was little more than a low, lazy drawl, heavy with the edge of a growl that never quite seemed to leave him. Katsuki’s words left him off-handedly, like acknowledging Izuku at all was an afterthought. The omega felt his teeth clench together as the sweet undertone of honey in his scent began to sour, curdled milk and wilted flowers to push back against the oppressive stench of Katsuki’s pheromones.

Izuku wasn’t sure what upset him more—the fact that he seemed to care more about the memories they had built in this very meadow all those years ago or that Katsuki still managed to hit him where it still hurt, where his tender heart still chose to clung to the beauty of nostalgia.

His fingers curled into the Taurus constellation against his left wrist once more. “It’s quiet here,” Izuku rationalized. “I needed somewhere silent to think…”

Katsuki scoffed. He lifted one hand to his shoulder. As Izuku’s gaze followed, he felt his breath hitch in his throat as thick, scarred fingers clasped around the hilt of the broadsword slung across his back.

For a moment, the omega’s heart seized in his chest and his muscles grew rigid. Katsuki Bakugou was many things—a violent force of chaos on the battlefield, the embodiment of hell in a fur-lined cloak—but he was not the kind of alpha to draw his sword on a civilian.

“Relax,” Katsuki hissed suddenly, his voice little more than a low, pointed growl. The sound of the blade cutting through the air left the hair at the back of Izuku’s neck standing on end. “There’s a dead limb on this tree and if it stays, the entire damn thing is gonna get infected with fungus.” He grunted and with one swift movement, Katsuki sliced the razor-sharp edge of his broadsword through one of the low-hanging boughs of a tree nestled at the meadow’s edge.

Izuku scowled to himself, halfway out of embarrassment at thinking for even a second that perhaps Katsuki’s rage had finally gotten the better of him.

He scratched at the back of his scalp, wincing as his fingers snared in a particularly nasty knot of tangled curls. “Surprise you even noticed,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Oxyporus fungi have been invading a lot of the trees in the village recently…”

The rhythmic sound of a blade splitting through wood filled the air and for a moment, Izuku thought Katsuki hadn’t heard him. As the limb finally creaked and tumbled to the ground, falling into the snow-covered ground with an unceremonious crash, the alpha scoffed.

“Hah. You think I’m some kinda idiot, Deku? Think you’re the only damn person in this village that’s ever read a damn scroll or tome?” He slid the broadsword back into place over his shoulder before brilliant red hues cut across the clearing to catch Izuku’s gaze. The fire behind his eyes burned and Izuku found his breath hitching in his throat, unable to look away.

“Quit actin’ like you’re a fuckin’ genius and that I’m some kinda idiot. Always hated that about you. Self-important nerd.” He spat out the last word with his lip curled, baring the pointed ends of his alpha fangs. “Who the hell d’you think’s been cutting the dead branches off the trees in the entire damn village? It sure as hell wasn’t Denki, I can tell you that much.”

Izuku puffed his cheeks and tore his gaze away. The sour, curdled edge to his scent deepened enough that even he nearly gagged on it as he drew in an inhale.

Truth be told, the omega had noticed that a few trees throughout Musutafu had cuts in place of where thick, older branches once were. It had been fascinating, something Izuku had pondered over the course of a few weeks.

Every cut was smooth and precise—too clean for a commoner with an axe to leave behind. Izuku had assumed that one of the lumberers from the village had taken it upon themself to tend to a problem before it could spread, but with the mysterious caretaker of the trees getting to them before Izuku could time and time again, he found himself at a loss.

He wondered what it was that had the trees needing to be trimmed so meticulously—and as he sifted through his mental encyclopedia of knowledge, he could only assume it was an invasive fungus that had taken hold and begun to spread under their noses. He had noticed a few trunks scattered throughout the forest fostering clusters of fungi.

It had taken him some time to identify the polypore formations as Oxyporus, a genus of fungus that had a penchant for causing rot to spread throughout otherwise healthy trees.

To think it was Katsuki who had figured out the issue and took it upon himself to try and keep the plague from spreading through the forest—Izuku couldn’t help but shrink back.

All this time, he had only ever considered the blonde-haired alpha to be nothing more than a brute with violent tendencies and a hair-trigger temper—only for him to have been the one to have bested Izuku in his investigation of what ailed the nature surrounding them.

Demeter’s whisper cut through the jumble of thoughts in his mind: Your protector awaits you.

Izuku let his eyes slowly lift up to meet the carmine gaze burning into him—and as brilliant greens locked onto jeweled rubies, he exhaled a slow sigh.

”You just never struck me as the type to care much about anything outside of fighting and hunting. Much less, the trees.”

”You know fuck all about me, Deku.” Katsuki growled.

He flinched. Izuku deserved that one, it was true—but the fact was that it worked both ways.

He licked his teeth and willed himself to hold his head high and chin jutting out. “And you barely know anything about me. I never once called you an idiot. Not ever.” His voice was prickly, colored with an annoyance that he struggled to conceal.

Something unreadable flashed in the depths of Katsuki’s gaze and his eyebrow twitched. His nostrils flared and the sneer that lingered on his expression was enough for Izuku to know that he was repulsed by the unyielding reek of his pheromones. It was a wonder that Katsuki hadn’t reached up to physically plug his nose up by now.

”Yeah?” Katsuki’s drawl was almost mocking. “And who’s fuckin’ fault is that?”

Suddenly, anger flared inside of Izuku’s chest and Demeter’s gentle promise burned away entirely.

His shoulders shook and small, scarred hands balled up into fists at his side. Without warning, Izuku jumped to his feet and curled his own lip back. Omegas were meant to be soft and demure, gentle and nurturing—but right then, Izuku held his ground with self-righteous anger.

How dare he, Izuku thought. How dare he imply that he was the one that had forced everything to fall apart?

“Yours!” the omega suddenly snapped, words hissed out through clenched teeth. “It was your fault! You’re the one that decided one day that you didn’t want to be friends! You’re the one who turned your back on me! Do you know how many days I spent waiting for you? Here? In this—this stupid meadow?”

Izuku scoffed, ignoring the way anger flashed across Katsuki’s expression from the way his voice rose in volume with each passing word.

“Deku…” the alpha’s voice dropped to a low rumble, a warning. Izuku didn’t care.

“You don’t! Know why? Because you left me behind! So don’t—don’t you dare pretend like I’m the one who shut you out!”

“Shut the hell up!” Katsuki’s roar boomed through the clearing, the raging snarl of an alpha in his prime frightening enough to send a small flock of winter pheasants scattering into the sky. “You think you’re so fuckin’ smart, like you know everything! You don’t know shit, Deku. Not about me, not about any of the bullshit that I went through!”

Izuku shuddered—and before he could stop himself, he recoiled. His jaw ticked visibly and as he drew in a slow, stuttering breath, the stink of heady musk nearly choked him. Katsuki’s pheromones were compensating for his sudden outburst, attempting to subdue Izuku, make him smaller, quieter—enough so that the omega wouldn’t dare challenge him again.

“What you went through?” He couldn’t help it; even with his voice small and wavering, Izuku couldn’t help the edge of sarcasm that crept through his words, a bitter and quiet laugh escaping him. “Yeah, I bet it was a real struggle for you. One of the youngest alphas to have presented in our village since War Chief Todoroki, destined for greatness, inducted into the apprenticeship program without hesitation… number one warrior in our current ranks. It has to be so utterly difficult for you.”

Izuku dared to let his angry glare shoot up to level Katsuki despite the way his entire body shook. The animal within his chest whimpered and the soul mark etched into his skin burned violently without warning, like a knife had cut into him. He nearly choked but as he balled his fist up tightly, he refused to let himself choke out the quiet yelp of pain that caught in his throat.

Strangely enough, even Katsuki flinched; his left hand twitched at his side and he grunted, low and quiet, under his breath. He curled his lip and for a moment, red eyes glanced down at his bare wrist with a reproachful look—as if he was scolding his own body for something out of his control.

So he could feel it, too, Izuku realized. Bitter satisfaction filled his chest. At least he wasn’t suffering alone.

It was as if the burn of his soul mark was the reminder Katsuki needed because he started to backpedal. He clenched his hand into a fist at his side and sneered.

“Why the hell are you being so difficult?” He spat the words out as if they were acid. “I know you had that damn dream, too. It’s why the fuck I’m even here. I didn’t show up to listen to your squeaky ass argue with me.”

Izuku almost laughed again. Their coupling was starting to look more and more like a cosmic joke with every passing moment.

Katsuki had the nerve to seek him out—no doubt driven by the sharp, insistent tug of the thread that now wound through their chests—only to berate him, reminding him of all the things that once existed and were now lost.

His chest burned and though his lips twisted with the urge to laugh humorlessly, Izuku found himself falling silent at the reminder of the dream Demeter had left him with. He swallowed thickly and gritted his teeth.

Pine trees and sweet tree sap. Thick and gnarled roots that encompassed him to protect him from the outside world.

As he stared back at the snarling alpha before him, Izuku couldn’t find it in himself to accept that the promise of a soul-bending bond existed between them at all–much less one that held the promise of protecting, of security, of gratification to last him more than one lifetime.

For a moment, Izuku wondered what it was that Katsuki saw in his dream—but instead of asking, he held his head up and scowled.

”You want to know why I’m being difficult?” Izuku couldn’t help the edge of sarcasm that laced through the last word he forced out through his teeth. “It’s because I spent my entire life trying to fly under the radar. I wanted to pave my own way, live a life that I made on my own terms! I never wanted this, forced to mate and tend to some–some–knotheaded alpha with an ego complex!”

Katsuki snarled, his shoulder squaring and teeth bared. The rotted stench of decayed trees gave way to a burning forest once more. Izuku now realized that the stink of scorched wood was the scent of Katsuki’s anger, his rage and his fury.

“You think this is easy for me?” The alpha’s words were low and ragged. “That I wanted to be paired off without a choice? Hah.” He scoffed and took a threatening step forward. Izuku froze–and though the creature stirring in his chest cried out once again, begging him to take a step back, to bow his head and submit, he ignored it.

He didn’t dare back away even as Katsuki took one more step, then another, and another. The distance between them suddenly felt smaller as the alpha stood tall and imposing in the clearing of fresh white snow.

Izuku was shaking, but he stood his ground, watching the other as he drew to a halt, all bared teeth and flexed muscles–a beast poised to pounce on its prey, hungry and ready to devour.

“The last thing I ever wanted,” Katsuki started again, “was for things to go like this.”

It was like Izuku had been slapped. He flinched and a sharp, aching pain skewered through his chest–as if the red thread wound around his heart had squeezed tight enough to leave lacerations in its wake. It cut him from the inside and the shuddering breath he dragged into his lungs burned.

“Oh, yeah?” Izuku hardly registered the fresh, angry tears that rolled down his freckled cheeks. “Then let me be the first to say I’m sorry, Katsuki Bakugou, that you have no choice but to take me as your mate.” His voice shook, splintered and tattered with the pain that bubbled over into his words. “If I had the ability to make sure you never saw me again, I would.”

A menagerie of emotions flashed in the depths of Katsuki’s eyes–all of which came and went far too quickly for Izuku to decipher. His lips twitched and he fell silent, an unreadable look twisting itself upon his sharp features. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. The uncertainty in the set of his jaw lingered for only a heartbeat longer before he bit out a snarl.

“Fuck you, Deku.” The words that dripped from Katsuki’s curled lips were dark and heavy. “I don’t know why I wasted my damn time. Shoulda fuckin’ known you’d be just as useless as always.” Frustration spiked through his words and the acrid scent surrounding him thickened.

Katsuki didn’t bother waiting for Izuku to react. He turned on his heel and by the time the omega blinked, he was gone. The clearing was silent and the snow was marred by the trail of footsteps that only reached Izuku halfway before turning back. The felled branch laying at the meadow’s edge stared mockingly back at him.

Numbness bled through his veins, cold and icy. Its tendrils snaked their way through his insides, weaving through the prongs of his ribcage until his lurching heart went still. Izuku swallowed and a lump left his throat tight.

He couldn’t cry anymore; his earlier tears left his freckled cheeks streaked and ruddy and every breath the omega tried to drag into his chest burned. It felt like a dozen knives were scraping down his throat to leave his broken, frustrated shouts bloody and hoarse.

As he slowly sank to his knees, Izuku’s soul mark burned.

He wondered if Katsuki’s did, too.

Chapter Text

He fucked up.

He irrefutably, undeniably fucked up.

The bone-deep frustration rolling through his insides left Katsuki’s stomach clenched and bile crawling up his throat. His skin felt too tight and his rapidly-building rage threatened to split him apart at the seams–until it spilled over and he scorched the world around him into nothing but ashes and cinders.

Every stomp of his heavy boots against the snow-coated floor was heavy enough to leave the thick trunks of the trees shuddering in fear. Hollow branches quivered and the wind rushing through them lamented quietly in kind. The world around him was silent and afraid with nothing but the sound of his own crackling frustration to fill the air.

As the blood roaring in his ears dulled, Katsuki finally registered the ragged edge of his own growls. A deep, guttural rumble that vibrated from the very center of his chest–the sound was every bit as feral as the wolf buried within him.

Katsuki swallowed back a groan as his gums ached with dull throbs. His alpha fangs threatened to extend and the more he fought against it, the stronger the pain became.

The sound of Izuku’s strained shouts played in an endless loop in his head and every time Katsuki heard the way his voice cracked over the word mate, his mouth began to taste foul and bitter.

Izuku had said it as if it were a curse, a death sentence.

Because of you, his alpha growled.

With raised hackles, its snapping jaws spattered saliva with every rumbling snarl.

Failed, again. Always failing.

Katsuki wished it would shut the hell up, that it would fall silent and never bother him again.

Will never earn omega’s trust.

He swore something was coiled around his heart, constricting tighter and tighter with every passing second. A pain as sharp as the kiss of a blade sliced through his chest.

Will never make omega feel safe.

“Shut up, dammit!”

The explosive echo of his roar sent a flock of winter pheasants fleeing. Scattered wings and startled bleats filled the air as Katsuki stood there, doubled over, with his hands braced on his knees and his spine curved like a cornered animal.

A boy against his beast–a fight he’d been losing since the day of his presentation. He’d only ever mastered the art of masking its rageful snarls under a fragile veneer of detachment, but never the ability to lock it away in its entirety.

Obsessive diligence and borderline torturous suppression of his true nature–it took Katsuki years to find the perfect balance between harnessing the raw, unbridled power his secondary nature granted him without unleashing the ferocity of a beast untamed. By then, it had been too late and the bridges he should’ve nurtured had been reduced to nothing but ash.

Every reminder of his failures made something inside of him wither. The collateral damage of his inability to wrestle his nature mocked him, a testament to his inability to be anywhere near as great as the world expected him to be.

Now, he was forced to face the wreckage of the boy he had tried so hard to stay away from. It was sudden and daunting, a whirlwind of incomprehensible feelings welling up inside of him.

For years, his alpha yearned for nothing more than to reach out for the omega that it had chosen all that time ago–but as Izuku glared at him with the burning intensity of a prey animal that would bare its teeth despite its obvious weakness, something inside of him snapped.

And he fucked it all up.

Ragged gasps left his chest burning as his teeth gritted together, alpha fangs snapping with an audible clack. There was no one else with him, but Katsuki couldn’t help the way his throat grew raw and hoarse from the intensity of his shout. As his lips parted, he croaked out a splintering rasp.

“Just… shut up. I know. Fuck, I know. Just shut up.” He cursed himself until his voice wavered and his breaths shook. Katsuki wasn’t sure how long he stood like that, doubled over as the air soured around him.

He stayed that way for a long moment, lungs burning with every shuddering breath he dragged into his lungs. Katsuki nearly choked on the rancid stench of his own pheromones, as acrid and pungent as the frustration pent up within him.

Suddenly, cutting through the haze of a musky pine forest set ablaze was the familiar but commanding scent of leather and spiced cloves.

Katsuki’s body went rigid with the first inhale. He didn’t need to look up to know who the deep, steady murmur that soon followed belonged to.

“Young Bakugou.” Boots crunched through the snow loudly enough to interrupt the sound of Katsuki’s ragged breaths. “It’s been quite some time.”

He gritted his teeth and before he could stop himself, the young alpha jerked himself up to stand tall at his full height.

Most of the villagers of Musutafu were quick to prostrate themselves before the former War Chief, feverish with their admiration for the alpha that so valiantly protected them for what felt like an endless era–and though the blonde was one of the many young pups that had looked up to the alpha with wide-eyed amazement, the sheer determination within Katsuki refused to allow him to bow to anyone.

He did, however, slowly sink to one knee the moment crimson hues locked onto the piercing blue of Toshinori’s gaze from within the harsh shadows cast over his gaunt features. Katsuki bowed his head by a fraction, just enough to study the older alpha through his pale lashes with pensive resolve.

“Chief Yagi.” Katsuki’s greeting was stiff, a quiet breath ground out through clenched teeth.

Toshinori lifted a hand of surrender, as if to wave off the gesture out of modesty. “Toshinori,” he corrected, his voice as steady and calm as the unrelenting mountains shielding Musutafu under its shadow. “There’s no need for the formalities.”

Katsuki gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, tonguing silently at an incisor as he dropped his gaze. Warmth itched beneath his skin as he realized belatedly that, surely, the former War Chief had heard the bellowing echoes of his impudent outburst. The stench of burning wood

heightened, daring to overpower the leather and clove hanging in the air.

He was many things–proud and arrogant, boisterous and volatile–but one thing Katsuki refused to do was wallow in self-pity. Though his ears burned hot with embarrassment, he refused to let it show. His jaw ticked as he lifted his head up from where he kneeled to let his sharp gaze rake over the other alpha.

“You’re far from home,” Katsuki observed in lieu of an acknowledgement. He eyed Toshinori suspiciously, brows pinching together until a crease formed between them.

It was common knowledge among the villagers that in his retirement years, the former War Chief had taken to Inko Midoriya. The unassuming beta was quiet and unremarkable save for her oddly well-manicured connections. She worked an honest living as a teamaker for many years–which was how she had struck a friendship with Katsuki’s sire.

Mitsuki often relied on a particularly strong blend of herbs that Inko had a knack for curating to soothe the aches and pains of her joints after a long day of chopping wood and hauling it all back to the village–but after a quiet and understated courtship, Toshinori ensured that Inko needn’t work her hands to the bone to ensure there was a roof over her head and a warm bed for Inko’s only pup to lay in.

Word of Toshinori and Inko’s union was just another source of Katsuki’s neverending ire with the very pup that had now become his greatest challenge. The legendary warrior that Katsuki had so desperately looked up to had seamlessly found a place within Izuku Midoriya’s life as both a mentor and a father-figure. Without even trying, Izuku had the alpha that they had both aspired to emulate as a source of both endless support and advice.

The hut the Midoriyas called home was to the east of the meadow that he had stomped away from and the path that Katsuki and Toshinori found themselves crossing at was the winding, roundabout route spanning the western outskirts of the village.

The only reason one would bother taking such an arduous journey around Musutafu’s perimeter would be to…

“I had news to relay to Chief Todoroki,” Toshinori amended, his words hanging heavily in the air between them.

Ah.

Toshinori didn’t need to elaborate for Katsuki to know what said news referred to. He swallowed back the rock that had somehow found itself lodged in his throat as his eyes narrowed. As Katsuki drew himself back by a fraction of an inch, as if recoiling from the other alpha, he began to feel the remaining dregs of his frustration flare back to life.

His left wrist twinged with a sudden sting, sharp and persistent.

Katsuki flexed his fingers instinctively, teeth gritted together in an attempt at quelling the quiet growl rumbling in his chest. He could feel Toshinori’s gaze follow his movements and the alpha inside of him bristled defensively.

“So?” Katsuki blurted out without thinking, his voice faltering ever so slightly despite its gravelling edge. The hand braced at his knee curled, grip flexing until his tendons strained. “You know, don’t you?”

“Don’t I know what, Young Bakugou?”

The endless patience in Toshinori’s humble murmur stoked at the embers of his guilt. He couldn’t help the growl that ground itself out through his clenched teeth.

Don’t you know it’s me? Don’t you know I’ve already fucked this up before it even began? Don’t you know I was just as weak as I told you I was?

A heavy silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. The snow melting under his bent knee began to seep through the thick, woolen material of his trousers but Katsuki hardly noticed. When he spoke again, his voice dropped to a hushed but ragged whisper.

“Don’t you know there’s no way in hell that this is gonna work?” There was a heaviness lingering in Katsuki’s words. “After everything I did to him. Now this.” He couldn’t help the humorless scoff that escaped him. “I fucked it up before all this bullshit with this damned festival,” he spat out the last word with more venom than he intended.

The delicate red fiber stitched through his flesh pulled sharply and the alpha had to grit his teeth to stifle a pained hiss. He flexed his fingers and curled his lips–but before he could curse the goddess that seemed to take sadistic enjoyment in his misery, Toshinori cleared his throat.

“It’s never too late to try. I’ve always told you that.” The older alpha’s steady rumble took on a meaningful edge. “Even when you got frustrated as an apprentice, when you couldn’t master a move with perfection on the first go… I reminded you to try, over and over again. Even if it felt hopeless.”

Katsuki flinched. “That was different,” he hissed, red eyes burning despite the way his words splintered. “Learning how to fight ain’t the same as… this.”

“How so?” The endless patience in Toshinori’s voice made the sharp twinge against his skin burn hotter, like a match had been put to the thread, setting its fibers ablaze.

He gritted his teeth in a weak attempt at quelling the ragged snarl caged within his chest.

“It just is,” Katsuki snapped. His voice was raw and heavy, laced with the reverberating edge of his lingering frustrations. “When you took me in as an apprentice, learnin’ to beat the shit out of a training dummy didn’t have any fuckin’ consequences. I could beat those straw dolls to hell and back. I could cut ‘em up with a sword or skewer them with all the arrows I had on hand–but they were still just a bunch of fuckin’ dummies. They weren’t people. They didn’t get up and fight back!”

Tongue passed over his teeth, prodding at one of his canines and tracing its tapered point as his brows pinched together. Not even the heavy scent of worn leather and spiced cloves could drown out the miasma of Katsuki’s pheromones. The air was cold and silent, still sharp with the winter’s unforgiving edge–but with every lunch the young alpha dragged into his lungs, all he could taste was burning wood and ash. He was certain Toshinori could smell it, too.

“But–fuckin’ Deku.” A snarl ripped from deep within him without warning; the alpha within him reared its head at the mention of the omega, thrashing and bucking until a shudder crawled up Katsuki’s spine. He swallowed back the bile threatening to crawl its way up his throat before he could wretch, jaw flexing with an audible crack all the while. “Fuckin’ Deku can. All he ever does is get up and keep fighting, even if he knows that a damn small fry like him can’t win!”

Katsuki wasn’t sure when his voice had risen to a bitter roar, a fractured bellow that buckled under the weight of his own frustration. He was standing again, too, with both hands fisted at his sides, trembling all the while. His teeth snapped together audibly as he clenched them together, the muscle in his jaw jumping visibly.

When he met Toshinori’s gaze, he felt his chest tighten–as if the thread that now tethered him to another had wound itself through every last vein and artery webbing around his heart. As Katsuki parted his mouth to speak once more, his voice dropped to a strained rumble.

“Whenever I try, I fuck it up. It’s been that way for years.” His mouth tasted of ichor and iron. Belatedly, Katsuki realized he had bitten the inside of his cheek bloody. His alpha howled again–in despair, in defeat, in resentment.

“Every time I talk to him again, no matter how long it's been, I know he still remembers. So yeah, it’s fuckin’ different. Those training dummies didn’t remember all my fuck ups. But Deku does. How the hell am I supposed to make it work when all I’ve ever done is try to make sure he never fucking comes near me again?” Katsuki can only hope the former War Chief doesn’t notice the desperation behind burning rubies or the ghost of a plea coloring his words.

Toshinori's brows knitted together until the shadows cast over his blue hues darkened. When their gazes lock, he exhaled a knowing sigh.

“All that anger you’ve been pinning on him,” Toshinori started, “it’s been to keep him away from you on purpose.”

It was an observation, not a question. Katsuki flinched, as if Toshinori had slapped him across the face. His skin burned, hotter and hotter in a way that left him uncomfortable and seething. He dropped his gaze, tongue passing over his teeth with a thinly-veiled growl in lieu of an answer.

No, a part of Katsuki wanted to say. It wasn’t on purpose.

Why would he ever want this? The misery, the guilt, the earth-shattering rage of his secondary nature simmering just beneath the surface?

He was just that much of a fuck up. He’d always be like this–a dog that only knew how to bite and nothing more. Ravenous and selfish, destructive and volatile. Deku was proof of it, proof of everything Katsuki failed to be despite the lofty expectations the village had thrust upon him.

Legends and myths passed from generation to generation waxed poetic words about alphas who protected entire kingdoms and nations–soldiers that protected what they believed in with unimaginable strength. The stories diverged from person to person–but there was always one single fact that tethered them all together.

Those destined for greatness and power were connected to their secondary nature so strongly that they presented with it far before others. It was a rare phenomenon–one that had become a superstitious marker of prosperity and greatness. Katsuki had been told he would become the strongest alpha the world had seen before he had learned what it meant to be an alpha at all.

He had burned his bridges and left the damage to linger, open wounds that he had allowed to fester until rot took hold, decaying what could have once been.

At first, he truly, wholeheartedly believed he hated Izuku Midoriya.

The sight of him made him want to wretch every single day following his presentation. Large, watery eyes made the beast inside of him shudder–and even as puphood grew into adolescence, the familiar twist in his stomach left Katsuki snarling any time the green-haired boy dared to approach him.

I hate you, Katsuki thought to himself. I hate every single thing about you.

Except it wasn’t hate. When he finally grew old enough, mature enough to decipher the garbled snarls and roars of his alpha, Katsuki understood what the bone-deep sickness that settled over him whenever he and Izuku looked at one another meant. It wasn’t hate, but something else entirely.

Something he couldn’t bear to admit to himself. Something he knew would do nothing but hold him back if he dared to fathom it, at all.

By the time Katsuki opened his eyes to what stood before him, it was too late.

Izuku’s eyes, once so full of joy and warmth when gazing upon him, had turned hard and guarded, jagged pieces of broken jade that pinned him everywhere he went.

His alpha grew distressed and violent the more he allowed himself to be in his presence, surges of rage that crushed his chest leaving him with shaking fists and bared teeth and his hair-trigger temper only worsened. It was as if his alpha was punishing him, reminding him that it was the beast that ruled him and not the other way around.

Staying away from him was all he could do to keep himself from splitting apart at the seams–and before he knew it, the void that had slowly started to bloom between them had become seemingly endless.

“Does it matter,” he finally forced out. Katsuki’s words were little more than a worn-out rasp, heavy and fractured. The blonde didn’t dare look up, unable to meet the gaze searching Katsuki’s expression as he fought to hide the way his shoulders trembled and his flexed fists shook at his sides. “All I fuckin’ know is this is all bullshit. This won’t work. Not for him and especially not for me.”

Toshinori breathed out a deep exhale, a sigh colored with his endless patience. “Perhaps you’re right,” he began again, his quiet rumble deliberate and cautious. “But you might also be wrong. There’s no certainty in anything, Young Bakugou. If you don’t try, you’ll never find out.”

The stench of burning trees abated, thinning until the acrid scent dissolved completely. In its place, rotted wood and decay filled their noses. Katsuki’s anger was replaced by a stomach-wrenching feeling that left his insides seizing together–guilt.

“I already did.” The words tasted bitter on Katsuki’s tongue. “And just as I expected, I fucked it up.”

The silence that stretched between them was deafening.

If Toshinori crossed the space between them and struck him hard enough to leave his mouth bloody, Katsuki would have accepted it. His words didn’t need elaboration for the implication to be painfully obvious–that even with Demeter’s blessing, all Katsuki did was ruin Izuku.

Izuku, the boy that Toshinori cared for as if he were his own pup. Izuku, who only ever looked at him with either fear or disgust in his eyes. Izuku, the omega he had rejected before he had even given him a chance.

If the beloved War Chief wanted to teach Katsuki a lesson for leaving his pup with tears in his eyes, he would have taken it without complaint. He’d grit his teeth and take it–but as his eyes squeezed shut and his tongue pressed along the inside of his teeth, nothing came. His cheek didn’t burn and his mouth didn’t taste of iron.

Katsuki inhaled shakily, eyes slowly opening before his burning ruby gaze lifted to meet steady blues.

“Didn’t you hear me?” He gritted out, frustration simmering through his words. “I said I fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad he started fuckin’ crying. He’s always crying, it drives me fucking insane! But I still do it anyway.” Bitter, rancid words were spat out and sneered over. A crooked smile split across angular features, a gesture that was far from warm and kind.

“He’s your favorite, isn’t he? I was just some stupid apprentice you spent a few pity lessons on. But Deku. You care about him.” He almost sounded resentful, but buried under his shuddering growls was something pained and wounded. “So why the hell don’t you ever do anything about it?”

Katsuki didn’t realize how his hoarse whisper had grown into a splintered shout, fragments of ragged snarls echoing through the air around them. His words hung heavily between him and Toshinori–and as the young alpha dragged in a breath, he felt his chest stutter.

“If you hit me, it would make sense. An alpha protects their pups. It’s in our natures,” he croaked out, his words sounding bitter as he admitted to the truth of his inner wolf. “But you don’t. You saw, I know you did! You’ve seen what I’ve done to him, but you never say anything. Even though you should.” Katsuki swallowed audibly. “Even though I deserve it.”

“There’s no need for me to punish you,” Toshinori murmured, “when you’re doing it all on your own, Young Bakugou.”

The pity in his baritone timbre left Katsuki hissing. He recoiled as if he had been hit, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Tch,” he gritted out, gaze dropping out of reflex. “I hate it when you talk in riddles.”

Toshinori chuckled at Katsuki’s sudden petulance. “I’m being rather straightforward, actually…” He paused, studying the younger alpha with a pensive expression. Katsuki dared to spare a fleeting glance over at the other man, watching as the shadows cast over his shallow features deepened ever so slightly.

“All I am trying to tell you is that I see no reason in pointing out your mistakes when you already seem to know them.” There was a knowing air hanging over his statement, cautious and meaningful. “Rather than dwelling on your errors and agonizing over what’s been done, what you need to do is face your challenges head on. The more you run from them, the more impossible the task grows.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, shooting Toshinori a strange look. The words the former Chief just said were even more cryptic than his initial statement and Katsuki found himself conflicted. His lip twitched and he squared his shoulder, daring to hold Toshinori’s gaze once more.

A part of him wanted to ask him what the hell he meant, but the sky above was starting to brighten with each passing moment. Before long, the call of dawn would succumb to the glow of late morning.

He chewed on his tongue, ignoring the way his canines pricked at the muscle and iron settled over his palate.

Katsuki gave a sniff and held his head high, chin jutting out and his jaw set. Despite the way his chest ached and his insides twisted with the chaotic maelstrom of emotions swelling inside of him, he searched Toshinori’s expression intensely and unrelentingly. When he spoke, Katsuki posed a reluctant question.

“If you were in this position,” Katsuki ventured slowly, his words low and cautious, “how the hell would you go about this?”

Toshinori breathed out a drawn-out sigh. “I’m not the source of all your answers,” he deflected coolly.

Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Then what was the point of this conversation?” The frustration inside of him flared suddenly, a rush of brittle pine clouding around him. His fingers flexed at his side as he fought the urge to bite out an ill-tempered growl. “Why tell me all of this if you won’t spit out what you actually mean?”

“The point of this conversation is whatever you make of it, Young Bakugou,” Toshinori chided, his voice oddly gentle.

Katsuki’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, red hues following Toshinori’s movements as he watched the older alpha start towards him. He came to a pause when he was at Katsuki’s side, a spindly hand that had grown thin over the years found purchase against a broad shoulder. He gave it a small squeeze, as comforting as he could manage. “Just know this–when you can learn to accept what’s in front of you, things you didn’t understand before will become clear.”

As Katsuki swallowed, his mouth felt dry and cracked. He didn’t say anything else, left with far more questions than he did answers despite the gravity of Toshinori’s knowing rumble. The younger alpha stood deathly still, statuesque and rigid, until the hand resting at his shoulder slipped away.

He waited, listening to the sound of slow footsteps crunching in the snow, growing quieter and quieter until they faded into the distance entirely. When the silence settled over him once more, Katsuki felt numbness seep through him all over again.

One hand reached to scratch blunt nails along the inside of his wrist as Toshinori’s musings weighed upon him. His head felt heavy and full of cotton, muscles stiff and his bones aching.

Nothing made sense anymore–and though the uncontrollable anger that had consumed him like a wildfire earlier had finally simmered away, the gaping emptiness that had opened up inside of him in its stead made him feel inexplicably worse.

With every step forward, Katsuki realized bitterly, he found himself stumbling three steps back.

Chapter Text

Izuku woke to gentle fingers carding through wild green curls, careful and insistent. They rubbed small, comforting circles against his scalp–and with each passing moment, the omega felt the subdued rattle of a purr catching in his throat.

“You’re awake.” A voice as silken as the touch cradling the back of his head tickled his forehead, stirring a stray curl. “Oh, thank goodness. You had me worried, Izuku.”

As bleary green eyes hung heavy-lidded, straining against the warm glow of the high-noon sun, Izuku was just barely able to make out the familiar outline of a concerned looking Shoto Todoroki.

Manicured brows pinched together to form the smallest of creases against his forehead, the only blemish upon an otherwise lovely face. His bi-colored gaze searched Izuku’s face, as if looking for any signs of injury or distress. The steady thrum of a fresh purr vibrated through Izuku as Shoto returned to gently rubbing his scalp.

“Shoto,” the green-haired omega mumbled, his voice quiet and heavy with grogginess. “How… long have I been out?”

Shoto exhaled a quiet sigh through his nose. The familiar scent of fresh sprigs of springtime lavender that Izuku had long-since learned to associate with his friend soured.

“Nearly two hours,” Shoto murmured, steady monotone wavering ever so slightly. “Ochaco was starting to worry that we needed to fetch a healer for you.”

It was Izuku’s turn to furrow his brow. His mind was still heavy and addled with sleep–even though it had been restless at best, a shallow illusion of a proper slumber. The fact that he had been out for that long without a lick of relaxation or refreshment to show for it left Izuku disconcerted.

“It doesn’t feel like I slept that long,” Izuku complained before he used his knuckles to rub at his bleary eyes. Izuku made a face as his tongue passed over semi-cracked lips. His mouth felt dry, as if he had stuffed it full of cotton and sawdust, and his throat stuck to itself when he tried to swallow. “Urgh, on second thought, maybe I didn’t sleep long enough…”

Even as Izuku pushed himself up into a sitting position, both hands pressed flat against the smooth, wooden floor beneath, Shoto reached forward to brush his curls out of his face with care. He offered a small hum of agreement–and though the subtle pinch in his expression hadn’t faltered, his lips were no longer quirked downwards at the corner.

“I’m sure the fact that you barely slept last night didn’t help,” Shoto amended, “but you had worked yourself up so much that you passed out.” A fracture of concern returned to his gentle lilt.

Izuku pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, wide green eyes dropping down to his lap as he let his mind reel itself back to the moments prior to his submission to exhaustion.

His recollection of the morning came in small fragments; Izuku remembered the stinging heat of tears in his eyes and the thick, musky scent of burning pine that belonged to Katsuki choking him from the inside out. He remembered how his knees had buckled and his chest felt as if it was caving in on itself.

Izuku’s body had started to move on its own after that; he ran and he ran, leaving the meadow as far behind him as he could manage–all until his trembling footsteps forced him to stumble upon the porch laid out before the large, imposing facade of the Todoroki Estate.

He wasn’t sure what had led him there but as his chest squeezed tight and his heart hammered frantically against his ribcage, all Izuku could think was that he needed his friend.

Shoto, the friend he wanted to support if it was the last thing he could do. Shoto, the friend who stood dutifully at his side even when others chided him for keeping ruffians for company. Shoto, who believed in Izuku when he couldn’t believe in himself.

Shoto–the friend who’s promising future he had so thoughtlessly snatched away.

Perhaps it was the stench of wilted flowers mingled with a rotted honeycomb, left to ferment in the hot summer sun, that alerted the youngest Todoroki heir to his presence. Or, perhaps it was the sudden feeling of distress that spiked through the air the moment Izuku stumbled upon their property, green eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

As the other omega stumbled into the entryway, thin fingers had curled into a thick wooden beam, Izuku could see that Shoto, too, had been crying. His expression held red-rimmed, bi-colored eyes that reflected a certain level of melancholy, colored with disappointment. As if Shoto was worried that he had failed the legacy his father had so painstakingly crafted for him through all these years. A failure to the esteemed Todoroki name.

Their gazes met–and though Izuku would have taken every ounce, every last drop of Shoto’s ire if he were to lash out at him in anger and frustration, he found his breath catching in his throat when familiar eyes of blue and gray widened not with anger, but with relief.

They had held each other and wept. Shoto took him inside and they curled together upon the embroidered throw pillows of the mud room, noses buried into one another’s neck.

Izuku rarely allowed himself to succumb to the pull of his omega’s needs; it always made him feel spineless, like he lacked control over his sense of self. He wanted to be valiant and brave–not defenseless and needy.

But with Shoto, things always felt easier, organic. As they curled into one another, noses pressed to the other’s scent glands, the hiccuping stutter of their dry sobs faded. They were replaced instead by soft, hesitant purrs of relief, of comfort.

Soured scents mellowed until fresh lavender and clean linens mingled with sweet honey and wildflowers–and as their easing pheromones allowed both omegas to calm down together, they clasped their hands and exhaled a shaky sigh in unison.

It was then that Izuku bared his left wrist to Shoto with a dropped gaze and a wobbling lower lip.

Shoto was, as always, gentle with how his fingertips grazed over the angry red Taurus constellation stitched against his skin.

Izuku didn’t cry despite the way his chest ached. Shoto didn’t look directly up at him but the green-haired omega could see the quiet sadness hidden behind his pale lashes as he traced each line and point of his soul mark.

I’m sorry, Izuku whispered at some point. I’m so sorry.

Shoto asked him why he was so sorry when it was clear that he had already punished himself for Demeter’s decisions—and when Izuku’s mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide, he found himself at a loss for words.

For taking away what should have been yours, Izuku wanted to say. For being so unworthy of all the things that were meant for you, not me.

As Shoto’s bi-colored gaze rested upon him, searching the sadness and regret etched into his features, the other omega exhaled a soft sigh and pressed his forehead to Izuku’s.

”Friends don’t turn their backs on each other for things out of their control,” the other omega murmured as his eyes slipped shut. The quiet earnestness behind Shoto’s voice soothed the turmoil clawing through Izuku’s ribcage, stilling his racing thoughts. Shoto had lifted a hand enough to let the tips of his fingers brush a few of Izuku’s sweat-drenched curls from his forehead, opening his eyes to search his expression all the while.

“I was upset at first, but… when you showed up at our doorstep looking the way that you did…” Shoto’s brows pinched together—and though his expression shifted only marginally, Izuku could see the conflicted glitter lingering in odd-eyed depths. “You needed me more than I needed to be the one chosen,” he finally rationalized, the softest hint of a croon coloring his words.

That was the last thing Izuku remembered before he curled into Shoto with his head tucked against the boy’s shoulder. Izuku shuddered and let his exhaustion drag him beneath the blackened currents of a restless sleep at last.

Izuku couldn’t help the way his lip wobbled as he recalled the blur of events that had led him to the Todoroki estate before the light of dawn had the chance to fade into the glowing hours of late morning. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and his scent soured as he ducked his head, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

”I’m sorry about that.” Izuku knew he had already apologized more times than necessary by now, but he couldn’t help the inkling of guilt that continued to needle its way through him. “I should’ve just gone home instead of worrying you and—wait, did you say Ochaco was here, too?”

Shoto breathed out a quiet laugh as Izuku’s head shot up, green eyes stretched wide as his words finally began to sink in. “I had Hawks summon her after you came in here and ended up passing out,” he amended gently, leaning close enough to let their foreheads bonk together once more.

“She brought Tenya, too.” There was a pause and Shoto cleared his throat, casting Izuku a look of understanding sympathy. “I told them… about your soulmark. They both understood right away and let you sleep it off. After a while, Ochaco was starting to worry that you might be ill. You mutter a lot in your sleep, you know.”

The sour edge to Izuku’s scent deepened. “Oh. I… at least hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing…” His cheeks felt hot all of a sudden and the weight of Shoto’s gaze watching his movements only served to deepen the shame clinging to him.

As if he could sense the omega’s discomfort, Shoto reached to take Izuku’s hand in his own and squeezed it tightly. It wasn’t firm or painful, but steadying—a reminder that no matter what, Shoto was a person Izuku could exist around without consequence, without anxiety.

”I couldn’t make out a lot of it, but you sounded scared,” Shoto offered, his voice soft and tender. “You kept saying you were lost. And something about… trees?” He tilted his head to the side out of curiosity, locks of red hair mingling with the shock of white. “It must’ve been quite the dream… I tried telling Ochaco you just needed to rest, but she took Tenya and went off to find a healer to get a few herbs to keep you calm until tonight. They should be back soon.”

Izuku couldn’t help but heave a deep sigh, head hanging until he could rest his forehead to Shoto’s shoulder. At least this way, he didn’t have to look into Shoto’s eyes and admit that scared didn’t quite encompass the gravity and weight of the feelings swirling within him.

“Before you apologize again,” Shoto chided, one hand lifting to delicately work through wild green curls and massage against his scalp, “we all want to be here for you.”

The laugh that escaped Izuku was quiet and humorless, hanging heavy at his lips with a melancholy so deep it ached in his bones. “Thank you,” he croaked, words fracturing under the way his voice wavered. “For… everything. For not hating me, for letting me get some sleep, for taking care of me…”

”Izuku.” Shoto’s hands were warm and his fingers soft as they moved to cradle Izuku’s face, slowly guiding his head up so that green eyes, glassy with unshed tears, could meet his bi-colored gaze. “You always help me. Let me return the favor every once in a while, too.”

This time, when Izuku cried, it was with a gratitude so big he was certain it was leaking out of him. He hiccuped and choked before the first sob wracked his body, shoulders hunching as he buried his face into the crook of Shoto’s neck. The familiar scent of fresh lavender washed over him as Shoto’s arms wrapped around Izuku’s middle section to keep him close.

“I’ve got you,” Shoto cooed, nuzzling into the crown of Izuku’s green curls. “Ochaco, Tenya, all of us. I know this is probably really scary, but we’ll get through this…”

”Yeah,” Izuku choked out, his voice little more than a tight rasp as he sniffed. “Yeah, we’ll get through this.” He still didn’t quite believe in his own words—but for the first time since Demeter had thrown him into the deep, endless void, the hopelessness that had left Izuku drowning began to abate little by little.

Shoto hummed, smoothing out Izuku’s hair before he exhaled a sigh. There was a pause, quiet but understanding, as Izuku quelled his shuddering breaths and dried his tears.

When Izuku’s breathing finally regulated, he pulled himself back up. The omega folded his knees under him and shifted with a tired-sounding sigh. Hanging over his shoulders was a cloak made of material far nicer than anything Izuku or his mother could afford—thick and fashioned from velvet with metallic embroidery along the collar—that Shoto must have fetched to keep him warm during his impromptu nap.

Calloused fingers clasped at the hem of the fabric, pulling it closer to hug it around himself, snuggling into its warmth as he sorted through his thoughts. Shoto relaxed at his side, seemingly pleased that Izuku felt well enough to move about freely.

Izuku tilted his head and squinted as the warm, golden glow of sunlight filtered through the large window of the mudroom. “When did Ochaco and Tenya leave?” The question was nearly swallowed up by a large, heaving yawn that left Izuku’s eyes tearing up all over again. He rolled his shoulders, unraveling the stiffness that had coiled into his muscles from how he had curled up in Shoto’s lap.

Shoto hummed. “They should be back any minute now—“

”Shoto! Did Izuku wake up yet?”

”We come with remedies in hand!”

The warm scent of roasted hazelnuts mingled with the sharp, clean tang of fresh peppermint pulled Izuku’s attention away from Shoto—who merely sighed and carded a hand through his hair.

“Speak of the devil and they shall appear,” the other omega mused thoughtfully as a small smile tugged at his lips, demure expression shifting into something soft and fond. Craning his head just enough to lean closer to the large entry to the mudroom, Shoto called out, “Ochaco, Tenya, we’re over here. Izuku’s awake but try not to yell too loudly. He’s still tired.”

Only moments later, a head of brown hair popped its way in with Tenya in tow. Ochaco held a small burlap sack that seemed to be stuffed full of miscellaneous herbs while Tenya toted an assortment of small glass vials tucked away in a cloth bag slung around his shoulder.

Shoto hadn’t been kidding when he told Izuku that their friends had taken the initiative to find something, anything, that would keep the omega from falling victim to his own anxieties. Izuku felt his chest grow warm with gratitude, spreading through him until it felt as if the sun had made a home inside of him.

“He’s awake?” Despite the excitement lingering in her warm cadence, Ochaco couldn’t help the concern lingering in her words. As she adjusted the burlap sack against her chest, her eyes lit up the moment they found Izuku’s face. She beamed at him, mouth curled wide as Izuku chirped a gentle greeting up at her.

“Oh, Izuku! Thank goodness!” The burlap sack hit the sleek wooden floor of the mudroom with a dull thunk. Warm hands cradled freckled cheeks as Ochaco dropped to her knees at Shoto and Izuku’s side, thumbs rubbing soft and comforting circles against his skin. As her face came into his field of vision, Izuku felt himself relax as kind brown eyes searched his expression.

A small smile tugged at her lips, one of relief, and a ghost of a boneless sigh escaped her as she started again. “You look better already… We were worried.” The pads of Ocacho’s fingers traced the curve of a freckled cheek and as she cupped his face in full, Izuku found himself relaxing.

The omega purred as his eyelids drooped, growing lax and pliant under the gentle way Ochaco’s fingers drifted to card through his curls, massaging his scalp much like Shoto had been doing only moments earlier.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Izuku mumbled over a yawn, reaching up to rub the tears collecting at his lashes with his knuckles. “Shoto let me sleep it off, though, and I already feel a lot better…”

”That’s all well and good, but Ochaco and I were not convinced that a simple nap would relieve you of your ailments!” Tenya shouldered his way into the room, chest puffed and his head held high as his words boomed through the air of the mudroom.

As Izuku peered up at him through eyes that were left heavy-lidded with fatigue, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I can see that,” he purred in amusement, watching as the broad-chested alpha paused to adjust the strap of the canvas hanging from his shoulder. He craned his neck enough to peer curiously at the assortment of vials clinking together as Tenya rummaged through them. “What exactly did you bring me?”

Steady hands plucked each ampule with care, arranging them in a neat line on the floor. “Four different strengths of a valerian root tincture,” Tenya asserted once he was certain that none of the vials would suddenly come uncorked and spill its carefully-brewed contents. “The apothecarist told us to taper you up to avoid–”

“--excess sedation,” Izuku concluded with a breathy laugh. “Of course, that makes sense. Thank you for going through the trouble of getting that for me… it couldn’t have been cheap.” The initial warmth that had rested upon Izuku’s expression flickered away as his brows knitted together in concern, lower lip wobbling as reality settled over him. “Brewing a tincture is a time-consuming process… If the apothecarist was able to spare an entire vial of multiple strengths, then…”

A hand found Izuku’s hand—and as Shoto’s delicate fingers intertwined with Izuku’s scarred and calloused ones, he gave his hand a firm but reassuring squeeze.

“Izuku,” Shoto chided once more, his steady murmur forcing Izuku to blink wide green eyes owlishly over at the other omega, “stop worrying, okay? My father has more gold than sense, he won’t notice one small sack of coin missing from the vault.”

The good-natured snort that punctuated Shoto’s words was enough to pull the smallest of laughs out from Izuku. The green-haired omega wasn't afforded a chance to protest as Ochaco scooted closer, her own knees pulled up to her chest while warm hands moved to rub gently along the tensed muscles of Izuku’s shoulders.

”Besides,” Ochaco pressed, a kind smile tugging at her lips, “Aizawa-sensei said he owed you a favor.”

”He—what?” Izuku sputtered. “Owed me... a favor?” The tremoring disbelief lingering in his voice was enough to cause Shoto to exhale a breath of a giggle.

Tenya hummed in consideration. “He mentioned that it was about time you got some rest after all of your extra assistance earlier this season,” the alpha pressed, words leaving him with both thought and care.

“Yup!” Ochaco chirped before she bobbed her head in a pleased nod, silken brown locks fluttering at her shoulders with every movement. When her lips curled into another wide smile, soft pink cheeks became fuller and softer. “He didn’t really specify, but I’m guessing it’s because you helped him double his stock of herbs before that bout of greencough that had the village petrified at the start of winter…”

A soft hum escaped Izuku’s lips, brows pinching together as he considered Ochaco’s words. Green eyes followed the movements of the beta’s hands, watching as she unfurled the burlap sack before her and began to pluck out a variety of stems and dried flowers, bundled together and cinched with a delicate thread of twine. As she arranged them before him in the same fashion Tenya did with his vials, Izuku found himself mumbling under his breath.

Winter was always a difficult time for Musutafu; the shadows cast by the treacherous mountain that surrounded the village left their region dry and brittle during summers—but the moment the first chill of leafbare settled through the dense forest that fringed the foot of the cliff sides, the people of his village had no choice but to hold their breath and wait.

Some speculated that the festival held in Demeter’s name was first established as a way to distract the village people from the horrors that often followed at winter’s heels—a welcome reprieve from the sickness and the dwindling game that often left a pit of dread in one’s stomach.

Those who tended to Demeter’s temple up on the rocky ledges of the mountain, however, were quick to silence those who dared to imply that the solstice festival was anything less than a divine sacrament. Heresy didn’t sit well with those most in tune with the divine—and though the people of Musutafu weren’t barbaric enough to indulge in executions, the idea of becoming a social pariah that denounced Demeter’s kindness and virtue was far from desirable.

Despite Demeter’s watchful gaze over Her people, sickness was inevitable as winter made itself known. It was a reality Izuku had watched unfold year after year; there were always victims that succumbed to the cough that often took root in both the young and the old.

In the months following his refusal to participate in the apprenticeship assessment, Izuku had buried himself away in the makeshift garden he had started to tend to behind his hut. His plants didn’t judge him nor did they gaze at him with disappointment and regret—two things he was far too afraid to see in Toshinori’s eyes. He avoided the former war chief the best he could and somewhere along the way, Izuku had found himself squirreling away in the one place neither Toshinori nor his mother could think to find him.

The apothecary's burrow.

Shota Aizawa, an omega by presentation, was a tired man with dark circles under his eyes and an unwillingness to mingle in crowds. He was a bit reclusive to most, a brooding and moody creature that preferred the silence of his own cabin than he did brushing shoulders with complete strangers. His attitude was as brittle as his appearance to add insult to injury.

Though many considered the man a strange and unbecoming entity, Shota managed to evade prying eyes by taking on a mate that didn’t seem to mind fielding his prickly disposition.

With a mate came the freedom to do as he pleased—so long as his alpha paid no mind to his strange habits. Hizashi was just as eccentric as he was, even encouraging Shota’s penchant for tinkering and potioneering—and soon enough, the strange village omega had cultivated a name for himself as an excellent apothecarist that possessed a discerning eye.

While he lacked the official qualifications of a healer, Shota was able to identify exactly what herbs, tinctures, and elixirs would best suit an ill patient—and when the world of a warrior had slipped far out of Izuku’s reach, it was in the quiet shelves of Shota’s stock of medicinal roots, leaves, and stalks that he found solace.

For quite some time, Izuku wondered if he could emulate Shota one day; an omega that didn’t embody the manufactured standard the village expected to see out of its young, one that filled his time with quiet work away from judgmental eyes.

When Izuku first appeared at the apothecary’s doorstep, basket brimming with his springtime finds, Shota had eyed him with a scowl and promptly slammed the door in his face, drawling out that he had no time to rear pups that weren’t his own.

It took time and persistence—but the more Izuku ran from his failures, the more he wore Shota down.

Soon enough, the green-haired omega found himself tucking away dried fronds of burdock stems into their respective drawer before returning to the mortar and pestle he had left sitting idly upon the counter. Shota didn’t seem to mind the extra set of hands—especially as the days became colder, the nights stretched on for longer, and their personal stock grew thinner.

Izuku had then found himself returning to the apothecary with his personal collection of mint, borage leaves, and tansy stems in preparation for the first root of cold that dared to snake its way through their village.

Shota would nod, step to the side, and let the young omega into his burrow—and together, they’d sit in comfortable silence as they prepared salves, teas, and tinctures that would inevitably be needed when the first throes of whitecough and greencough made themselves known.

This winter had been no exception—except for the fact that the first rush of cold had ushered in far more sickness than anticipated. Izuku couldn’t stand by idly as Shota worked himself to exhaustion, making house call after house call as he hand-delivered what medicines he could.

It was then that Izuku had taken it upon himself to stay at the apothecary, foraging in the early hours before dawn as best as he could and returning to the burrow before spending countless hours bundling care packages that the older omega would collect and hand-deliver to the families of the ill. Together, they were able to keep fend off the first wave with no one falling victim.

To think that Shota had remembered Izuku’s efforts and thought highly enough of him to offer some form of repayment when his friends approached him for assistance on his behalf… Izuku felt himself grow misty-eyed, the perfume of fresh wildflowers surrounding him mingling with the mild, earthy warmth of springtime rain.

“Oh, well…” Izuku murmured as his expression softened, gaze dropping in favor of studying the muted blue petals of the dried plants Ochaco had taken out of her sack. He reached for them, fingertips grazing the brittle stems as he watched a few of the petals begin to disintegrate under his touch. Despite that, a small, knowing smile tugged at his lips.

“That was… very nice of him. And of you.” Izuku tilted his head back enough to blink up at his friends, gaze shifting from Shoto to Ochaco and then to Tenya. “You guys didn’t have to go through all of this trouble for me, though. I promise, I would’ve been fine after just a little nap…”

Ochaco huffed, lips pursing together as she cast Izuku a disapproving look. “Forgive us for not believing you,” she started, shifting until she was able to plop into a more comfortable sitting position at his and Shoto’s side. As she crossed her legs, the beta reached to begin unraveling the thin strands of twine bundling the collection of herbs together. “You looked like you were on the verge of a complete breakdown, Izuku…”

This time, the concern was evident in her expression. Her brows creased and the smile that had rested upon her lips had faded until her mouth turned down at the corners. Tenya’s hum of agreement floated through the air before he also shifted to sit on the floor before them.

”Shoto was the only one who managed to calm you down, which is exactly why Ochaco and I took on the responsibility of fetching these for you.” The pleased confidence behind Tenya’s words was enough to ease the last of Izuku’s anxieties. “It’s the least we could do for you, dear friend.”

Izuku couldn’t help but breathe out a gentle ghost of a laugh; Tenya was always earnest, almost too earnest at times—but that was exactly what made him such a reliable ally. He was honest and true to his ideals. There were times he didn’t necessarily agree with Izuku or his decisions, but that did little to keep him from being as supportive as he could manage.

Tenya along with both Ochaco and Shoto were steadfast and loyal—and as all three of them watched Izuku with eyes flickering with worry, the green-haired omega shook his head and smiled.

“I’m really lucky,” he started, voice little more than a gentle whisper, “to have friends like you guys.”

Shoto squeezed his hand comfortingly and Ochaco let her head rest against his shoulder. Tenya hummed in response and leaned closer to dutifully slide a single vial of the thin, brown tincture towards him along with a particular bundle of dried flowers with blue-violet, almost indigo petals.

”Here,” the alpha pressed. “Aizawa-sensei mentioned that you’d know how to take these two in combination.”

His gaze flicked down to the fronds before him. Izuku reached for them, gently collecting the dried stems into his hands before bringing it closer to his face. He turned them this way and that, studying them before wide green eyes lit up in glee.

”Blue lotus flower!” His friends exchanged curious looks with one another but remained silent as they watched Izuku; the omega bit his cheek to conceal the small, giddy grin threatening to tug at his lips. He didn’t bother looking up at them, instead plucking one of the blossoms and holding it between two fingers.

“It’s very rare around here… in fact, the only way to source this is by finding a vendor from the other side of the mountains. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been able to purchase these off of a merchant, myself. I’ve only ever seen the flower in my botanical encyclopedia!”

The longer Izuku continued, the more excitement colored his words. His eyes glowed and the gentle sweetness of his pheromones grew in tandem with his lifted spirits. The omega rolled the petals between his fingers, giggling to himself as they crumbled into a bright, violet-pigmented heap of dust. Using his hands, Izuku began to gather the ground-up flower into a small mound against the smooth, wooden floors.

“Blue lotus flower can be used in a number of ways! You can steep the leaves in hot water to make a tea, you can also soak them in alcohol to extract its medicinal properties in an elixir… you can even crush the dehydrated flower and smoke it! Though, smoking the dried petals makes you absorb it at its most potent, which actually overrules its anti-anxiety and anti-insomnia properties and instead leaves you more susceptible to hallucinations. Oh, and…”

Izuku’s words, however, trailed off into awkward silence as he lifted his head to find three sets of eyes staring at him as if he had sprouted a second head. Immediately, he choked on his words and startled, an embarrassed flush staining his freckled cheeks a warm shade of pink.

“O-oh, gosh. I’m sorry! I started rambling without thinking!” The flustered squeal that escaped him pulled warm, amused laughter from his friends. Izuku slapped his hands over his face, uncaring that the sharp smack of the impact would leave his freckled cheeks angry and reddened. Covering his eyes behind his palms, he huffed out a drawn-out whine before turning to hide against Shoto’s side.

The other omega purred and the scent of fresh lavender sprigs settled over him, comforting and familiar. Shoto snaked one arm around Izuku’s middle section, giving him a subtle squeeze before turning to nuzzle into the crown of his unruly green curls. “It’s nothing we’re not used to, Izuku,” he teased, voice soft and gentle.

”It’s actually super impressive!” Ochaco supplied a sweet giggle. “The way you can rattle all that stuff off without even thinking about it… Maybe I wouldn’t have been so behind on my arithmetic lessons if I had a brain like yours!”

Even Tenya hummed in agreement and Izuku found the blush staining his cheeks darkening. He hazarded a small peek back at them all from over Shoto’s shoulder, green eyes wide.

”You guys are so nice to me,” he breathed out with a sigh, lips curling into a small, wobbling smile. “I just… have a lot of time on my hands. Aizawa-sensei gave me a couple volumes of his encyclopedias to study and I tend to save up all my coins to buy tomes and scrolls off of any vendors that pass by…” A nervous laugh followed suit as Izuku pulled himself back up into a sitting position. One hand moved to rub at the back of his neck as he let his gaze linger over the vials and plants once more. “I spend so much time reading that I guess… the information just sticks.”

“All this talk about plants,” Shoto mused after Izuku’s apologies devolved into sheepish muttering, “and you still haven’t even taken any of the medicine Ochaco and Tenya brought.”

Izuku perked up, blinking owlishly up at his friend before hooting out an inelegant oh! In response.

“Well,” Izuku offered, plucking at one of the vials full of tincture, “let me take a look, first.”

He squinted and furrowed his brows until they pinched, tilting the glass holder this way and that as he examined its contents. A small parchment tag was attached to the cork with a piece of twine. As Izuku thumbed it over to read the ink scrawled over it in Shota’s messy handwriting, he hummed to himself.

Valerian Root, 30% W/V ; 5 doses.

Izuku set that one aside and plucked up another vial, skimmed the label, and moved to the next. Sure enough, the different vials were of the same tincture in varying strengths–with the first one being the least potent. He nodded to himself, humming as he made note of the percentages, before setting them back down onto the floor in a neatly-arranged line.

The green-haired omega hadn’t realized that his friends had fallen silent during his examination, watching him with curious eyes and bated breath. When Izuku moved from simply looking at the vials to muttering under his breath, it was Ochaco who exhaled a quiet sigh of exasperation.

“Izuku.” Her tone, while chastising, was far from mean-spirited despite the way one of her brows arched and her arms crossed over her chest. “Feel free to fill the rest of us in on what you think, hm? Some coin for your thoughts?”

“Ah, well…” Izuku twisted a stray curl around a finger. “The thing is, these are all… fairly strong tinctures of Valerian. I mean, they definitely would help take the edge off from this morning, but…” He trailed off again, grimacing this time. As his gaze dropped, Izuku cleared his throat before continuing. “I’d probably fall asleep and wouldn’t be able to wake up in time for… tonight.”

The last word left his lips in a small whisper and in an instant, the air in the room began to feel heavier. Just like that, the small window of an escape that Izuku had perched himself in with the warmth of his friends surrounding me was snatched away as reality took its place.

Izuku swallowed, ignoring the way Ochaco and Shoto looked at one another and Tenya shifted, as if he were bracing himself to reach for him on the off chance that he burst into tears once more. He tried to clear his throat but the pebble that he had seemingly found itself lodged in his windpipe refused to budge.

“Same for the, ah. The flowers… Even if I diluted it into a tea, it’s a risky bet. So, I think I’ll just have to, um…” Izuku pursed his lips before drawing in a small breath. “I’ll have to pass. I’ll be fine for the rest of the day.” He even attempted to put on a small, reassuring smile–but judging from the sigh that left Ochaco’s lips, it didn’t have the intended effect.

His hand moved without thinking, fingers twitching until they grazed anxiously over the threaded outline of the Taurus constellation stitched against his wrist–as if he had remembered it for the first time since he had come out of his restless sleep.

“You don’t have to take anything you don’t want to, Izuku.” Shoto’s dainty fingers were cool to the touch as they reached to gently disengage Izuku’s own calloused ones from where they traced and re-traced his soulmark. “We only brought it in case you did, okay?” He leaned close, close enough to bonk his forehead to the crown of Izuku’s head in endearment.

Izuku nodded, pursing his lips as the warmth of his earlier joy began to evaporate, leaving dull embers behind until the cold emptiness ate away at his insides all over again. He had almost forgotten why he had come here in the first place, why he had been weeping in Shoto’s lap at all–and as it dawned on Izuku, he realized that the icy feeling snaking its tendrils through the pit of his stomach was dread.

He exhaled a breath, one that stuttered against his lip as his chest pulled tight. The thread that wound its way through his ribcage grew taut–another reminder of what awaited him, what he had been running from only hours earlier. The exhaustion returned and Izuku felt his shoulders sag.

“Right,” Izuku hummed, the blunt edges of his nails digging into the tender flesh along the underside of his wrist.

Ochaco must have noticed because in the next moment, one of her hands found Izuku’s own. Her palms were warm and she smelled of cocoa butter and hazelnuts roasting over a fire–comforting and familiar, as cozy as a warm winter day spent by the hearth. All it took was one inhale for Izuku to feel his fraying nerves still. He breathed out a sigh, green hues flicking up to meet an intense brown gaze, honeypot eyes searching his expression.

“How are you feeling, Izuku? Really feeling, I mean.” Her words were quiet and pensive, touched with the slightest hint of worry all over again.

Izuku knew he couldn’t lie; Shoto had already held him as he wept, scented him until his anxieties eased. He knew just how deeply his worries ran–and though neither Ochaco nor Tenya had witnessed it directly, both the alpha and the beta knew Izuku well enough to know that the heavy weight of this newfound burden was nothing short of soul-crushing for an omega like him.

His nostrils flared and the sweetened meadow of wildflowers began to wilt, his scent souring along with his pheromones. Izuku took one small breath–and when he exhaled, his head hung and his shoulders hunched ever so slightly.

“It’s just a lot, you know?” Izuku’s words were little more than a hushed whisper, fracturing at the edge of his question until his voice cracked altogether. “I… I have no idea why it’s me–but more than that… my mate… my soulmate. It’s–” Izuku tried to say his name but the moment his lips parted, it lodged in his throat and he choked.

Kacchan.

He couldn’t get it out, couldn’t breathe out the name he had whispered like a prayer and cursed like an enemy all at once. Izuku’s gaze dropped and he drew in a shuddering breath; the omega was grateful for the way Shoto placed a hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing small but comforting circles against him. He couldn’t bare to look back up at Ochaco and when the two-toned omega at his side gently spoke on his behalf, all Izuku could do was breathe out a sigh of relief.

“It’s Katsuki,” Shoto explained. His cadence was quiet and sincere, that familiar monotone leveling his words in a way that softened the blow. Izuku could hear the way Ochaco inhaled sharply along with Tenya’s quiet but deliberate sigh. “Which is why Izuku has been so…” Shoto pursed his lips in consideration before carefully continuing, “... overwhelmed.”

“Oh, Izuku…” There was something almost akin to pity in her voice and the omega almost flinched. She took his hand regardless, threading their fingers together. Izuku had to grit his teeth to ignore the way his soulmark itched. “I’m sorry. I know you two don’t get along…”

At that, the omega almost laughed. All he managed, however, was a sharp snort, nostrils flaring and his scent curdling a touch more. He ignored the way Shoto cleared his throat and turned his head to the other side, no doubt choking on the sudden swell of Izuku’s irritated pheromones.

“No, we don’t.” The statement left Izuku’s left with curt finality, like he had given up on any other alternative answer long, long ago. “But it’s not just that… we don’t just not get along. He can’t stand being around me, at all. It’s been like that since we were little.”

Izuku hardly noticed the hopelessness that had crept its way into his voice, bitter and jaded. It wasn’t until Ochaco spoke, careful and patient, that Izuku bothered to look back up.

“None of us want to try to convince you that things will get better,” she reasoned, “because that’s not fair to you. But… is there anything we can do to make this easier for you? We’re your friends.” Wide brown eyes peered over at him–and as Shoto’s hands carefully disengaged from his own, Ochaco’s took their place. Her touch was warm, soft fingertips grazing against the numerous scars Izuku had accumulated against his hands over years spent digging and fighting. “All we want right now… is to make sure we’re here for you. However you need.”

Izuku was grateful–he’d always be grateful. His friends were kind even if they didn’t understand his eccentricities. They chided and they teased, but they were steadfast. The omega felt his throat grow tight before he dragged a shuddering breath into his lungs.

But even then, despite their patience and their dedication, there was one fact that was left unspoken. An implication that made his chest ache.

We’re here for you because there’s nothing we can do to change this.

He had to force a smile onto his lips, a wobbling and uncertain expression that he was sure did little to convince the friends gazing at him that he was content. “I know,” Izuku whispered. He ignored the pressure behind his eyes and the heat that ached at the back of his throat. “I know you guys are here for me and I… I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“But?” It was Tenya’s steady rumble that had Izuku biting the inside of his cheek. The alpha’s voice softened when he spoke again. “What’s on your mind? You can tell us.”

There was a small stretch of silence. Izuku mulled over all the thoughts he had left unspoken–how he wished for nothing more than to be free of this, free of the expectations and the rehearsed formalities… how he wished to be his own person without the expectation of an alpha rescuing him.

How he wished that Katsuki, the boy he once called Kacchan with affection as warm and sweet as honey coloring his voice, would see him as something more than the disappointment he’s always considered Izuku to be.

Something in his chest lurched–as if his heart was being pulled by a thread, sharp and insistent. At the very thought of him, thick blonde hair and wild red eyes, the omega within him writhed. It twisted and it whined, rearing its head in petulance. Izuku had to clench his teeth, gaze dropping and the muscles in his shoulders suddenly growing tense.

He pursed his lips, silently willing the beast that dwelled within him to settle back down so that he could push it down, down, down–just as he had always done, just as he would always continue to do.

His omega whined, bucking in protest hard enough that he had to bite back a hiss.

Why not accept alpha? The petulance in the wolf’s whines made Izuku’s stomach tighten. Why not take mate? Strong–can protect us, protect pups.

Because I can protect myself. The thought was bitter and angry, jaded by years of learning to fight for himself when no one else but Toshinori believed in him. Because he turned his back on me first.

His fingers flexed–and as his blunt nails dragged against the thick material of his trousers, Izuku forced himself to exhale a shuddering breath. As he parted his lips to speak, his voice strained with a defeated croak.

“But I don’t know what I need right now.” Izuku swallowed thickly, avoiding the three sets of eyes watching him with varying degrees of pity, understanding, and empathy.

“I saw Kacch–” He stopped himself before clearing his throat. “I saw him this morning, by the meadow on the other side of the village… and he was just as furious about this as I expected him to be. He wants this even less than I do… which I didn’t think was possible.” Izuku barked out a quiet laugh, though the sound lacked any humor or amusement. “I have no idea how I’m supposed to make this work when he hates just looking at me. I don’t even know what I did to him.”

Shoto’s arm wrapped around Izuku’s shoulder and as he exhaled out a soft, comforting purr, the other omega nosed into the crown of his head. The gesture was enough to force Izuku’s shoulders to sag again and he breathed out a tired-sounding sigh.

“I know, Izuku,” Shoto murmured. “This is really hard for you and we just want to take care of you through this.”

Izuku hiccuped over the tears he was trying to hold himself back from shedding–but the moment Shoto’s warm cheek pressed to his and the scent of wilted wildflowers mingled with fresh, clean soap and lavender, he felt himself grow boneless and the warmth of a few fresh tears slid down freckled cheeks.

“Th–thank you.” Izuku felt his words stutter but he paid no mind. “I really appreciate all of you…”

“Rest assured, Izuku,” Tenya pressed, his tone returning back to the same confident but authoritative rumble. “We will do anything we can to make this transition easy for you! Especially since soul-magic is unbreakable.”

“Tenya!” Ochaco hissed, brows pinching together before she dug her elbow into the alpha’s side. The comforting warmth of her scent took on a spiced edge with her annoyance, cloves and cinnamon that overtook the toasted hazelnuts. “There’s no reason for you to remind him of that.”

“Izuku needs our support.” Shoto added with lifted brows. “Besides, even if it is breakable, magic like that would be considered–”

“Blasphemy.” Izuku finished Shoto’s sentence for him, lips curving down at the corners. As he lifted his gaze, wide green hues shifting to scan over his friends, the green-haired omega fought the urge to heave another sigh. Shoto pressed his lips into a thin line at his side, head bobbing in a curt nod while Ochaco shook her head. “Soul-magic is sacred… just like everything Demeter does.”

As the words left his mouth, Izuku’s fingers stretched forward to brush over the dried petals of the nearest bushel of blue lotus flowers. Each violet frond was brittle, disintegrating into dust under the most fragile of touches–and the longer Izuku gazed down at them, the more his thoughts began to wander.

It was true that soul-magic–the type of magic that only came once every year if Demeter so willed it–was a divine right. It was a sacred act that no one dared to tamper with, as besmirching the beauty of divine intervention was as criminal an act as treason among his people.

Demeter’s temple, settled against the jagged cliffsides of the mountain fringing Musutafu, was only ever occupied by those who received a blessing. The temple-keepers were betas and omegas that were visited by Demeter in their dreams–and aside from them, the only other ones permitted to cross the threshold into the sanctity that housed their patron Goddess were those chosen with a soulmark. To even consider defacing the kind of magic that allowed you exclusive access to Musutafu’s most hallowed grounds was an act of heresy.

As Izuku twisted dried stems between the pads of his fingers, the image of worn parchment pages imprinted with careful strokes of handwritten ink shuffled through his mind.

Shota Aizawa, while generous in allowing the young omega to mill about his apothecary, had a fairly small collection of encyclopedias–and the few tomes that he did have were dated at best. Over the years, when Izuku’s inquisitive nature won the better of him, he had taken it upon himself to gather what meager coin he earned from taking on odd jobs throughout the village to purchase volumes from the venturing merchants from faraway kingdoms, villages, and nations.

Foreign goods were always expensive–and more often than not, Izuku could only manage to pay for a single edition of a semi-current almanac once every season… but through his determined diligence, Izuku managed to curate his own modest library of tomes, scrolls, and leather-bound journals.

The most fascinating thing about written material from outside of Musutafu’s own archives–a well-kept library tended to by the War Chief’s most trusted advisors–was that they occasionally spoke of magic foreign to Demeter’s disciples.

While the people of Musutafu nurtured a love for nature, fertility, and the blessings of spring, others worshiped deities dedicated to Death, to the underworld. Some spoke of divine entities that rumbled with the theatrics of lightning and thunder, thrumming with a raw power found only in storms.

Different patron saints called for different potions, different sources of magic… a logical conclusion, Izuku found himself thinking. But as he lifted a dried lotus flower to the light filtering through the window, studying the way its yellowed stems were brittle and cracking in the places where his fingers had dented into them, his mind settled over a particular image.

A hand-drawn diagram of a fresh blue lotus flower, each part–from the stamen to the stem–labeled in careful, looping script printed into an old journal that a particularly hawkish merchant was keen to pawn off.

The moleskin volume was small and its pages tattered, the spine cracked and creased in all the places its original owner had no doubt pulled it open–but when Izuku flipped through it, he was filled in awe with the numerous notes cataloged so neatly within the margins. He had quickly taken it home after forking over what little silver he had left and poured over each and every page with rapt attention.

Unlike the tales of magic and benevolent gods Izuku often came across in his thirst for knowledge, this journal spoke of grimoire and spells–and every botanical diagram etched into the pages weren’t simply for the edification of the aspiring apothecary… but instead a detailed explanation of how each plant had an alternate purpose within the realms of grimoire and spellcrafts.

A particular line stuck out to Izuku, written thoughtfully and intentionally at the top of one of the pages. Izuku couldn’t recall what had followed it, but as his thoughts lingered, the words started to creep their way back into his mind.

For every act of magic, there is always an equal and opposite inversion as dictated by the third law of spiritualism.

Izuku’s hands went still in their movements over the brittle bend of the dried flower’s stems, thoughts screeching to a halting standstill as the meaning behind those very words suddenly weighed upon his chest. His heart stopped, the incessant pounding of it against his ribcage stalling until he had to remind himself to breathe again.

An equal and opposite inversion.

The blood in his ears roared as Izuku drew in a stuttering breath. Every act of magic, the writer had penned. Nothing was an exception–it was an implicit law of nature, a truth that couldn’t be reversed… no matter what the people were led to believe.

There was only one conclusion Izuku could draw–and the moment it clicked, he gave a sharp inhale. The fronds of dried plants slipped from between his calloused fingers, fluttering to the ground in a crumpled heap.

His skin buzzed and the blood in his ears ebbed until the voices of his friends filtered back to him. The excitement itching beneath his skin caused the thread of delicate red to thrum with excitement. As the omega sucked in a breath, he parted his lips to speak.

What if, he wanted to say, there is a way.

His heart stuttered in anticipation, ready to tell his friends that where there is magic, there is hope–but the moment his concentration zeroed back into the world around him, his mouth faltered. His friends were enthralled in a debate, squabbling with one another with all the good intentions they could muster.

“–just like Izuku said, it’s blasphemy to even consider working around soul-magic,” Shoto fussed, his soft, demure voice rising with a subtle flush of exasperation.

“I know it is, I’m just saying that if he wanted to, we wouldn’t even know where to look. It’s not as if the archives would have anything against Demeter’s blessings in there.” It was Ochaco’s turn to sigh out in resignation, her full and pink cheeks puffed out. “It’s not as if we’re actually going to try anything since there’s no way for us to.”

Izuku drew in a breath. It was as if the omega’s pensive silence had gone unnoticed by his friends.

“Well,” Tenya cut in with thoughtful consideration, “are the archives the only way to source information?”

Shoto hummed, picking at a stray thread fraying from the hem of his sleeve. “My father has quite a collection of his own in his personal library,” the omega monotoned. “Material he’s sourced through his travels over the years, but we haven’t been permitted to go through him. Touya-nii and Hawks always said a ghost haunted it, so that’s why I wasn’t allowed in. But sometimes I think they made that up to give me a scare.” He concluded his sentence plainly, the slightest pinch forming between his manicured brows.

A small lapse of silence continued–but as if he had belatedly realized he made a mistake, Shoto inhaled sharply and jolted his head upright. His delicate features scrunched up to shoot Tenya a withering look.

“But don’t get any ideas.” Shoto reached a hand, clasping Izuku’s calloused and scarred one with his own without warning. Thin, tapered digits twined with his before squeezing. “The last thing I want is for anyone to get in trouble.” He tilted his head, bi-colored gaze meeting Izuku’s wide eyes. Offering the smallest of smiles, Shoto murmured, “Right, Izuku?”

Izuku felt the hope that had begun to swell inside of his chest deflate without warning–a pin to the bubble of bliss he had only been able to bask in for a handful of moments.

A part of him couldn’t help but bristle; blasphemy may be a crime, Izuku reasoned, but facing the consequences of heresy felt like a welcome reprieve from being trapped in a loveless bond with an alpha that could barely stand to look at him.

Another part of Izuku, the quiet and worrisome part, couldn’t help but soothe his scent with honey and nectar–a silent promise that he would listen for the sole sake of not worrying those that cared so deeply for him. He hoped briefly that this side of him was the more convincing one, the one that his friends believed in.

The green-haired omega forced a smile to his lips. “Right,” he whispered, hoping the gentleness of his cadence was enough to mask the unconvinced crack threatening to creep its way through his words. “The last thing I want is to be any more trouble.”

“You’re no trouble at all, Izuku,” Shoto continued, sounding almost fierce despite the cool indifference that often clung to his words. Another tight squeeze of his hands followed as the relaxing aroma of fresh lavender sprigs and clean linens curled around Izuku. “I know this is hard, but we’ll find a way to get through this. You’re not alone.”

“Exactly!” Ochaco offered, quick to sit up on her knees and lean over to him. Her warm gaze glowed in the sunlight, honeypot pools that glittered with nothing but adoration. The smile that tugged at her lips was accompanied by warm cocoa and freshly toasted hazelnuts. “We’ll have your back, no matter what.”

Tenya, the only alpha in the room, had the decency to keep his distance lest the overwhelming presence of an alpha hovering too close triggered a stress response from Izuku, who had already endured so much in so little time. He did, however, give a confident nod of his head. “No matter the situation, you can always count on us! We are your support team, Izuku. Let us be of service to you.”

The forced smile pulled tight on his lips left his cheeks aching, but Izuku refused to let it falter. “I know, I know. Thank you, I’m grateful…” He held himself back from sighing out, even if I don’t want this to continue, even if I want to do the very opposite.

Shoto gave his hand another tug as he gathered himself up to his feet. He hoisted Izuku up with a small hum. “Come on,” he urged with a gentle smile, “your debut is tonight, isn’t it? Let’s start getting you cleaned up instead of sitting here and worrying.” As he leaned close, his cheek rubbed against the crown of Izuku’s wild green curls, the sweet purr of an omega attempting to comfort a packmate radiating off of him. “I bought so many ceremonial robes that I don’t have any need for, now… and I think I have a few that would look stunning on you.”

Ochaco leapt to her feet with a soft laugh. She trailed after them as Shoto guided him out of the mudroom, tinctures and herbs left forgotten on the wooden floors. “Oh, Izuku, you’re going to look stunning…” Her excited chatter, however, faded into a background buzz as Tenya joined her, helping shepherd them along the winding corridors of the Todoroki estate.

He couldn’t quite make out the words leaving his friends lips as his body moved on reflex alone, muscle memory that didn’t require Izuku’s attention… not when his mind was elsewhere.

The only thing in his ears was the soft, pitiful whimpers of his omega–defeated and alone.

Please, it begged him. Please, let me have alpha. Please. Just let me be.

Izuku ignored it with a thick swallow. His mind was made up and not even the tight feeling threatening to snap inside of his chest could stop him.

His omega wept for what Izuku hoped would be the last time.

Chapter Text

Despite the frigid breath of winter sweeping through Musutafu, the warm glow of twilight bathed the village square in streaks of deep indigo and blooming orange. Swells of raucous laughter mingled with the plucky, upbeat rhythm of a string instrument and as the village people gathered together for the second night of the solstice festivities, it seemed as if not a single thing could dampen the spirits of Her followers.

Scores of his village-mates gathered with their chalices brimming with mead and mouths full of song—and though the second night of the festival was always meant to be an affair full of excitement, Katsuki couldn’t ignore the tight knot of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Perhaps the alpha could blame his simmering annoyance on the fact that the muslin material of his tunic made his skin itch or that the velvet interior of his ceremonial cloak left his back sticky with sweat despite the cold snap still lingering in the air—but as he clenched and unclenched his teeth, Katsuki was acutely aware that the impending sense of doom hanging heavily upon his shoulders wasn’t due to anything as frivolous or superficial as the clothes on his back.

Hissing out a breath through clenched teeth, Katsuki drummed his fingers with apprehension against the gilded designs carved into the arm-rest of the throne he had been gifted. The chair to his right—smaller in size, but just as ornate and decorated—sat empty and with each passing moment, the anticipation of his arrival began to eat away at the last fraying threads of Katsuki’s patience.

He leaned back in his seat with a low, ill-tempered growl that snagged against his throat.

The stage built the day before still stood at the center of the village square—except now, instead of Chief Todoroki and his men standing tall and stoic before the people of Musutafu, it was Katsuki who sat perched beneath the shade of an elegant tent that had been pitched prior to the night’s celebrations.

The debut of the fated pair was always an event of much fanfare and celebration among Demeter’s people—and though Katsuki had seen the event take place a number of times since he was young, it felt strange to be on the other side of the figurative line drawn in the snow.

For so long, Katsuki had bounced through the crowds with wide eyes and a wolfish grin, watching with unwavering attention as the winter’s chosen one descended upon the crowds with the gravity of a natural-born hero. Back when he was a pup, a young alpha overflowing with unbridled energy that refused to be curbed, he had dreamed of the day that it would be him wearing the silken tunic, the heavy, trailing cloak, and the necklaces fashioned from the teeth and bones of those who had fallen victim to his strength.

And yet, when the people split through the middle of the crowd to provide him with a path to both the stage and the throne that awaited him, the knot of dread that pulled at his insides refused to unravel.

The hush that had settled over the crowd the moment the weight of his presence settled over the square had been deafening, roaring in his ears almost as loudly as the thrum of his own heartbeat.

Hanta and Denki had flanked him on either side, heads held high, as Eijirou called for the people’s attention in front of him—and the moment all eyes turned to rest upon him, Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder whether the glory, the fame, the recognition of all that he had worked so hard for up until then had truly been worth it.

He had walked with his head held high and his jaw squared, the picture of arrogance—but the air surrounding him tasted of ashed wood, betraying the unease that prickled beneath his skin. As Eijirou pulled the heavy cloth of the tent back to reveal the matching seats nestled beneath its shade, Katsuki found it impossible to ignore the subtle hint of pity that lingered in the other alpha’s scent.

Katsuki damn near bared his teeth out of reflex—but the moment his gaze had met his friend’s, the last dregs of his frustration slowly ebbed away, leaving him deflated and defeated. He had taken his seat dutifully, expression stone-faced, and before Eijirou skirted past him to descend the steps of the stage to join the rest of the warriors in the crowd, he had lowered his head and whispered, “I’m rooting for you.”

Sometimes, the young alpha couldn’t help but wonder whether the hope and trust his warriors, his friends, put in him was misplaced. As he took his post overlooking the throngs of excited villagers gathering together to celebrate him, Katsuki swallowed, thick and heavy.

Eijirou had been the only one of his warriors that he had confided in the moments before his debut.

Early that morning, long after he had turned his back to him and turned tail to run and hide like the coward he was beneath it all, it had been Eijirou who had bothered to scout through the quiet crevices of Musutafu in search of him.

When he came across Katsuki simmering with a rage that felt far too big for his bones, the red-haired alpha had been quick to stand by his side—dutiful and steadfast, as he always had been.

It took Katsuki far too long to gather his bearings, to keep himself from spitting and baring his teeth like a cornered animal willing to do whatever it took to come out alive—but when he had finally steadied himself on his feet and the ringing in his ears subsided enough for him to make out the actual words leaving Eijirou’s lips, he sank down onto his knees in the snow and let himself buckle under the weight of his own sins.

Katsuki Bakugou had always been a fighter—infallible, ambitious, and relentless. He was destined for great power, an alpha that came into his nature as a mere pup—and if there was one damn thing he had learned in his journey to be the best, it was that legends never let themselves break. To splinter under the responsibilities thrust upon him was a sign of weakness—and he refused to let himself become the very thing he swore to never be: a failure.

But in that moment, with the rage of his own alpha bubbling inside of him and the burn of his soulmark scorching his wrist, Katsuki let himself come undone if for just a brief moment. Eijirou crouched before him, hands placed upon broad, muscled shoulders over the fabric of his cloak, and waited until the other alpha could bring himself to choke out the words lodged in his throat.

Katsuki didn’t let himself confess to the finer details—of all the cruelty and pain he had inflicted upon the very boy his alpha had chosen—but he did admit to the fact that the omega Demeter had so perversely selected for him was, perhaps, the only one in the entire village that would never accept him as a mate.

Eijirou’s patience was always one of his greatest virtues; for a rambunctious and excitable alpha, he had the diligence to focus on those closest to him. His kind heart had always been something Katsuki considered a weakness, thinking it made him susceptible to defeat on the battlefield—but in that moment, as he listened in dutiful silence, the blonde found himself thanking Demeter for the first time since the start of the damned festival.

As the red-haired alpha squeezed a thick shoulder, the familiar scent of spiced cloves mingled with the raging forest fire of Katsuki’s curdled pheromones. “Nothing is impossible,” Eijirou had reasoned, raspy tone heavy with sympathy. “Even if it feels like it. The Katsuki Bakugou I know never backed down from a challenge… why would this time be any different?”

The words that left Eijirou’s lips began to sink in—and the moment Katsuki realized the truth behind them, he slowly rose back to his feet and surveyed his friend with a careful look. When he saw nothing but the resilient loyalty that had always lurked in the depths of Eijirou’s eyes, Katsuki hummed.

Without warning, he had pulled the other alpha in with a sharp jerk and wrapped thick, muscular arms around him in a tight hug. He ignored the surprised grunt that escaped Eijirou as he squeezed him—and when he spoke, his voice had been low and heavy with an unguarded gratitude Katsuki rarely let himself express.

”Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re right. I don’t ever back the fuck down.”

When he finally let Eijirou go, he had barked at him once to never speak word of that damn hug to a soul, or else—and as his friend laughed, an arm swung around Katsuki’s shoulder to lead the bigger, broader alpha back towards the training grounds.

It was soon after that the rest of the warriors joined in the preparations needed before Katsuki’s debut… and though the frustration welling up inside of him had finally simmered back down, the unease refused to waver.

It was that same feeling of stomach-twisting discomfort that swirled within him as he waited, each second passing by slower than the last. Katsuki could feel the way his leg bounced apprehensively, the familiar itch crawling under his skin refusing to waver—and though a part of the alpha wished to do nothing more than rip the silver, ceremonial circlet nestled within his blonde locks and fling it across the village square in resignation, he merely clicked his teeth together and bided his time.

At least this way, Katsuki reasoned, he had a few moments to himself to consider how to approach the omega that would soon be at his side.

Toshinori’s words from the early hours of dawn whispered somewhere in the crevices of his mind—a reminder that not even the mentor he looked up to for all these years had the answers to his woes.

Omega will come, his alpha suddenly rumbled, contemplative and pleased. Omega will be by my side again.

“Shut up,” Katsuki snapped under his breath, teeth clenching together tight enough for a strained breath to hiss. Especially not now—especially not when Izuku’s impending arrival loomed over him.

Take omega and everything heals, his alpha protested. Katsuki felt himself snapping his jaws in retaliation before he could stop himself, skull vibrating from the sudden clack of his teeth coming together as he swallowed back a groan. Why fight what is given to us?

Because I don’t deserve it, Katsuki wanted to snarl back. Because he won’t accept me.

Make omega see that you are worthy mate, the alpha within him offered. Prove to omega that you are not a failure.

His scent curdled and as he flared his nostrils, the alpha damn near choked on the acrid stench of his own scent. Katsuki sneered, biting out a scoff through his tightened throat before forcing himself to sit up straighter in his seat. “Yeah, right,” the blonde gritted out through his teeth. “Like it’ll be that fuckin’ easy.”

Because Izuku Mirodiya was the opposite of easy.

He was complicated and different, headstrong and stubborn. He refused to back down when the odds were stacked against him—and back then, Katsuki had decided he hated that most about him.

Seeing him practice his kicks and his punches with a burlap sack in the empty meadow that had once been hallowed ground for two young pups all those years ago had ignited something hot and burning inside of Katsuki’s chest.

He was too young, too blind, too fueled by his own arrogance to extrapolate the feeling at the core of that heat—and instead of realizing that the alpha inside of him burned with the desire to protect, enraged at the idea that one day, Izuku may become a warrior thrust into harm’s way, Katsuki let the fire scorching his heart consume him.

But it was too little, too late.

The time for regrets and amends had long since passed them by and the distance between them had grown so vast that Katsuki had not a clue on how to use the meager sticks and stones at his feet to build a bridge long enough to reach him.

It didn’t help that everytime Katsuki closed his eyes, the sight of Izuku standing at the edge of a snow-covered meadow, shoulders trembling and tears streaking freckled cheeks that had grown pink from the cold, was burned into the back of his eyelids. His stomach clenched and the familiar tang of bile and acid clung to the back of his tongue.

Perhaps, Katsuki rationalized with a thick swallow, with nowhere for Izuku to go, he could broach the tentative subject of their disastrous last meeting.

Apologies never came easily to the alpha–there hadn’t ever been a damn thing in his life that he had regretted to the point of letting go of his pride long enough to say the word sorry–but with the entire village’s blessings hanging by nothing but a delicate red thread, Katsuki knew he had no choice but to try.

Especially if it was for him.

Katsuki’s thoughts came to a grinding halt, however, as the song and dance sweeping through the village square fell silent.

Red hues snapped up in time to see Chief Todoroki standing at the edge of the cobblestone, one hand held high to demand the attention of his people. The alpha was large and imposing, standing at a staggering height that towered over even Katsuki by two entire heads. His eyes were electric–sharp as a whip and twice as cutting–and as his gaze swept over the crowds, it felt as if the entirety of Musutafu was holding its collective breath.

When he was certain to have all eyes upon him, Chief Todoroki jutted out his chin and flexed his jaw. Even from this distance, Katsuki could see the way his nostrils flared and his brow twitched; while the Todoroki patriarch was a man of few niceties, the trained eye could easily pick apart the difference between his usual visage of indifference and true annoyance.

Katsuki snorted to himself as he took in the subtle pulse of the vein at his temple, one hand lifting to covertly hide the way his lips threatened to twitch into a scoff.

It was no secret that Chief Todoroki had only one omega out of all his pups–a rare gift within their lineage. The Todoroki line, gifted with a strength that rivaled the destructive power of a wildfire, was known for bearing alpha after alpha–proven by Enji’s firstborn pup, Touya, and even his second son, Natsuo.

Shoto, however, was the first omega born into the Todoroki family in three generations.

A blessing–an omega made to propagate the Todoroki line with the strength of an equally capable, equally powerful alpha.

It had all been according to his plan–but now, with Demeter’s particular brand of humor, it hadn’t been Chief Todoroki’s son, but his son’s best friend that had taken on the role of chosen one.

Katsuki could only assume that Shoto had been less than thrilled to hear of Izuku’s selection–but he was certain that Chief Todoroki had taken the news much, much harder.

When the veteran alpha spoke, his baritone timbre boomed through the air, loud and authoritative.

“Today marks the second day of Demeter’s celebrations,” Chief Todoroki started, the commandeering edge to his words leaving his voice low and rumbling, “and allow me be the first to thank you all for appearing before Her in welcoming the children She has designated as her chosen ones.”

The mere breath of the words chosen one left the crowd rippling with a flurry of excitement–stolen whispers and breathy gasps at the anticipation of what Demeter held in store for them all. Enji waited for the rustling voices to grow silent before continuing, head held high as he looked over everyone down the sharp plane of his nose.

He lowered his arm, the thick, corded muscles of his shoulders flexing beneath the heavy material of his cloak. “As we know, our very own Katsuki Bakugou is the alpha hand-selected by Demeter.” Enji paused long enough to let a short string of cheers to echo through the air; it was enough to lift Katsuki’s dwindling spirits by a fraction, head lifting just enough for him to dip his head in a small, curt nod of humble acknowledgement to the Chief for honoring him. “He is strong and capable, one of our finest warriors. But it is not him alone that She has picked…”

As his words trailed off, the collective hush settled back over the crowd. The silence that followed was deafening–as if the entire world had stalled to wait to see who it was that had been blessed with Demeter’s favor–and when Enji opened his mouth once more, even Katsuki found himself waiting with bated breath.

“It is with great honor and humility that the people of Musutafu welcome our chosen omega… Izuku Midoriya, sole descendant of the Midoriya bloodline.”

Katsuki didn’t have time to register the sound of the surprised whispers and shocked inhales rippling through the throng of villagers crammed within the square–not when Chief Todoroki stepped back to reveal an omega like none other, a creature so ethereal that the thread twining through Katsuki’s heart constricted until he forgot how to breathe altogether.

Izuku stood with his head held high before the people of Musutafu with an air of regal elegance that rivaled that of a monarch–a far cry from the anxious, fidgety, rough-and-tumble omega that had challenged Katsuki only hours before.

Hanging from his shoulders was a sheer, chiffon cloak in a delicate shade of seafoam-green, cascading down his back and unfurling in a tasteful train. The silver embroidery stitched against the fabric glittered against the pure white of the snow dusting the ground, like beads of ice shimmering beneath the twilight skies. The georgette trousers he wore–cinched at his hips with a lovely silver sash–sported the same embroidered design, hand-stitched against the side of each leg.

There was a thick collar draped over his bare shoulders, fashioned from soft white fur–no doubt crafted from the pelts of winter hares–that clasped at his collarbones with a pale blue jewel, each glittering facet catching the light in all of its iridescence. Beneath the thin fabric of his cloak, Izuku was fitted into a corset laced with silk ribbons in the same shade of robin’s egg blue as the jewel hanging at his collarbones.

The material was expensive-looking–something that cost far more coin than the Midoriyas could afford, even with Chief Yagi’s wealth–but the decadent fabrics and tailored clothing paled in comparison to the headpiece nestled within perfectly-styled curls, as lush and verdant as a summer forest.

The silver circlet was dainty, glittering blue topazes encrusted into it and thin chains looping around its circumference, hanging neatly against Izuku’s forehead despite the way his curls bounced with every breath, every movement that the omega made.

As per tradition, the headpiece that Izuku wore held a sheer veil in place. The act of protecting the modesty of an omega during courting rituals was an archaic one that had long since been deemed antiquated–but when it came to honoring their patron goddess, tradition prevailed over modernity.

A veil, whether functional or decorative, was often a central piece of the ceremonial ensemble–but as with all things, Izuku seemed keen to upend what was expected of him.

Instead of allowing the delicate fabric to obscure his features from Katsuki’s view, the veil was parted down the middle and clipped back into his curls with two silver berets, leaving soft, freckled cheeks and wide green eyes vulnerable to the alpha’s hungry gaze.

Izuku was flanked on either side by his chosen escorts–a brown-haired beta with round cheeks on his right and Shoto Todoroki to his left. Dressed in simple, embroidered muslin, the latter looked plain–almost demure–when standing next to the green-haired omega. It’s the most understated Katsuki had ever seen the War Chief’s youngest son–but in that moment, he had no time to gawk or sneer at Shoto’s newfound modesty.

Not when Izuku, bathed in the soft glow of seafoam hues and draped in gossamer folds of chiffon, looked liked Aphrodite, herself, descending from the frothing ocean with a beauty so earth-shattering that it felt almost alien to those who dared to gaze upon him.

It wasn’t until the crowd parted to make way for the omega to descend upon the throne that awaited him that Katsuki first remembered how to breathe again.

His nostrils flared once and somehow, like a switch had been flipped, he found himself able to pick apart the subtle notes of Izuku scattered among the plethora of scents hanging in the air.

Wildflowers dancing in the breeze with freshly-bloomed petals, thick and decadent honey dripping in amber rivulets down the bark of a tree, and the earthy taste of the air before summer rain.

The alpha within Katsuki crooned–a quiet, rumbling noise that stuck to the inside of his chest like syrup. Soft, slow, sweet.

As Izuku drew closer, the rattling vibrato of his unrefined croon simmered until all Katsuki could do was force a dry swallow down his throat.

Red eyes followed the way the chiffon cloak billowed behind him in waves before outlining the silken, defined edges of his bouncing curls. The veil, while parted, contrasted with the deep green of his hair in a way that only served to accentuate the way Izuku looked like summer– lush and verdant, golden warmth against cool blues and winter white.

When Izuku finally drew to a halt at the foot of the stage, Shoto and Round-face released their precarious hold on each of Izuku’s arms. They both took a respectful step back before dipping into a half bow–a sign of their respect to Demeter’s chosen.

Katsuki half expected to see his lower lip tremble or a look of uncomfortable uncertainty to make its way over his features–but as Izuku held his head high with subtle defiance against the expectations of demure modesty meant for him, the omega took his first step towards the throne waiting for him.

The sweet scent of summertime filled the tent immediately.

As his nostrils flared, Katsuki drew in a sharp breath and willed himself to maintain his composure as he drank in delicate florals and sweet, sticky honey with every dry swallow.

He damn near choked on it–on the way it felt like wildflowers had taken root in his chest until their frond-like stems wound through his lungs tight enough to suffocate him from the inside out–and Katsuki could only pray to Demeter that Izuku didn’t hear the strangled wheeze of his breaths.

Katsuki felt the way his alpha rumbled in glee, pleased and docile for what felt like the first time in years. The ugly snarls and the snap of its jaws reverberating through his skull that had long since haunted his inner machinations seemed to finally fall silent as his gaze followed Izuku’s movements, watching intently as the omega adjusted the sheer material of his cloak to finally sink down into the seat to Katsuki’s right.

He was careful to keep from looking at him directly; Katsuki left one elbow propped against the armrest of his own chair, cheek resting lazily upon his closed fist–almost as if he was bored of this entanglement, as if being presented to the village as their chosen alpha was just another menial task to be ticked off from his agenda.

And yet, he watched carefully from the corners of his eyes as Izuku smoothed the embroidered georgette of his trousers and nestled as comfortably as he could manage into the seat at his side. Katsuki passed his tongue over his teeth, pausing only to prod at one of his canines before he sucked in a breath.

Even as the omega settled with his hands folded neatly into his lap, he refused to turn his head by even a fraction of an inch to show any form of acknowledgement to the alpha to his left. Instead, Izuku kept his head held high, his expression neutral and his green gaze trained straight ahead of him–like nothing else existed around him.

Including Katsuki. Especially Katsuki.

A part of him had expected as much; after all, the bitter taste of their earlier interaction in the gray hours of dawn still tainted the back of his tongue–and though the warm, floral hues of Izuku’s scent were a far cry from the rot and decay that had whittled through the his pheromones back then, the strong set of his jaw and the way scarred fingers twitched in his lap were enough to betray his apprehension with Katsuki.

It was something Katsuki should have known from the start. After everything, forgiveness wasn’t something to be given away so easily, so cheaply. Still, though–the longer Izuku stared straight ahead and sat motionless like an untouchable statue, the more Katsuki’s skin began to feel too small for his bones.

Omega, his alpha rumbled. Omega has come to me.

The beast within him had always been crude; basal in nature and ruled by the raw torrent of feral strength locked within him, Katsuki’s alpha made itself known through acts of dominance and displays of power. It was what had driven him to be such a formidable warrior. Ruthless and unrelenting–he stopped at nothing when it came to being the strongest.

And while it provided Katsuki with the tireless fire needed to excel in the craft of violence and warfare, it had also left him with an unshakeable need to stake ownership over the things that it had taken a shine to.

Katsuki had no choice but to learn how to fight his alpha’s wolfish nature early on–and while he had managed to fine-tune the delicate art of ignoring its demanding howls, there were times that even his brand of stubbornness couldn’t curb the beast’s appetite.

Being around Izuku Midoriya had always been the trigger-point to activate Katsuki’s alpha in a way that drove him halfway to madness. Even now, nostrils flared and every breath leaving his throat constricted over wildflowers and honey, something stirred within him.

It used to make bile rise in his throat. Made him want to shout to the sky in frustration and rage, to tear his teeth into something and feel the warmth of his kill. A danger is what he was; the lack of control he always felt in those moments made him turn his back and run, pushing Izuku away all the while.

But tonight, with the sky stained in rich hues of burnt orange and vibrant indigos against the twilight sun, Izuku was by his side, steadfast and defiant in a way only he could be. An omega with scarred hands that contrasted the delicate chiffon of his cloak–the only creature haughty enough to have captured the obsession of the alpha within Katsuki.

His eyes traced the outline of Izuku’s silhouette from his periphery–round and freckled cheeks, button nose, full lips–and as he followed the curve of Izuku’s lashes, Katsuki could only vaguely register the babble of the crowd as their attention diverted from the fated pair.

Chief Todoroki’s deep, booming rumble commanded the village people’s attention once more–but the words that left his lips were little more than a dull drone in the background for Katsuki.

As the seconds started to bleed into minutes, Izuku continued to remain completely motionless. The silence that often stretched between them had always been tense at best and borderline suffocating at its worst–and right then, Katsuki could feel that familiar sensation of discomfort crawling under his skin. It was as if the alpha within him, while placated by the pleasant aroma of wildflowers and honey, was shuddering in anticipation.

Omega beautiful, his alpha remarked with a pleased rumble. Praise, compliment, appreciate. Three words rattled through Katsuki’s mind instinctively–an urgent plea from his alpha.

Katsuki flexed his fingers as he lifted his cheek off of his fist, cracking the first three knuckles in succession. Words of affirmation rarely came easily to the alpha; after all the years he had spent basking in his belligerence, gritting out anything more than a grunt of acknowledgement left him reeling.

But the soft, seafoam hues accenting the warmth of Izuku’s freckled skin and the glittering jewels hanging against his verdant curls pulled at something inside of him–another tug at the thread he was beginning to grow intimately familiar with around his heart.

Katsuki knew the thought that left his secondary nature parched and hungry for more was a simple but terrifying one–that Izuku was breathtaking, beautiful in a way that no other omega could be. After everything that had transpired between them, the alpha reasoned, perhaps sparing a kind word to Izuku would melt a fraction of the tension that hung thickly in the air around them.

All he needed to do was tell him that the sheer material of his ceremonial clothing accented the freckles dusting over his sculpted shoulders nicely, or that the glittering facets of the ocean topaz settled amongst his curls brought out the green of his eyes.

Old habits, however, died hard.

Katsuki passed his tongue over the sharpened point of his incisor for another brief moment before his lips parted–and when he spoke, the brusque edge to his rasp left him with more bite than he intended.

“Since when d’you own clothes like that?” Katsuki didn’t have a chance to properly introduce his own foot into his mouth before a near-accusatory edge crept its way through his words.

Shit, that wasn’t what he meant to say. Katsuki flexed his jaw and cleared his throat with a low grunt before starting again, attempting to ignore the heat that burned at the tips of his ears. “—‘s fancy. Expensive.”

From the corner of his eye, Katsuki watched the way Izuku’s jaw tensed by a fraction—just enough for the column of his throat to tighten. It was the only crack in his facade of cool indifference—something that was starting to tread on the alpha’s nerves as the seconds ticked by. After all, the Izuku that he had known over the years wore his heart on his sleeves. His wide, doe-like eyes always betrayed every last emotion that swirled within him—and to see him so still, so motionless and unaffected by the fate that awaited him, was strange to say, in the least.

The scent of summertime wildflowers wilted ever so slightly, a sour pang of annoyance cutting through the lush sweetness of the omega’s pheromones.

Katsuki’s brows pinched together as he shot Izuku a sideways glance, lip curling with the muted hint of a growl itching at the back of his throat. His alpha reared its head, displeased by the sudden shift in the omega’s pleasant scent—but before Katsuki could bite out his gripe, Izuku cleared his throat.

”They’re Shoto’s, not mine.” His words were almost pointed, needling into Katsuki with subtle irritation. Izuku didn’t bother looking at him as he spoke, eyes still trained directly ahead—but as he swallowed back what Katsuki could only assume was a tired sigh of exhaustion, the curdled edge to his pheromones abated by a fraction. “It’s not like I had ceremonial robes pre-selected for this.”

There was a snide drawl coloring Izuku’s words—and before Katsuki could help it, his teeth clenched hard enough for the muscle in his jaw to jump visibly. He didn’t register the quiet, annoyed growl rumbling in his chest before it filled his ears—soft, but audible. He felt Izuku tense at his side, forcing the alpha to choke on the subtle betrayal of his own frustration.

Katsuki swallowed, trying to quell the way his alpha snapped its jaws the moment the omega next to him expressed even the slightest hint of his displeasure. Instead of firing back with an equally cutting, equally disparaging retort, he forced out a rumbling hum of half-hearted acknowledgement.

“Right,” Katsuki drawled out. He wasn’t sure how he expected Izuku to respond—but when the green-haired boy merely shifted in his seat to smooth out the chiffon of his cloak with no further elaboration, the heat burning at the tips of Katsuki’s ears grew hotter. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, red hues narrowed into ruby slits, before gritting his teeth.

Talking to Izuku had always been like pulling teeth—and now, between the stress of the festival, his dismal display of conversational skills earlier that morning, and the impending reality that they would be tethered together for the foreseeable future, the task felt even more insurmountable than it ever had before.

But then again, Katsuki Bakugou was far too stubborn, too bull-headed to let himself ever give up on a task. Catching Izuku Midoriya’s attention, he reasoned, was no exception.

After all—the image of those wide, green eyes brimming with tears still left his mouth bitter. To have Izuku look at him again was to overwrite the way the omega had looked at him like he was an enemy, a monster. It would just take some extra effort—which Katsuki knew he could do.

He was the strongest damn alpha this damn village had ever seen since Chief Yagi—and there was no reason to pretend otherwise. Whether Izuku embraced his secondary nature or not was irrelevant when it came down to it. All Katsuki needed was one chance, one opportunity, to get out what weighed on his chest.

Apologies never came easily to him—and though the words I’m sorry tasted like acid on his tongue, he swallowed down his unease and angled his head to the right. It was just enough for his burning gaze to rake over Izuku’s profile—from the dainty circlet settled in his curls down to the matching cuff that wrapped itself around his left wrist.

Better now than never.

Katsuki cleared his throat once more, this time with more deliberation. “Oi,” he started, voice dropping to a low mumble, “Deku. Before this shit gets too chaotic, I had somethin’ I wanted to say.” His words, despite being damn near docile, felt thick and clunky in his mouth. Like he’d choke on them at any given moment. He swallowed, trying fruitlessly to force down the tight lump in his throat. “About this morning…”

The moment carmine eyes flicked back up, he had half-hoped to see a verdant gaze peering back at him, or to hear the sound of his breath catching in surprise at the confession. Instead, as Katsuki lifted his head to search the omega’s expression, he found himself staring at Izuku’s profile. His brows were pinched and his eyes lowered, staring blankly down at the twitching hands resting in his laps, while his mouth moved to mutter soundlessly under his breath.

Katsuki blinked. With a flare of his nostrils, the alpha shifted in his seat to sit up straighter. “Oi,” he grunted again. “Deku.”

Another moment of silence broken only by the rustle of Izuku’s mumblings.

In spite of himself, in spite of all of the promises Katsuki had made to try and salvage what little was left of their splintered relationship, a spike of frustration left his skin feeling hot.

Izuku wasn’t listening–not only that, he was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he hadn’t registered Katsuki speaking at all.

“Tch,” Katsuki hissed out through gritted teeth, chin jutting out and lip curled back enough to reveal the tapered point of his canines. “You weren’t even fuckin’ listening. Of course,” a disbelieving scoff punctuated his rumbling growl, punched out with his frustrated irritation. “I dunno why the fuck I expected anything else. Fuckin’ Deku.”

And despite the fact that the last part of Katsuki’s hisses were muttered under his breath, Izuku startled long enough to shoot a pointed look of silent anger in the alpha’s direction. He exhaled a scoff of his own, brows pinching before he retorted.

“Excuse me?” He sounded almost defensive–and as if on cue, the lush scent of summertime rain and blooming wildflowers soured. “What did you say?”

The blonde choked on the first gulp of his curdled scent he inhaled, swallowing back the instinctive growl threatening to crawl its way up his throat. Katsuki felt the way his hand twitched against the gilded designs engraved into the armrest of his throne, fingers curling until his knuckles flexed.

After all, Katsuki was a warrior–and all warriors knew was to fight. Matters of the heart were another beast altogether–and though he had promised that he would honor the miracle Demeter had offered him in the form of a second chance, he found himself struggling to swallow down the sudden urge to snap his teeth in retaliation.

“Like it matters,” Katsuki rebuffed, a hint of a sneer cutting through his words. He gave a haughty sniff, as if the arrogance of the gesture would be enough to mask his wounded ego. “Not like you’re gonna listen. Too busy muttering under your breath like a fuckin’ freak, as always.”

From the corner of his eyes, Katsuki could see the way Izuku’s expression faltered; he blinked, mouth falling slack–almost as if he’d been caught in the act, caught red-handed. His mouth snapped shut, full lower lip wobbling ever so slightly as he did, before looking down at his hands. Calloused fingers looked suddenly out of place as they twisted through the soft, sheer material of his cloak. It took him a moment too long to gather his composure and when he spoke, his petulant mumble wavered.

“I–I know this is less than ideal,” Izuku started hesitantly, lowering his head just enough for his pinned veil to fan out and obscure his conflicted expression from the crowd’s view, “but can we please just go five minutes without an argument?” The hushed plea lurking behind his exasperation immediately pulled at something within Katsuki’s insides.

The blonde swallowed, unsure of the answer Izuku was looking for. Everytime he tried to inhale, tried to drag oxygen into his lungs to help clear his muddled thoughts long enough to fight through his wounded pride, he nearly choked on the soured edge to Izuku’s pheromones.

His alpha’s pleased rumbles had fallen silent in the past few moments–but the second Izuku begged him for some sort of truce, the beast couldn’t help but whine in frustration. The sound felt foreign in Katsuki’s throat–sharp and sudden, needling through his insides when he tried to swallow it down.

Distress–that was the name of the unsettling sensation tightening in the pit of his stomach. Distress at the way the omega his alpha had imprinted on had to beg for anything at all. Distress that it was his own actions that had earned such a bitter edge of defeat to the omega’s natural scent.

Your fault, again. His alpha chuffed bitterly and Katsuki bit his tongue hard enough for the back of it to taste like iron. The longer the uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the more his secondary nature bucked in protest. The blonde felt his gums ache from the tension–and though he hardly knew where to even begin to help soothe the obvious discomfort Izuku felt, he forced his tongue to move and his lips to form something akin to human speech.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to start an argument.” He gritted the words out slowly and deliberately, forcing himself to keep his tone as even as he could manage.

“Right.” Izuku sounded small, like he had been reprimanded. “Sorry for assuming.”

Katsuki felt as if it was too late to restart his apology; the words were lodged in his chest, stuck against the inside of his ribcage. Izuku looked down again, that same pensive look that had settled over his features earlier returning.

“Spit it out.”

Izuku froze, nostrils flaring as his body stiffened. “Wh–what are you talking about?”

Katsuki couldn’t help the way his lips twisted into a muted scowl, a scoff escaping him.“You make this stupid face when there’s something bothering you. And you fucking reek.”

The stench of wilted wildflowers thickened suddenly. Izuku looked embarrassed, cheeks red and the familiar tremble to his lower lip returning long enough to disturb the carefully-curated facade of indifference he had donned since his arrival.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku whispered, voice falling to a quiet breath that fell from his lips with a certain level of shame. A full lower lip caught between his teeth as Izuku gave a small sniff. “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose…”

The smell of curdled milk and perishing flowers thinned out by only a fraction–as if the omega couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself from betraying the way Katsuki’s presence left him on edge. He turned his head, soft green curls bouncing from the movement, before reaching up to let calloused fingers fidget with the sheer material of his veil.

Red hues snapped over, tracing over the outline of scarred digits as they twisted and untwisted the fabric between them–an anxious tick, one that Katsuki recognized almost immediately.

Something in his chest ached. A part of him hated that he remembered the intimate details about the very boy he had chosen to abandon all those years ago–and as Katsuki swallowed back the bitter taste threatening to work its way up his throat, the only thing he could do was tear his gaze away.

The alpha within him rumbled in protest, twisting through his insides. All Katsuki could do was flex his fingers until they wrapped around the designs engraved into his throne’s armrest, knuckles running white and the ligaments threading through his hands standing prominent and raised.

He was foolish to think that Izuku would want to face him, would be receptive to anything he had to say. If his sour and bitter-tasting pheromones were anything, it was proof that the idea of being by his side was nothing short of some form of torture to the omega.

It made him ill; his stomach clenched, tight with a feeling he could only label as guilt. Katsuki gritted his teeth, grinding his molars hard enough that the muscles in his jaw felt ready to lock altogether.

The alpha didn’t realize that his own frustrations were leaking into the air, a raging forest fire and thick, heady musk mingling with Izuku’s unease to brew something noxious until the sound of the omega’s choked-up gag caught his attention.

Katsuki’s head snapped to the side, lips curling back enough to bare his teeth–as if the alpha within him was poised to strike at whatever it was that threatened Izuku. A growl rumbled in his chest but before he could speak, the omega wheezed petulantly with a quip of his own.

“I know you think I smell terrible,” Izuku forced out, his voice laced with a quiet groan as he turned his face away just enough to cover his nose with the chiffon of his cloak, “but you don’t have to oppress me with your pheromones like that.”

Katsuki didn’t mean to be a bad dog; he didn’t mean to snap his jaws and bristle at any inkling of resistance. There were even times that he wished to be tamed, to have the wild thing inside of him finally subdued–but like a sore muscle that needed desperately to be stretched, the alpha flared with anger at the lingering disdain in Izuku’s voice.

Where he had been fretting over the unease that Izuku felt in his presence, all the omega saw in him was a domineering brute instead of a man. He couldn’t help it–and like an old dog that couldn’t learn any new tricks, Katsuki snapped his jaws with a low snarl of frustration catching at the back of his throat.

“The fuck did you just say?”

This time, when Izuku clicked his tongue, there was something snide about it. “I said,” he breathed out slowly, “you don’t have to oppress me.” Izuku was careful to enunciate each syllable slowly and deliberately before he turned his head just enough to cast Katsuki a look of sudden defiance from the corner of his eyes. His chin jutted out petulantly in what Katsuki could only read as a challenge.

His skin grew hot–and just as it always did, Katsuki’s biting grit beat him to the punch before his mind could keep up.

“You are so fuckin’ difficult!” The words ground themselves out through his clenched teeth, head snapping to the side until burning reds raked over the omega’s profile. “I’ve done fuck-all to you since you got here!”

A muted scoff was all Izuku offered in response before he jerked his head away to avoid the heat behind the alpha’s glare. As if to stand his ground, the thick reek of sour milk invaded Katsuki’s nose. As he choked on the stench, Izuku muttered under his breath, “yeah, I know–you’re not the first person to call me difficult.”

“And you wonder why?” Katsuki snapped back with another hiss. Despite the way Izuku’s sour scent made him gag so hard he had to swallow down the way his stomach spasmed and how his alpha rumbled in protest at the evidence of distress hanging in the air, the white-hot spark of defensive anger flared enough to burn through him, regardless.

Just like this morning.

He flexed his jaw, trying to ignore the way his gums ached and a dull throb panged behind his incisors–as if the beast within him was threatening to break free. He forced himself to swallow down the frustrated growl rattling inside of his chest and gritted out instead, “All you do is mutter an’ argue. Shit. Can’t ever get you to shut the fuck up before you say some dumb bullshit.”

“Oh, I am so very sorry, Kacchan! Does my attitude upset you? Is it offensive?” Izuku’s sharp hiss damn near felt like a knife, digging between the tender flesh of the alpha’s ribs. Katsuki didn’t have a chance to snarl out a response before burning green eyes snapped over to finally meet carmines.

The conviction behind them, hot and angry, was unshakeable–steadfast, determined, stubborn as Izuku always was. As he continued, the sarcastic venom Izuku laced through his hiss was impossible to ignore.

“What are you going to do? Give me an Order?”

Katsuki’s jaw fell slack and his eyes grew wide. Whatever pointed retort the alpha had poised at the tip of his tongue died a swift death as his mouth grew dry.

The use of an Order by an alpha was once considered synonymous to law; in a time where alphas lorded over the weak, in a time before Demeter’s kindness upon Her children, they were often used liberally–and the more potent the alpha, the more gravity went behind the Order given. A command imbued with the very essence of an alpha’s most basal instincts to protect, own, and secure would deliver an Order–a binding demand that was impossible to deny or resist.

For the noble, it was a way to ensure protection for the pack. For the corrupt, it was another means to manipulate the masses.

As times changed and the sanctity of a connection between alpha and omega was nurtured, the use of an Order outside of mate-forged bond became a taboo. In some cultures, unprompted use of an Order could even be a punishable offense.

Musutafu didn’t deviate from tradition enough to consider the use of an unprompted Order to be a crime, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still considered impermissible, brutish, and backwards. For Izuku to look him in the eye and so brazenly sneer at him with the taunt of an Order being used against him was not only unprovoked, but bordering on blasphemous, as well.

So that’s what he thinks of me. The thought made his throat feel tight, made it burn when he tried to swallow down the shuddering rumble threatening to crawl its way out of his unhinged maw. An ass-backward alpha. An alpha no one could ever want–much less you. The realization tasted bitter on his tongue, like bile.

His alpha had fallen silent–but its residual essence was far from peaceful. His insides felt as if they had seized together, like every breath he tried to take got stuck in his lungs.

Katsuki flared his nostrils as he forced himself to suck a slow, steady breath deep into his lungs. The burning fire of his anger had subsided–and all that stood in its wake was a hollow emptiness that ate away at him from the inside out.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki gritted out. He had to force his voice to remain even, force his voice to keep from wavering with the warbled distortion of the unhappy rumble itching inside of his chest. “Fuck you, Deku. There’s no fuckin’ way a nobody like you could ever be my soulmate.”

Despite his best efforts, the last word that left Katsuki’s lips nearly buckled, tinged with something pained and vulnerable. Like it was something he could never attain, something he didn’t deserve to have.

The thick, acrid stench of a raging forest fire surrounded them–and in the quiet, uncomfortable stretch of silence that followed Katsuki’s icy words, Izuku’s eyes widened and the look of stubborn defiance that had rested upon his soft features dissolved into anxiety, instead.

The omega opened his mouth, almost as if he wanted to soften the blow of his words–but the moment his breath hitched and he choked over the acrid taste of the air, Izuku ducked his head and coughed into the thin chiffon of his cloak. His bare shoulders, visible through the sheer material, shook from the strain.

Katsuki tore his gaze away, teeth clenching together before he swallowed thickly. His red eyes were blank and unseeing as they gazed out upon the townsquare. The village people were rejoicing, laughing and sharing drink under the indigo skies–oblivious to the way their chosen ones wished to be anywhere but here.

It was only when Izuku had quelled the coughs racking his lean frame that he croaked out, “Don’t worry, Kacchan. If I can have my way, I won’t be your soulmate, at all.”

The alpha gritted his teeth and as his left hand twitched with discomfort, all he could do was growl quietly in frustration.

Demeter, give him the strength to survive the rest of the night.

—

The world was shattering. Splintered cracks webbed through the mountainsides, cleaving it into fractured pieces that rained down upon the village to crush everything in its wake.

The fields were wilting and the crops had perished; there was not a sign of life for as far as the eye could see. Every breath reeked of death and decay–as if life, itself, was no longer viable.

He looked up at the sky, praying to see the sun–but all that stretched high above his head was a never-ending void. Not a star nor a thread of light could be found.

The endless darkness shrouding the forest he once called home forced the shadows to look longer and larger–more frightening, like monsters that had finally came out to play.

This world… is nothing but a hollow shell of the one he yearned for–but no matter how far he ran, no matter how loudly he screamed, all that greeted him was chilling silence.

Skeletal branches and blackened wood were all that was left of the trees–a graveyard where life once thrived–and as he whipped past them, willing his legs to carry him faster and faster still, he found himself at the edge of the brook cutting through the heart of the forest.

Where fresh water frothed and babbled around the rocks jutting out from beneath the surface, there now was a river of thick, black ichor.

But it wasn’t the tar-like substance that left him frozen and rooted to the spot.

It was the silhouette of a boy standing motionless in the middle of it, the barrage of ichor-like waves threatening to pull him under its unbreakable surface.

The dark skies left the boy bathed in harsh shadows, grayscale hues and hollow features–but even then, he could make out the soft curve of freckled cheeks, the wild mane of tangled curls. Even then, he knew in his heart who the boy was.

He opened his mouth–he wanted to scream at him. He reached for him, begging him to come to the shore before the ichor dragged him beneath its blackened currents.

The boy’s unseeing eyes, sallow and empty in the darkness, gazed back at him. He couldn’t help but feel, though, as if the boy was looking through him more than anything else. Like the boy couldn’t see him at all. Like he didn’t exist.

He screamed again. Then one more time–louder still.

Hollow eyes blinked once–but not in recognition or acknowledgement. As the boy turned his face to peer over at him, all he could do was watch in horror.

Piece by piece, the boy began to dissolve, fading into the night until nothing remained. The stench of death and decay grew heavier–but before he could run forward and leap into the void-like currents to search for the boy, to bring the boy back to the realm of the living, a shock of pure, electrifying pain stabbed through his skull.

He fell to his knees, clutching his head as he doubled over. His screams left his throat raw and bloody–but it was futile. The pain only grew stronger and stronger still–until he was certain he would surely split apart at the seams and become nothing. Just like the boy that he had allowed to melt into the darkness–gone forever, where he could never touch him again.

Fingers curled into his scalp and he roared. His ears were deaf to his own shouts–and after what felt like an eternity, his body finally gave out beneath him.

As he laid upon the decayed forest floor and the darkness finally encroached upon him, She whispered:

“A blessing you don’t embrace will become a curse upon your heart.”

Chapter Text

The last dregs of Katsuki’s strength were all he had left as the call of dawn summoned him back to the mouth of the forest.

Exhaustion hung heavily upon him, leaving muscular shoulders sagging under its weight. Though the young alpha knew that the hunt that lay ahead of him was perhaps the most crucial one of his career as both a warrior and Demeter’s chosen one, he found himself barely able to wade through the thick haze addling his mind, leaving every last thought of his scattered and fraying at the edges.

The world felt far away, the voices of his team sounding murky and distorted—as if he was trapped underwater and the realm of the living and the breathing was nothing more than a distant dream that he couldn’t quite grasp.

He knew—he knew just how important a successful hunt was for both himself and for those who believed in their goddess’s good will. And yet, as he crossed the threshold of the village’s outskirts to trudge past the barren trees and venture deeper into the heart of the snow-coated forest, Katsuki felt the remaining shreds of his concentration unraveling.

First, it was a handful of young snow hares that bolted through the undergrowth the moment a twig snapped audibly underfoot. It was an amateur mistake, one that Katsuki wouldn’t have been caught dead making since he was little more than a fresh-faced apprentice.

Next, it was a fat pheasant with brilliant russet-flecked feathers that spread its wings with a startled caw and took off to the skies as an arrow sliced through the air, missing its target and lodging itself into the thick bark of a waiting tree. A hiss of frustration forced itself out through gritted teeth, brows pinched and carmine hues burning.

A mistake or two could be forgiven for most—after all, not everyone could be at their prime at any given moment, surely—but Katsuki Bakugou had never been the sort of alpha that allowed himself to settle for mediocrity.

Perfection was the only thing that he left room for in all of his endeavors—and with the honor of the village riding on his shoulders, bumbling about the forest like an apprentice that still smelled of his mother’s milk was not just disheartening, but an insult. After all of the accolades and praises he had garnered over his swift ascension to the top of the ranks, he couldn’t let one sleepless night upend all of the progress he had made thus far.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking—but as Katsuki squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring to let the heightened senses of his inner alpha pick through the faded scents lingering against the snow and the trees, he steeled himself with what remained of his dwindling determination.

The final straw came in the form of a lone doe, ears swiveling this way and that as its hooves pawed idly at the snow-laden ground. It’s soft, tawny pelt held flecks of white—and were it not for Katsuki’s honed skills as a hunter, he may not have even noticed the creature grazing through the shadows of the forest’s towering trees. It nosed lazily against a small patch of clovers that managed to survive the unrelenting cold of winter, gnawing at the thin fronds before snuffling forward to investigate further.

Katsuki inhaled a sharp breath, going deathly still. He could hear the sound of his men’s footsteps a few stone’s throws away—and before any of their bumbling footfalls could alert the animal of their presence, the blonde raised a fist in a silent command.

Almost immediately, he could sense three pairs of footsteps grow to an abrupt halt. The alpha could feel their eyes, watching him with sharp attention as they lowered themselves to their haunches. Concealed among the shriveled foliage, Eijirou, Denki, and Hanta waited dutifully for their leader’s next order.

The blonde alpha didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his lungs began to burn, forcing him to flare his nostrils and drag a slow inhale through them. He dropped his weight forward, skulking through the shrubs with the poised silence of a hunter—a wolf, stalking its prey with hungry red eyes and an unhinged maw.

Fingers flexed before they moved to grasp at the grip of the bow slung across his back, twisting until he pulled it into position with careful and measured movements. Another hand positioned his arrow—and as Katsuki drew in a slow, deliberate breath, he tilted his head and called every last hunter’s instinct left within him to summon the strength to secure his first kill of this dismal hunt.

He counted out the seconds one by one, not daring to breath as he watched the way the doe paused in her grazing to go still.

One.

The doe swiveled its right ear as it lifted its head with a small bleat of curiosity.

Two.

Katsuki adjusted his grip, pulling the bowstring taut as the nock of his arrow slid into place.

Three.

With a turn of its head, the doe hesitated. It placed one hoof forward and went still, as if considering its options. Perhaps it could feel the eyes of a hunter upon it, ravenous and insatiable, for the moment Katsuki’s fingers twitched to release his arrow, it bleated in fear and bucked.

”Fuck,” the alpha hissed as the animal startled, firing off his arrow a half-second too late.

The deer’s long and agile legs moved into action before the notched edges of his arrowhead could find purchase in its tender flesh. As the doe bucked, it twisted its thin frame and bolted through the undergrowth. All Katsuki’s wild red eyes could catch sight of was the soft white fur of the deer’s tail before it disappeared altogether, leaving the small clearing of trampled clovers still and silent all over again.

A tense beat passed before Katsuki gritted his teeth and broke the uncomfortable silence with a snarl, deep and feral. He jerked himself upright and before he could stop himself, hands shaking out of both frustration and anger moved to hurl his bow to the ground.

“Dammit!”

The echoes of his bellowing shout reverberated through the forest, sending a flock of roosting sparrows scattering against the pale dawn sky arching overhead. If he wasn’t so blinded by his rage, Katsuki may have noticed the looks of concern exchanged between his troupe of warriors.

His insides burned and the alpha within him howled, aggravated and dissatisfied with yet another kill that had slipped from between his fingers. Katsuki’s skin felt too tight for his bones, a familiar ache throbbing dully against his gums as the beast dwelling inside of him threatened to bare its fang and tear everything before him apart in penance for failing yet again.

“Hey, Bakugou—“

”What?” Katsuki spun on the heel of his boot as he spat out the word like it was venom, chest heaving from the low, heavy breaths he forced himself to drag into his lungs. His shoulders were squared and the burning heat behind carmine hues smoldered so brightly that as he swept his gaze over the three alphas, each one winced and shifted to take two steps back.

Eijirou, however, stood the tallest, His brows pinched together as he held his friend’s gaze. Undeterred as always, the red-haired alpha tried to find a way to reason with the wrath Katsuki was struggling to contain. It was only a matter of time before the deteriorating dam finally splintered and cracked altogether, unleashing the pent-up aggression of an alpha that had so much to prove and everything to lose.

”Maybe we should split up? I know you’re supposed to lead today’s hunt, but if we all go our separate ways, we can cover more ground and hopefully find more game—“

It was no secret that Eijirou was perhaps the only other warrior within their village that Katsuki respected enough to lend a listening ear to—and though the bull-headed stubbornness that often followed closely at the blonde’s heels prevented him from taking on matters in any way that deviated from his own plan for success, it was always Eijirou’s mild input that he heeded with as much grace and dignity a Katsuki could muster.

And yet, as the other alpha softened his scent into warm cinnamon in an attempt at soothing the prickling frustration leaving Katsuki’s own pheromones curdled and sour, his anger refused to falter.

”No,” Katsuki sneered out, lips curling back to bare his teeth in an instinctive show of dominance—a reminder that the alpha who called the shots wasn’t Eijirou, but him. “The fucking point of this god forsaken hunt is for me to bring the kills back to the village. Not my men. Me.”

The sigh that left Eijirou’s lips was the only sign that his endless patience was being tried.

“We know that,” he amended, rasping murmur growing quieter. He even bowed his head slightly, the subtle spice radiating off of him growing subdued to show his acknowledgement of his leader’s orders. The gesture, while subtle, was enough to placate Katsuki enough that his raised hackles began to relax and the rumbling growl vibrating deep within his chest began to abate. “And we respect that this is part of the courting ceremony, but—“ Eijirou cast a glance over his shoulder, brows pinched as surveyed both Hanta and Denki with mild concern, “—we haven’t had much luck so far and we don’t want this to backfire on you…”

Denki finally lifted his head up enough to clear his throat. “Yeah—listen, Bakugou, you’re the best hunter in our group, but we’re here to help you.”

”Damn right,” Hanta volunteered. The toothy grin he offered Katsuki didn’t quite reach his eyes the way that it always did. “I mean, you’ve already managed to hunt down…” As Hanta’s words trailed off, he shifted, using one hand to tug open the heavy burlap sack toted over his shoulder.

There was an almost awkward stretch of silence and though Katsuki had his back turned to his group of loyal alphas, he didn’t need to look carefully to know that the lazy smile Hanta had been wearing had twisted into a frown of disappointment.

The dark-haired alpha cleared his throat. “Uh… a rabbit.”

“Oh, dude, is it missing a foot? Is that why it couldn’t run away?” Denki’s astute observations were met with a sharp hiss from Hanta. A sharp yelp followed suit before the blonde inelegantly squawked, “hey, man, what the hell was that for?”

“Read the freakin’ woods, asshole.” Hanta, at the very least, had the sense to spare Katsuki some of his dignity in spite of his usually-lackadaisical attitude.

“I was just saying,” Denki lamented with a woeful whine of protest. “I mean, in a way, it’s good luck, right? Since it’s missing a, uh, rabbit’s foot.”

Katsuki felt his jaw clench, the growl rumbling in his chest threatening to rip from him in a proper snarl–but before he could whip around on his heel and stalk over to throttle Denki by his mangy throat for his ill-timed commentary, the familiar scent of thick, suffocating sandalwood settled in the air.

He clenched his teeth, gagging as he swallowed down the urge to choke. Eijirou, as he always did, stepped in before Katsuki could sink his bared fangs in for the kill. The subtle sweetness of cardamom that typically lingered in his pheromones had abated in favor of asserting himself with the thicker, muskier edge of his scent.

“Hey, everyone, stop. Bickering like kids and complaining isn’t very honorable alpha of us.” The reprimand in his voice left Eijirou sounding more stern than usual; his eyes were sharp as they surveyed over Hanta and Denki–who both had the sensibility to look properly scolded–before cutting Katsuki a look of warning.

Stand down, his gaze read. Take your loss with grace.

The muscle in Katsuki’s jaw jumped visibly as his jaw ticked as he bit back the rumbling sound crawling its way up his throat. He came to an abrupt halt, hands curled into fists so tight that his scarred knuckles ran white, and allowed his crimson gaze to lock onto Eijirou’s own. Katsuki could feel how his skull vibrated from the sheer force of his molars grinding together–and when he spoke, his words were bitten out.

“Eijirou’s right.” His rattling growl sounded more pained than it did reassuring. The look both Denki and Hanta shared in suspicion from where they stood was far less subtle than they thought–and though Katsuki felt the vein at his temple throb in annoyance, he forced himself to flare his nostrils to drag a slow, deep breath in an attempt at quelling his simmering anger. The alpha pressed on brusquely, each word rough and rasping. “Ain’t no use in arguing. If you guys wanna make yourself useful, then we’re gonna split up.”

Despite the callousness of his curt growl, all three of the other alpha’s lifted their shoulders with subtle smiles on their lips.

It was Eijirou who started first. “You got it, Bakugou. I’ll head south, cover the area closest to the lake. I bet there’s still some deer trying to get a drink down there!” He flashed a grin over his shoulder and though the blonde merely grunted in response, the familiar scent of spiced cardamoms filled the air.

“And I’ll go east!” Denki volunteered himself with his usual optimistic glee, his own scent lifting with notes of citrus and basil. Katsuki quirked a brow, casting him a mildly curious look as the other blonde offered a smile of his own, chest puffed up as he jabbed his own thumb into the center of it. “You can count on me to scout out the hills for any hiding rabbits!”

Hanta huffed out a grunt as he slugged the burlap sack over his shoulder once more, toothy expression hopeful as he gave Katsuki a steadfast salute. “Guess that leaves me to go back up north to see if we missed anything on our way down, huh? You can count on me, boss.”

With a flare of his nostrils, Katsuki pulled his shoulders back and stood tall at his full height. He lifted his head enough that his chin jutted out–but when carmine hues surveyed the three men standing before him, it wasn’t with reproach or displeasure, but newfound determination and trust.

The alpha’s hunt, after all, was a sacred rite; the third day of Demeter’s festival called for the chosen alpha to prove his chops by making an offering to his soulmate. The goddess of harvest demanded that Her people be well-fed and healthy to usher in prosperity with the coming year’s crops–and in a show of gratitude and humility for Her benevolence, it was the alpha’s responsibility to prove that he could provide.

On the dawn of the third sunrise after Her selection, the alpha would descend upon the forest with a hand-selected team of his choosing. He would lead his alphas and coordinate his hunt with nothing but his own wit and skill to direct them. Whatever was hunted, killed, and prepared by nightfall was to be offered to the chosen omega and their family before the village. It was an allegory for Demeter’s blessings, a ceremony honoring what it meant to be an alpha–a provider–and an omega–the protected.

Many argued that the third day was the most crucial to the alpha’s standing–a stripped reveal of exactly what he was capable of. To come before the village with meager offerings would lead to the swift death of an alpha’s reputation.

With little more than a lame rabbit to show for today, Katsuki had all but resigned himself to hours of frustration and anger beyond what his body could handle–but now, he stood before the three men that had stayed dutifully by his side from the beginning. From puphood to apprenticeships to fighting valiantly alongside one another with the title of warrior now under their belts–the three idiots Katsuki swore he had no patience for proved themselves to be not just valuable, but indispensable when he found himself backed into a corner.

Words of gratitude came to him as easily as words of apology–but that didn’t stop the blonde from giving an earnest nod of agreement, crimson eyes glittering with renewed vigor. Strong arms shifted to adjust the bow tucked against his back, ensuring it was secure before moving to instead wrap calloused fingers around the hilt of the dagger hanging at his waist.

“I’m going west..” Katsuki’s deft fingers unsheathed the glittering blade of his dagger. He turned before one swift movement of his wrist left the thick wood scored, deep and visible. “We meet here by highnoon,” he continued as he tucked the weapon back into its place. The alpha didn’t bother waiting for his team to verbalize their acknowledgement. Instead, Katsuki turned on the heel of his boot and squared his shoulder.

As his lips curled into a wild smirk with one last growl of anticipation, Katsuki rumbled, “let’s show those damn extras who the best fuckin’ alpha is.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ . ───

Katsuki was beginning to think that expecting the hunt to smooth itself over by splitting up had been wishful thinking.

His head still felt full of cotton, his thoughts as murky as muddied water as he attempted to wade through his mind. No matter how much the alpha tried to make sense of all the bullshit that had kept him from performing at his usual caliber of strength and relentlessness, he found himself at a loss.

As he picked his way through the undergrowth, he paid enough mind to keep his near-silent footsteps from treading on stray branches or snagging on any gnarled roots. The fact that he had failed to secure the young deerling from earlier left his annoyance still simmering despite his team’s best efforts to regroup and redistribute through the forest; it wasn’t like Katsuki to let such a prime piece of game slip from his fingers.

And yet, another flock of pheasants and a particularly large snow hare had managed to evade him. At the very least, Katsuki had managed to catch two freshwater salmon when he skirted past the edge of the river. It was a measly haul if one could even call it that and as the alpha eyed it, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

“For fuck’s sake,” the alpha gritted out through his clenched teeth, closing his eyes in an attempt at quelling the flickering embers of his frustration. The forest was still and quiet, silent enough that Katsuki could hear the roar of his own blood rushing in his ears, could hear the way his heart thumped harshly against the confines of his ribcage. If he listened close enough. he could even pick out the rumbling irritation of his alpha’s displeasure. Katsuki did his best to ignore it.

He swallowed and flexed his fingers around the hilt of his weapon before unsheathing it with a single flick of his wrist. “I need to keep moving,” Katsuki reminded himself, words muttered out under his breath. He flicked his gaze up at the sky, hissing out a slew of curses as he noted the height of the sun hanging against the brightening sky.

Katsuki didn’t have much more time—highnoon was only a few ticks away and he still had nothing to show for it. The thought alone was enough to sour the alpha’s scent, the subtle stench of rotting wood settling over him as he scanned his general vicinity. Katsuki clicked his tongue before swinging his head to the left, eyes narrowed as he weighed his options.

The further west he went, the closer he would be to the foothills. The gently rolling slopes could prove to be a better hunting ground than the barren woods at this rate. If Katsuki was lucky, he’d find a few unsuspecting tree squirrels, perhaps even a jackrabbit or a lone quail. If Demeter took enough pity on him, he might even stumble upon a black-tailed deer, oblivious and unaware to the hunter hoping to bring its hide back to his village.

The alpha gave himself a quiet grunt as he mentally mapped out the last leg of his trek. At least this way, Katsuki reasoned, the collection of his hunted game would have more variety than the usual day-to-day helping. Even if he couldn’t best his usual record in terms of number, he could shine with the unique assortment of meat he had to offer.

Deft fingers moved to twirl the dagger held between them and as Katsuki gathered the last of his concentration, he braced himself for the trek to the foothills fringing the edge of the forest.

With limited time, he needed to make haste. If he moved quickly—

“Y’know, I was starting to wonder how long you were going to sit out here sulkin’ like a lost puppy.”

Katsuki froze. That voice. That trilling, mocking, overly annoying voice.

If he weren’t in such a rush to ensure that his hunt didn’t fall apart before it was even finished, Katsuki may have resorted to violence—but his time was both precious and limited, so he settled for a hiss ground out through clenched teeth as he turned slowly on his heel to sweep a critical gaze up at the treeline.

And sure enough, perched upon one of the highest branches, was the very creature that Katsuki was certain to be responsible for the lack of prey scuttling about on the forest floor.

A pair of glittering golden hues stared down at him along with a smile full of teeth.

Hawks may have learned how to walk like a man and talk like one, too, but as he balanced high among the skeletal branches of the barren trees of winter, iridescent red wings unfurled to block out the pale glow of the early morning sun, he looked far more like a monster than anything else.

”So that’s why every damn animal in this fucking forest ran for its life,” Katsuki drawled out, his voice low and measured. “There was a fucking predator lurking around. You cost me a fucking deer, you bird-brained bastard.”

A laugh of amusement bubbled from Hawks’s lips as his mouth curled with mirth. “Nah,” he amended, taking a brief moment to puff his thick feathers as he ignored the obvious annoyance lingering in the alpha’s rattling growl, “you just suck. I only got here a few minutes ago. Whatever kill you lost out on was all you, kid.”

The muscle in Katsuki’s jaw jumped visibly as he bit back an irritated sneer. “Keep talkin’ shit and you’re gonna end up as a part of my haul,” the alpha snapped.

He didn’t need to look to know Hawks wore a smirk; it was all but audible in his lilting voice. “Oh, now is that anyway for Demeter’s so-called Chosen One to address his loyal subjects?” His lazy purr was cloyingly sweet, bordering on saccharine.

Katsuki scoffed, eyebrow twitching as he turned pointedly on his heel to leave his back to the hybrid surveying him from the top of the trees. “Yeah, whatever. The fuck are you even doing out here?” He counted how many arrows he had left in his crossbody bag before adjusting the hilt of his dagger at his waist once he had finished sheathing it. “You know today’s the day of my hunt. No other warriors are supposed to be out here.”

”Aw, don’t tell me you don’t remember what the Chief said during our morning debrief.”

The vein at Katsuki’s temple pulsed angrily. He gritted his teeth and swallowed thickly in an attempt at holding his snarl of frustration at bay. Truth be told, disjointed flashbacks and nonsensical images of the nightmare that had left him both sleepless and exhausted had left the alpha’s mind so hazy and fogged-over that the daily briefing session Chief Todoroki held prior to the crack of dawn had hardly registered.

He vaguely recalled talks of extra patrols being held over the western border—something about them being scented by foreign alphas or another—and sick livestock that needed to be tended to in order to prevent the illness from spreading. The specifics, however, were beyond his grasp.

Not that he’d ever give Hawks the satisfaction of being right.

Instead, he sneered and spat out his words in a way he hoped would end the conversation in its entirety.

“Didn’t realize the Chief’s debrief meant you’d be skulking around the woods.” He rolled his eyes and conducted one final sweep to ensure he hadn’t left any necessary equipment laying around to be left forgotten. “I don’t have time to waste right now, so if all yer gonna do is be an ass, I’m leaving. I have better things to do.”

The brusqueness of Katsuki’s tone was met with an inflectionless drawl that could leave even the most war-hardened warrior with blood running cold in their veins.

”I’m here with a message. One I don’t think you want to ignore.”

Katsuki froze once more—though this time, it was out of apprehension rather than frustration. His head turned, slow and deliberate, until he met the golden eyes piercing into him from over his shoulder.

The blonde was known for being hot-headed. He was impulsive—but his volatility often went forgiven due to the fact that each of his actions held a level of pragmatism that always served in his favor. Katsuki’s raw strength was an innate gift, but his knack for both strategy and tactical intelligence had come from years of cultivation. While he had excelled in his apprenticeship, he had also learned a number of lessons the hard way, too.

One of said lessons was that ignoring Hawks when he came bearing a message would never bode well for those involved.

As Katsuki turned to face him, the annoyed crease between his brows smoothed over as his expression took on a neutral edge. He lifted his head to meet Hawks’s gaze—and as half-lidded golds burned into him in a way only a raptor’s gaze could, the alpha felt himself tense.

Hybrids were rare in today’s world; legends and myths regaled by village elders proclaimed that there was once a time when creatures that wore the face of man but the body of an animal flourished in their numbers, nearly overtaking humans in their own land. The truth of their origins were shrouded in mystery; some claimed that hybrids were the bastard spawn of vengeful gods and goddesses, banished to the realm of the living for their grotesque nature. Others believed that hybrids were the bridge between the mortal and the divine, even regarded as oracles by certain cultures.

They were hunted for their elusive natures, butchered and sold like livestock. Their numbers dwindled—and soon enough, they became seemingly extinct. Rogues and barbarians continued to hunt for them, though, and if the rumors Katsuki had heard during his apprenticeship were true, there were even guilds that specialized in the illegal trading of captured hybrids, as if they were nothing more than tokens and objects rather than living, breathing creatures.

Katsuki hadn’t been born when Hawks was first brought to Musutafu—but he had heard the stories of a small, golden-haired boy with beautiful red wings trapped in a cage, brought to the newly-minted Chief, Enji Todoroki, as an offering to sanctify his ascension to the top of the village’s ranks. The boy couldn’t speak in tongues decipherable by humans, merely able to click and chirp and hiss as a raptor would.

Chief Todoroki, despite being cruel in his ways as a warrior, wasn’t as abhorrent a leader as the village elders once suspected him to be—and when his eldest son threw a tantrum of the highest caliber, demanding that the pretty bird be freed from his cage, he relented.

From that point on, the boy was given the name Hawks—and as the years passed, the frightened hybrid that had been all but sold to the village matured into one of the most terrifying warriors the people of Musutafu had ever seen.

Some had dubbed him with the moniker Angel of Death–and even those lined up amongst Chief Todoroki’s ranks knew better than to cross the line of Hawks’s rather generous patience. His demeanor had always been easy going by nature, passive enough that most of his commentary came in the form of sly jokes and witty asides rather than pointed critiques–but no one dared to wake the sleeping beast within him.

Katsuki had only ever witnessed Hawks descending upon the battlefield once before, in the early days of his apprenticeship. He was joined by Eijirou, Hanta, and Denki, standing dutifully behind Chief Todoroki as they stood in wait for the signal to begin their insurgency upon the camp of rogues squatting on their land.

It was Touya who led the battle back then, summoning his own troupe to spearhead the campaign. The eldest heir to the Todoroki bloodline stood tall and foreboding–but most startling of all was the winged beast settled upon his left shoulder. All Touya needed to do was utter the words Hawks, go before all hell broke loose.

Carnage beyond what Katsuki could have ever fathomed was all that remained by the time he and the other young alphas were summoned to pick off the stragglers attempting to flee the destruction. Bodies had been turned inside out, spilling blood and entrails until the ground had turned scarlet and it reeked of iron. The blood curdling screech of an eagle pierced through the air–and all Katsuki had to do was tilt his head back and watch with wide eyes as the man named Hawks dove down to the earth with his wings tucked close to his back, talons extended and lips curled back to reveal the pointed teeth of a true hunter.

All Katsuki could do was watch–watch as curved talons tore into flesh, as ribcages were split open and carcasses began to amass upon the red-stained earth. He had seen the horrors, the misery, that could come from the receiving end of sprawling red wings and sharpened teeth. He had seen what it was that Hawks was capable of–and the realization that all of this was in the name of protecting the village Katsuki had grown up in didn’t instill fear within him, but respect.

Hawks was loyal, having been raised under the Todoroki’s watch all his life–and for someone who shouldn’t respect mortals after all the awful things they surely did to him when he was little more than a hatchling, he was steadfast in fighting alongside the alphas who fought for Musutafu’s honor. While both fresh-faced and veteran warriors alike knew that Hawks would fight by their side, very few dared to try and get to know him beyond the veneer of sarcasm and wit he donned like a second skin.

Earning his personal favor was a feat reserved for few–and despite his belligerence and callousness, Katsuki and Hawks had formed an unconventional dynamic that consisted of mutual ribbing in exchange for steadfast trust when the situation called for it.

And right then, the flat and dry tone coloring Hawks’s words was enough to set Katsuki on edge.

The tension held tight within Katsuki’s broad shoulders only grew more taut as he flared his nostrils. He straightened his back and tilted his head, meeting Hawks’s gaze directly this time. When Katsuki parted his lips to speak, his voice was low and hushed, heavy with reluctance.

“What’s wrong?”

Hawks extended his left wing, allowing it to unfurl into its full breadth. With the sun’s light blocked behind it, the dark shadow of his silhouette reminded Katsuki exactly why their enemies bowed before them. The alpha narrowed his eyes, studying the way his primaries extended to point west.

“I was out taking a sweep over the western border, right against the foothills close to the forest’s edge. After what Chief Todoroki told us this morning, I figured I’d loop around on my own before the afternoon patrols, just to be safe.” Despite the subtle croon that stretched over the word just, the droning inflection of Hawks’s voice made the hair on the back of Katsuki’s neck stand on end. He braced himself as the other continued, “and he was right. Foreign scents galore, some even deep enough to catch the outer trees of the forest.”

Hawks narrowed his eyes, sunlit pools reduced to glowing chips of amber, sharp as a blade and twice as cutting. He was being intentionally roundabout–and though unnecessary fluff often irked him, Katsuki found himself grateful that Hawks hadn’t said the obvious out loud.

There were intruders–and they were close.

Katsuki felt his throat grow dry. He tried to swallow before he gritted out, low and reluctant, “how often do you think they’re being scented by… outsiders?”

Glittering golds studied Katsuki in steadfast silence for what felt like an eternity. The agonizing seconds ticked before Hawks drew in a slow breath. “The scents I picked up this morning weren’t exactly stale,” he mused out, careful and deliberate with his words. “The freshest scents could have been timestamped as recently as the middle of the night before.” Another pregnant pause before he pressed on, “and there were layers of older scents masked under the most recent marking. It’s almost as if…”

“... They’re patrolling in intervals when all of our warriors have reconvened in the village.” Katsuki finished Hawks’s sentence for him, each word laced with the rumbling remnants of a muted growl.

The hybrid inhaled through flared nostrils, one hand reaching up to card through a halo of golden locks. “Either they have a camp nearby,” Hawks drawled out, tone flat and dry, “or they’ve already made it into our territory and are trying to throw us off by letting us believe they haven’t crossed the threshold yet.” Both options were grim and judging by the chilling silence that followed Hawks’s words, he could only hope for the former.

“Shit,” Katsuki hissed, brows pinched together as he bit into the inside of his cheek. He didn’t have time to forsake the hunt–failing to deliver on his duty to their goddess would only incite annoyance within the village. Something no one needed, especially not Chief Todoroki, with the threat of barbarians lingering on the horizon.

But if Hawks’s words were anything to go by–which Katsuki knew, logically, they were–then someone trained to fend off any lingering enemies should make a round of it, immediately. His grip flexed around the hilt of his dagger as he tried to muddle through his options–but before he could come up with something, anything, that could be viable, thick red wings stretched wide as the hybrid cleared his throat to jerk the alpha’s attention back onto him.

“And another thing.” Katsuki couldn’t imagine how this could possibly get worse. “A certain omega with a penchant for trouble is wandering about up ahead. By the rivers. Rather close to the foothills, I’d even say.”

The world went silent, static white noise buzzing in his ear drums as the words leaving Hawks’s lips settled over him.

He was numb–but only for a brief moment, a fleeting breath, before his frozen heart kickstarted to action. It pumped violently against his ribcage and as he dragged a jagged breath into his lungs, ignoring the way it left him feeling as if he had swallowed a handful of needles, the voiceless world around him gave way to something else entirely.

A howl. Deep, guttural, ferocious. It burned with the intensity of a raging forest fire, thick and suffocating, leaving nothing behind in its wake but ash and scorched earth. Its crescendoing roar left Katsuki’s bones shaking, leaving his skin feeling far too tight, like he’d tear apart at the seams.

He didn’t register the dull thud of his burlap sack, burdened only by the meager haul of freshwater salmon, against the snow. He didn’t think about the way he turned on his heel and lunged forward to tear his way through the undergrowth, leaving Hawks behind and his ears still ringing.

He didn’t stop to think about why the thought of him in harm’s way lit a burning fire within his chest, or how

Least of all, Katsuki didn’t realize it was his own alpha who had howled–that no one but him had heard the anguished snarls of a beast driven by the animal instinct to protect.

Chapter Text

The frigid winter air burned his chest with every ragged inhale he dragged into his lungs.

Twigs and low-hanging branches whipped against his face but as Katsuki tore through the undergrowth, he hardly felt the sting. He could hardly even register the sound of his feet pounding against the snow-packed ground as his panicked jog escalated into a sprint.

The alpha couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his own heart as it throbbed violently in his ears and rattled against the inside of his skull. He panted with every burning breath but even then, Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

He wasn’t sure what it was that had pushed him, what exactly it was that had made his heart go still before it had dropped into his stomach–but Katsuki didn’t have time to think, to dwell on the way his body had moved on its own.

With every pump of his heart, pure adrenaline coursed through his veins. Katsuki could feel how his head was spinning, how the world around him flashed by so quickly that he couldn’t even begin to think about how fast he was moving–but his legs carried him with the relentless vigor of a wolf on its hunt. Unyielding, unrelenting, and unstoppable.

Despite it all–the icy wind burning his chest with every ragged inhale, the stinging cuts webbing his cheeks from the branches whipping by, the wild pounding of his heart against his ribcage–Katsuki couldn’t make sense of anything at all.

How could he, when all he could hear was the echoing howls of his alpha in his own head, demanding and urgent?

Weak, it snarled. Unprotected. Vulnerable.

For a brief moment, Katsuki’s mind flickered through a menagerie of images–a reel of memories that he had long since thought were buried and gone.

Two pups–tumbling through a meadow of billowing fronds and wildflowers with joined hands, lying beneath the stars as the fireflies winked against the star-speckled sky, whispering promises to one another beneath the watchful gaze of a weathered oak tree.

Two pups that once had it all.

Two pups that were going to grow strong together–for the rest of their lives.

Those fleeting moments were reminiscent of a time when things were simpler, when Katsuki still had his bearings and Izuku wasn’t a stranger he had torn down with his own hands until there was nothing left.

A time before Katsuki had allowed those very words–weak, unprotected, vulnerable–to tear him apart at the seams.

The young alpha had spat them out like they were poison, hissing them out at Izuku like he hadn’t tasted anything more foul before. Back then, he couldn’t fathom the gravity of the sentiment, how his alpha’s disjointed rumblings held more to them than what met the eye. He waited too long to reach towards the beast inside of him–and when he had finally made peace with its harsh growls, it was too late.

He burned their bridges until nothing remained but the ashes of their childish naivety, dead and gone. Hoping for something to rise from the scorched remains of their former relationship was a fruitless endeavor. Phoenixes were made from myths and folktales—and praying for new life from the destruction Katsuki had left with his own hands felt almost foolish.

The village celebrated him and his victims cowered before him, but no matter where he went, no matter where Katsuki looked, he knew that he wouldn’t find a wide, verdant gaze he instinctively sought out of the crowds. Where there was once a time when all Izuku could do was toddle behind him with eyes full of wonder, the omega was nowhere to be found.

And it was all his fault.

His alpha howled once more–hollow and full of grief, like his beast was in mourning.

Even with Demeter’s guidance, Katsuki found himself at odds. Every time he found himself gathering his nerves and sorting through his words, Katsuki only ever stumbled. For a man who loathed failure, he had grown far too adept at it when it came to the enigma that was Izuku Midoriya.

She had gifted him with Her will, paving a way to run after the omega that had escaped him all that time ago–but the damage was too deep, too far gone.

Izuku only ever looked at him like he brought nothing but destruction and hardship wherever he went. Like he was a plague, an oppressor–something so unlovable and undesirable that being around him alone was enough to leave his pheromones sour with distress.

Katsuki had no one to blame but himself–but as Toshinori’s words came back to him, echoing in his mind over the roar of blood rushing in his ears, he felt himself choke.

“When you can learn to accept what’s in front of you, things you didn’t understand before will become clear.”

Katsuki had been the one to push Izuku away.

He hurt him, tore him down, made him feel like he was worth little more than the dirt that clung to the bottom of his boots–and he couldn’t accept the consequences of it. Every time Izuku looked at him with his lip trembling despite the defiance in his gaze, Katsuki found himself slipping back into the familiar heat of his rage–because anger was far easier to stomach than guilt.

After everything, Katsuki knew he had no claim, no right to Izuku’s kindness–and the sooner he accepted it, the better.

Despite it all, despite the pain of the truth, the alpha within him was far too stubborn to bow its head in defeat. Izuku, the boy that the core of his true nature had chosen so long ago, may have turned his back on him, but that meant nothing to a beast.

Especially not one that stopped at nothing to win. Victory was in Katsuki’s blood–and even now, even with the gaping void that existed between them, his alpha refused to fail at its instinctive need to protect.

There was no other choice left for him than to run.

As Katsuki dragged another breath into his tightened lungs, chest expanding and muscles burning in protest, the alpha within him honed in on the fleeting notes of blooming wildflowers and earthy summer rain lingering in the frigid air underneath the sourness permeating the ai.

He’d know that scent anywhere–even in death, his alpha howled. Even when there was nothing left.

He hardly registered the way his body veered sharply to the left, feet pounding against the snow until the trees whipping by began to thin as the beast within him clung to the fading echoes of his scent.

Katsuki flared his nostrils. The poise and quick-footed agility he had honed hunter was all he had left to rely on as he wove through the bushes and shrubs littering the snow-trodden ground—but as he glanced wildly this way and that for any trace of the omega that had triggered the primal urge to run, something pungent bathed his tongue.

It was sour and harsh—overpowering the delicate, sheer sweetness of blooming flowers beneath the summer sun. Katsuki gagged, a low growl of frustration crawling its way out of his throat before he spat out a curse under his breath.

He couldn’t tell what that scent was.

The scent of a foreigner? An alpha from the pack of rogues that was trying to test their limits?

It was convoluted and muddled—and the further the blonde pushed towards the edge of the forest, the less sense it made. Each sharp breath Katsuki drew into his lungs made him gag with the wave of sourness that seemed to permeate the air anytime he thought he had caught another fleeting breath of wildflowers and summer rain. It overlapped with the lingering sweetness, tessellated until it made the trail of his scent come to a dead end all over again.

Like the source of the stench had been following the same trail, too.

Though his sleeplessness and malcontent since the first night of the ceremony had finally started to get the better of him during the early morning debriefs, Katsuki had been vigilant enough to zero in on the more important details of the warriors’ responsibilities.

Hawks’s warning wasn’t to be taken lightly–not when the number of times the War Chief ordered Katsuki and the other warriors to reinforce the scent-markings on their borders seemingly doubled overnight.

The foreigners were treading dangerously close–and though their deliberate scenting strayed on just the other side of their borders, their conservativeness wasn’t a sign of caution.

It was a threat.

A well-timed first move can dictate the course of a battle–timeless advice that Toshinori had imparted upon Katsuki and his troupe during one of his scattered visits during their apprenticeships.

It would only be a matter of time before the tide would turn and the tipping point was finally reached–and what better way to make a statement than to pluck away one of the most vulnerable of their kind? An omega wandering aimlessly without a care in the world?

Katsuki had learned how to hunt the same way a bird learned to fly–and that meant he knew exactly how easy it was to stalk prey in silence, moving with the fluidity of a predator poised to strike when the time was right.

It only made the anxiety within him swell, adrenaline pulsing through his veins until he lunged through the last strip of undergrowth with a snarl on his lips.

The pale gray glare of the morning sun was nearly blinding as the branches arching high overhead vanished the moment Katsuki broke free from the edge of the forest. He hissed, vision blurring white hot–and though the alpha squinted, gritting his teeth and thrashing his head this way and that to make sense of his surroundings, his animal instincts were able to hone in on the blurred shadow of a huddled figure.

Its darkened outline stood out against the stark white of the snow, a shaded blot that only stoked the source of the alpha’s growing adrenaline.

Katsuki felt his jaw unhinge as a snarl ripped from his throat, guttural and feral. The words that left him felt far from human even to his own ears–like the battle cry of a wolf primed to sink its teeth into the throat of its enemy.

“Can’t get away from me now!”

Their bodies collided and the last, fleeting bits of oxygen left within his lungs were knocked out of him as he tackled the figure.

He barely managed out a grunt before they tumbled to the ground, a flurry of snow flying into the air as Katsuki shifted his weight to take advantage of their momentum. The creature trapped within his grip thrashed–and as their tangled bodies skidded against the snow hard enough to leave Katsuki biting back a strained hiss of pain, it cried out in protest.

The sound was sharp and pitched–bordering on distressed–and the moment it rang gratingly against his ears, Katsuki tensed.

That wasn’t the roar of an enemy alpha.

The burning flame of his alpha’s primal rage wavered–but he had little time to react as their mess of twisted limbs rolled in the snow. Before Katsuki could shove himself back and gather himself to his feet, the creature flashed out an elbow with enough force to strike him in the side of his head, forcing the alpha to choke on a snarl of mingled pain and annoyance. The blow was hard enough to scatter his rational thoughts, ears ringing and his head spinning.

Katsuki gave a brisk shake of his head and bared his teeth with a furious snarl–and as the dark splotches from the impact began to finally dissipate, the alpha found himself straining to look through a thick haze of pure red.

This creature was smart. In the fleeting moments where Katsuki’s strength faltered and his vision wavered, another elbow jabbed into the center of his chest.

The blonde choked out a strained gasp, eyes going wide as his jaw fell slack from the harsh, aching pain that bloomed from his sternum, radiating through him until the muscles in his limbs twitched. It wasn’t forceful enough to knock him back, nor was it enough to make him even stumble, but in that split second, his grip fell slack.

In an instant, the figure broke free from his grasp and braced to dart free from where it had been pinned beneath him.

Katsuki snarled, unable to fend off the humiliated stench of rotted wood that permeated the air as the realization that the thing he had been hunting had overpowered him enough to escape began to sink in.

The alpha within him howled in fury. Only moments earlier, it had hesitated as the shrillness of the creature’s shriek pulled at something within him–but now, he had no time to think or consider why his insides had squeezed together in discomfort.

He was a beast with a score to settle. An alpha like him wouldn’t be bested in a fight of tooth and nail–not when there was so much more at stake, so much more riding on it.

Omega, in danger. Win to save omega. Win to protect him.

Katsuki flipped back onto his knees, poising himself on his haunches. He could feel how his gums ached, the threat of his alpha’s fangs throbbing dully just beneath the surface, and as a low, heavy growl rumbled from the center of his aching chest, the alpha narrowed his eyes to strain through the haze of crimson.

As slitted pupils darted this way and that to track the blurring shadow of the figure as it attempted to tear free from him and make a run for the foothills in the distance, the alpha sneered and flashed out a hand to grab at their ankle before it could lunge forward.

“Like hell,” Katsuki spat, “I’d let yer ass get away from me that easy!”

Another shrill squeal pierced through the air and as nails scrabbled uselessly at the snow, Katsuki snapped his jaws and reared his head back. He dragged the creature down closer to him, flipping their weight with rough hands before he dropped to his haunches. He snarled with snapping teeth and guttural rumbles–and despite the dull pain throbbing at his temple and in the center of his chest, the alpha doubled down.

Slitted pupils, driven by a predator’s instinct to devour, were suddenly blown wide, dilated until only a thin ring of burning scarlet remained. The shallow light of the winter sun blinded him yet again, cutting through the red-tinted haze that had driven him so far. His eyelids burned with each blink–but after one, two, three, the world slowly came back into focus.

Katsuki tilted his chin and clenched his jaw, curling his lip back enough to bare his teeth in a warning growl–but when his burning carmine gaze honed in on the figure heaving for breath beneath him, he felt his eyes widen and his heart lurch to grinding halt.

Wild, green eyes with blown pupils. A constellation of freckles that dusted over snow-bitten cheeks. Soft features hardened with lips curled back and teeth bared despite the way hands shook around the hand-carved wood of a hilt.

… And the kiss of a blade against the side of Katsuki’s neck, poised where his pulse raced wildly.

Izuku.

Izuku fucking Midoriya was sprawled out beneath him with his cheeks red from overexertion and a trembling hand holding a dagger to his throat.

For a moment, the silence felt deafening—a thick and suffocating smog that left Katsuki choking on every breath. A maelstrom of emotions whipped through him with enough force that his head was left reeling.

The fear, the anxiety, the adrenaline-infused vindication that had spurred Katsuki on thus far dissipated in an instant and in its wake, he felt an anger so hot that it left his skin feeling too tight for his bones. The alpha’s pheromones curdled in kind, the stench of rotted wood gave way to a raging forest fire, burning everything in its wake until nothing but acrid smoke was left.

Katsuki didn’t gave Izuku a moment to catch his breath, didn’t give him a spare second to gather his bearings enough to protest, before he growled.

“What the fuck are you doing out here, Deku?” The alpha flashed out a calloused hand, snatching a trembling wrist in an unforgiving grip. A breathless yelp followed before the blade pressed to the side of Katsuki’s neck clattered dully into the snow. He ignored the sound, instead curling his lip to bare his fangs as he loomed over the trembling, wide-eyed omega.. “Are you fucking stupid?”

“I–Kacchan! Get off of me!” The sound of his nickname on his lips made his stomach twist painfully, like Izuku had pushed his blade deep into him and twisted the dagger at the hilt. Once said with adoration and reverence, it now felt like a curse—one that left his heart lurching.

Katsuki nearly choked on his tongue before he sneered, “no! Fuck you, you damn nerd!” Izuku flinched, as if Katsuki had struck him–and though he felt his stomach clench nauseatingly at the sight, the alpha swallowed it down and forced out a growl through clenched teeth. “Think you’re so damn smart! Do you know where the hell you are?”

“I said get off of me!”

“Like hell!” The alpha snapped. “The last thing I’m gonna fuckin’ do is let you go, considering your know-it-all ass is just gonna get up an run–” The slew of curses balanced on the tip of Katsuki’s tongue were cut off with a sharp wheeze, however, the moment Izuku flailed and drove his knee directly into Katsuki’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.

Katsuki should have known better, should have anticipated that the source of his endless ire and frustration would refuse to go down without a fight.

He choked and sputtered, rearing back with an annoyed snarl. Izuku didn’t hesitate, taking advantage of his slackened grip to twist his lithe frame and dart out from where Katsuki had him pinned against the snow. The alpha groaned, falling back onto his ass with an undignified sound as a hand clutched at his middle section.

“You fucking bastard!” Katsuki’s growl, despite its rasping sneer, held an almost petulant edge to it as eyes narrowed into hard ruby slits. “Think you’re so much fucking better than me? I oughta teach you a lesson for being such an annoying shit. These borders are fucking dangerous! It ain’t some fuckin’ playground for you to skip and frolick in, you hear me? You better get your ass moving back towards the village before I personally–oi! Are you even listening to me?”

The exasperation in Katsuki’s voice echoed around them, but much to the alpha’s chagrin, Izuku kept his back turned to him as that pungent stench continued to linger in the air. Katsuki felt his anger simmer under his skin once more, leaving his own pheromones as acrid as a forest fire.

“Oi!” Katsuki barked out once more, watching as the omega hoisted himself up onto his feet and trudged further and further away from him. Izuku paused every few steps to paw furiously through the snow only to click his teeth together in a chitter of frustration. His shoulders began to shake the longer the omega ignored him–and before long, his hands were balled into tight fists at his side.

With an ill-tempered growl catching in the back of his throat, Katsuki straightened and squared his shoulders. Every breath he inhaled through flared nostrils only fueled the annoyance simmering within him and as he stomped closer, he could feel his hackles begin to bristle.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve, ignoring me like that,” he growled out through clenched teeth. Katsuki came to a halt when he was only two steps away from Izuku, arms crossed over his chest with a glowering expression resting over sharp features. With his head tilted back and chin jutted out, Katsuki glared down at him. He gave the omega a moment to respond–and when he was met with another stretch of frigid silence, Katsuki scoffed in disbelief. “What the fuck are you even doing?”

Even through the smog of sourness that permeated the air, Katsuki could pick out the spike of wilted flowers of Izuku’s own irritation. The alpha had half-expected to be met with continued silence or perhaps a muted quip to be left alone–but when Izuku parted his lips to speak, his razor-sharp hiss bordered on accusatory.

“Trying to salvage all the herbs that I foraged this morning, no thanks to you.” Izuku planted both hands into the snow and pushed himself up into a sitting position, knees folded under him as burning greens threw a glare up at Katsuki from over his shoulder. “You knocked my basket right out of my hands, and now I’ve lost pretty much everything.” This time, Izuku’s voice wavered.

The moment his lower lip wobbled, Katsuki had to swallow down a groan of exhaustion. He tore his gaze away from Izuku’s own, but as his eyes wandered, they lingered on the way one of the omega’s hands was curled into the snow, knuckles running white. Pinned between the slush on the ground and his palm was a meager bushel of thin, spindling roots.

His brows knitted together and as Katsuki glanced beyond Izuku’s huddled figure glaring pointedly up at him, he could make out a few scattered shocks of green and brown dotting the blanket of white coating the ground. The breeze whipped by them, forcing the alpha to numbly watch a bundle of thin, green leaves scatter until a few fluttered beyond the riverbank, swallowed by the rush of foam frothing around the rock jutting out from the water’s surface. A few other miscellaneous roots and berries were scattered so vastly that picking each individual one up seemed like a tedious task best left untouched.

A sinking feeling tightened in the pit of his stomach.

Those few, meager roots that Izuku clung to with a white-knuckled grip was all that he had been able to salvage from his trek. All because Katsuki had leaned into the hair-trigger temper of his alpha too hard, too fast.

Would he ever learn?

Katsuki gritted his teeth as he found himself seething out a strained growl. Without another word, he squared his shoulders and trudged away from Izuku, the burning firewood of his pheromones giving way to the rotted wood smell of his shame.

He ignored the muted chirp of mingled curiosity and surprise the omega let out behind him, instead grumbling under his breath as he stalked along the treeline.

“Damn Deku,” Katsuki hissed under his breath. “Always making my damn life harder.” He flared his nostrils the moment his sharp gaze honed in on the handbasket thrown haphazardly onto its side in the snow. Snatching it up in one hand, Katsuki sneered before rounding on his heel. “Coming all the way out to the fuckin’ borders to pick some fucking plants. Here.”

“Oof!” Izuku grunted as Katsuki threw the basket into his lap, brows pinched together and trembling lips curled into a small frown. He gave a small sniff–and despite the way Katsuki glared down at him expectantly, arms crossed over his broad chest, the omega dropped his gaze and silently tucked the shallow handful of herbs he had managed to salvage into it. The silence was deafening–but after a painfully long moment of uncomfortable quiet, Izuku heaved a tired-sounding sigh. “Thanks. I would’ve gone to get it on my own. You didn’t have to….”

Katsuki blinked.

After all of the years that had passed them by, Katsuki had learned to accept a few universal truths about the convoluted and tangled web of their strange relationship.

He burned the bridges of their friendship long ago and after spending far too long relentlessly bullying the omega into keeping his distance lest the beast within him grew rabid and uncontrollable, Izuku’s primary means of communication with him came in the form of curt responses and painfully sarcastic expressions of displeasure.

Katsuki was brittle by nature, callous to his core–and meeting Izuku’s wit with his own anger had come as naturally to him as their friendship had all that time ago. Their heated arguments were familiar territory… so to hear that soft, quiet coo murmuring words of hesitant gratitude left the alpha’s mind momentarily stalling.

“Whatever.” It was the first thing Katsuki could manage to grunt out through the initial surprise. He jerked his head to the side, forcing himself to look at anything but the green-haired omega peering up at him. “It ain’t hard to pick up a damn basket.”

“No, I guess not,” Izuku sighed in resigned agreement. A quiet groan followed by the sound of boots shuffling in the snow filled the air. “Well, I have my basket, and I saved as much of the burdock root I could find, so it’ll just have to do. All that’s left is my…”

Ignoring Izuku’s mumbles, Katsuki turned to veer away from the thin smattering of trees lining the forest in favor of trudging closer to the hilly moors leading into the mouth of the foothills. He came to a halt before a smudge of dark brown against the snow. He twisted the worn leather strap of the bag strewn to the side, letting the corner of his mouth curl into a ghost of a smug smirk as he lifted it up in triumph.

“Satchel?” Katsuki snorted. “This thing, right?” the alpha drawled, barely registering the flurry of chirps that Izuku choked out in response. The top flap fluttered uselessly in the breeze, leaving the mouth of the bag agape. Katsuki peered down at it with a raised brow.

There wasn’t much inside of it–two small nectarines, a canteen of water, another small dagger still tucked into its sheath–but as red eyes settled on two parchment scrolls, held closed by crimson wax seals, the look of smug triumph on Katsuki’s expression faded into confusion.

Before the alpha could pinch his brows together or ask the omega what they were for, the satchel was snatched straight from his hands.

“What the–”

“Th–thanks, Kacchan! I got it!”

This time, Katsuki did furrow his brows in confusion at the way Izuku’s voice cracked on the uptick. Narrowing his eyes, he slowly lifted his gaze to survey him.

Izuku stood before him–how the hell did he get here so fast without Katsuki hearing him, anyway?--with flushed cheeks and a teetering smile. The hands that had plucked the leather bag from Katsuki’s grip shook ever so slightly as they hurried to fasten the top flap of the satchel back into place and as Katsuki squinted down at him, the omega shuffled his feet and cleared his throat.

Izuku undoubtedly had panicked at the thought of Katsuki handling his satchel, considering his handbasket hadn’t caused as much of a stir. Its contents were inane, save for the two strangely official looking scrolls nestled at the bottom of the pouch. He hadn’t had enough time to make note of the seal stamped into the wax, but the rich hue of red was far too pigmented to be of low quality.

“The fuck was that?” Katsuki pressed slowly, squinting down at him. “You doing some light reading or something–”

“It’s nothing!” Izuku blurted out quickly, cutting Katsuki’s question off midway. “Um, we… we can head back. Or, well, I can head back, I guess…” He was stuttering, anxious ramblings tapering off into mutters mumbled out under his breath and as Izuku turned his back to him, Katsuki could tell that the omega was acting far more flighty than usual.

It left an added layer of sourness to his scent, thickening the cloud of stink that still hung heavily over him. Katsuki’s nose twitched as an instinctive growl of frustration itched at his throat. Pushing all thoughts of strange, unmarked scrolls away, the blonde barked out in annoyance.

“Oi, why the hell do you fucking stink like that?”

Izuku’s retreating figure lurched to an awkward halt. He peered over at the blonde from over his shoulder, green eyes widening by a fraction–like he had not a clue that his scent, usually so delicate and sweet, had been soured into something so foul it made the alpha damn near gag.

He opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. As Izuku sank his teeth into his lower lip, he exhaled a quiet sigh and used his free hand to tug at the color of his cloak. Katsuki narrowed his eyes, watching with thinly-veiled suspicion as the omega pulled the material back to expose his neck.

A constellation of freckles dusted the columns of his throat, flecking even the small bit of collarbone that lay exposed. Though Katsuki could feel his eyes begin to wander, he forced himself to focus. The moment his gaze rested on the thick, waxy leaf pasted against his scent gland, a thick, pungent salve dripping from around its edges, it all clicked into place.

“It’s a scent suppressant,” Izuku confessed, voice small and hesitant. “I-I made it myself from a blend of roots with strong odors. It’s long lasting and masks my scent, so no one would notice an omega out in the woods by themselves.” He sounded almost timid and as green eyes blinked up at him balefully, Katsuki had to swallow down the groan of resigned exasperation threatening to escape him.

He was certain Izuku was proud of himself for devising a half-baked way of escaping the village–but as the full picture made itself clear, he couldn’t help the frustration beginning to bubble up within him all over again.

Katsuki wanted nothing more than to grab Izuku by the shoulders and shake him–shake him for being so short-sighted and stupid, for being so reckless and stubborn–but the lingering hints of shame in the omega’s scent pulled at something within him.

Instead of acidic words and snapped-out snarls, Katsuki heaved out a low, heavy sigh.

“You think you’re so damn smart, Deku. I thought it was fucking weird that you didn’t realize I was close. I attacked because the scent was unfamiliar. But you should have known an alpha was charging your way.” He narrowed his eyes at him knowingly. “That damn paste was so overpowering that you couldn’t scent a damn thing over it, either.“

Izuku winced. Clasping his hands together, his fingers fidgeted. “I-I just wasn’t paying attention,” he amended with a mumble.

“Yes, because that’s much better.” Katsuki’s words lacked any real bite; instead, he sounded almost tired, like this entire conversation was quickly sapping what little was left of his energy. He started towards Izuku and before the omega could flinch out of his way, Katsuki skirted past him. He paused only to pluck the abandoned dagger from the snow and any stray berries that he came across. “Come on, nerd. Keep it moving.”

Katsuki could hear the way Izuku’s breath hitch before he stuttered out a cracked r-right!

He rolled his eyes at the sound of Izuku’s hurried footsteps against the snow. When the omega caught up with his stride, panting with each breath and radiating heat from the exertion, Katsuki extended his hand and unceremoniously deposited the handful of berries he had salvaged into his handbasket.

Another soft chirp of surprise–but this time, there was no panic or anxiety. Izuku sounded almost pleased, like he hadn’t expected the gesture, and as the omega peered down at the small fruits, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, my juniper berries! Thank you. This is gonna be really helpful…”

Katsuki eyed him from his periphery, slowing his gait when he noticed how the omega stumbled every few steps in his haste to keep up. “Those are for yer stomach, right? Did yer ma eat something that went bad?”

Wide green eyes glowed with pleasant surprise as Izuku tilted his head to peer up at him. “Woah,” the omega chirped, “how’d you know that?”

The alpha couldn’t help the automatic scoff that escaped him, brows pinching as he shot Izuku an irritated, sideways look.

“The fuck do you mean how?” The question left him with an ill-tempered grunt as Katsuki rolled his shoulders, adjusting his cloak while one hand felt idly at his hip to ensure his sword was still in place. Just as his hand passed over the strap of his quiver across the breadth of his chest, Katsuki grumbled, “I learned basic apothecary in my lessons just like you did, you damn nerd.”

Their lives had surely diverged the moment their secondary natures presented themselves, but every pup in Musutafu was required to complete basic education prior to choosing their own path to tread in the future.

Arithmetic, reading and writing, and basic knowledge of the world around them–Katsuki, despite his sometimes-volatile personality, had participated as best as he could until he was old enough to pursue the apprenticeship he had set his sights on.

While the other young alphas complained and bemoaned the uselessness of the material by their fourteenth year, Katsuki had taken a particular interest in the apothecary notes.

As a warrior, he reasoned, knowing which plants would benefit him in a pinch could be the difference between life and death. They were, after all, expected to make dangerous treks and to investigate harrowing situations. Demeter forbid that a potent young alpha like Katsuki perished from illness during the journey rather than in the line of duty out on the battlefield.

Izuku had the decency to look embarrassed, eyes widening and scent dampening before he squeaked apologetically. “I’m sorry! I just–I don’t know… Kacchan always seemed so…” There was a pause, as if he was contemplating his words, before he inhaled slowly and continued, “... alpha-brained that I didn’t expect him to remember anything about plants or herbs.”

Katsuki stopped so suddenly that Izuku bumped face-first into his back, forcing the omega to yelp in alarm. The blonde hadn’t faltered, barely even registering the other’s weight as he stumbled to catch himself on his feet and gather his bearings. Katsuki ignored Izuku’s panicked yelp as he tilted his basket this way and that to ensure none of his berries or plucked roots would spill over its edge. Instead, the alpha rounded on his heel with an ill-tempered growl.

His scent simmered suddenly, the subdued pine and musk giving way to an acrid bout of smoke and wildfire. Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance, red eyes flashing with heat as he pinned Izuku under his smoldering gaze.

“Hah? You callin’ me a fucking knothead, Deku?!” He snapped, unable to mask the indignant hiss behind his words.

The omega gave a small squeak, shrinking back by just a fraction. The alpha within him growled in warning, reminding him that omega vulnerable, omega small, protect omega, not scare him, forcing Katsuki to swallow down the rumbling growl threatening to escape him as Izuku fidgeted before him.

“I mean,” Izuku fretted, shifty gaze flicking this way and that, as if he wanted to look anywhere other than up at Katsuki’s face. The alpha half expected another lame apology, but the moment soft pink lips parted, all Izuku said was, “if those are Kacchan’s words, then I’m not the one who called him a knothead...”

Katsuki blanched. His jaw fell slack and though the alpha would never admit that there were moments where even he could be rendered speechless, he sputtered.

“What the– fucking– I’ll kill you! Shut the hell up!”

Izuku’s nose twitched and much to Katsuki’s chagrin, the omega pursed his lips to hold back the smallest of smiles in response to his impulsive threat. When he parted his lips, the sound that escaped him was so soft and quiet that the blonde almost missed it altogether–but when it registered, Katsuki felt his muscles tighten and his heart go still for a fleeting moment.

He was laughing–a muted but genuine sound that made the alpha within Katsuki curl inside of him, rumbling with glee. Omega happy, it crooned. Omega content.

“I said I was sorry!” Izuku breathed out in between gentle giggles. “Besides, these aren’t for my mom. They’re for a friend.”

Katsuki was at a loss, heaving a sigh of ill-tempered exasperation before rounding on his heel to leave his back to the omega. There was a scowl on his lips, twisted and full of irritation, but the usual smoke that permeated his pheromones when true anger or annoyance coursed through him was absent.

Despite his squared shoulders, muttered curses, and stomping footsteps, the alpha’s demeanor had markedly shifted; where he had torn his way through the clearing seeing nothing but red, he now trudged along with the petulance of a pup that had been scolded.

He gave a haughty sniff before rolling his shoulders. The alpha could hear the lighter, more quick-footed shuffle of Izuku’s stride as he bounded over to catch up. Katsuki didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was following, nostrils flaring every few moments to ensure that the traces of the warm, earthy scent of summer rain and the delicate, sheer perfume of wildflowers under the pungency of his blockers hadn’t grown too faint. A part of him knew that if he looked back now and saw that same small, timid smile still lingering on Izuku’s face, his thought process would come to another embarrassingly sudden halt.

A handful of quiet seconds passed before Katsuki cleared his throat. Glancing at Izuku from only the corner of his eye, he muttered, “that beta with the weirdly round cheeks sick or something?”

“No, she’s not,” Izuku chirped before giving a small snort. “And her name is Ochaco. It’s for someone else. My friend, Moony.” Another small pause–and this time, Katsuki did dare to turn his head enough to allow a red gaze to study the outline of the omega’s profile. The gentle smile had faded and in its place was a troubled look–pinched brows, lips curled down at the corners, and nose twitching. When he continued, Izuku’s voice was smaller. “She got really sick recently and she won’t eat anything anymore… I’m really worried that if I don’t do something quick, then…”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Izuku trailed off, his own brows furrowing.

“What, can’t Aizawa-sensei help, or something?” He grunted out the question before turning his gaze away to fix straight ahead, mentally picking apart the pronged paths in the fresh snow with every step. Katsuki veered to the left without warning, forcing Izuku to squeak in surprise and stumble before he was able to catch back up. With an eye-roll, he pressed on, “ain’t he the village’s best apothecary? Figured he’d have some of those dumb berries or roots, or whatever.”

“Ah, it’s not that Aizawa-sensei can’t, or anything. It’s just that, um…” Izuku floundered before sucking in a slow breath. “I don’t think… he would be willing to use his herbs on Moony, per se…”

“And why the hell not?”

“Well, you see, um… it’s just that Moony’s… well. She’s… not actually a person, is all.” The omega stumbled and stuttered over his words, reminding Katsuki all too much of the shy pup that had once clasped hands with him to dash about in their favorite meadow. His wandering thoughts, however, came to a grinding halt the moment Izuku cleared his throat and continued. “The thing with Moony is that she’s… a donkey.”

For the second time in only a handful of minutes, Katsuki froze. This time, his alpha threatened to bare its teeth as a prickling growl crawled its way up his throat.

“You’re telling me,” he gritted out through a clenched jaw, “that you strayed so fucking far into the woods that you ended up by the fucking foothills on the outskirts of our territory, nose-blind to everything because of your stupid blockers–that fucking reek, by the way–for a fucking donkey?”

The scent of blooming flowers began to wither, leaving the scent hanging in the air wilted and sour. Izuku mumbled under his breath, pausing in his stride the moment the blonde turned on his heel to fix him with a burning look through smoldering carmine eyes. Izuku’s own ears grew warm and red, fingers twisting around the handle of his handbasket.

The alpha scoffed in disbelief. “Un-fucking-believable. You think you’re invincible or some shit just ‘cause Demeter thought you’re the fuckin’ Chosen One?” Katsuki couldn’t help the bite behind his growl, the fresh scent of pine trees and evergreen forests beginning to burn all over again.

He seethed as his hands flexed at his sides, knuckles running white the moment his fingers curled into fists. Katsuki had to force himself to swallow as he felt the beast within him stir, hackles bristling and teeth bared with a growl of frustration.

Katsuki opened his mouth, a slew of frustrated ramblings and angry quips on his tongue–but the moment Izuku winced under the intensity of his glare, he snapped his mouth shut. His teeth clacked together hard enough that he groaned, jaw flexing until the muscle jumped visibly from the tension.

With his nostrils flared, Katsuki forced himself to drag a slow breath into his lungs. It took him longer than he’d care to admit to wrangle the bucking and snarling animal threatening to break through his skin back into submission but when he did, the blonde forced out a breath and attempted to subdue the thick, acrid plume of his pheromones.

“These borders are dangerous,” he started again, voice dropping to a low, tense growl. “Do you know there are fucking outsiders trying to scent our territory? All of us warriors have been scouting day and night to make sure enemy alphas aren’t lurking in the fucking foothills. And you were wandering around there for a donkey?”

“She’s not just a donkey, she’s my friend!”

Izuku’s sudden outburst nearly gave Katsuki whiplash. His brows pinched together and his lower lip jutted out in what the alpha could only assume was his best attempt at a scowl to mirror Katsuki’s own. It only made him look even smaller, like a pup trying his best to put on a face of bravery and valiance.

“And if I don’t help her, then–then they might… They might kill her. She got sick all of a sudden, but I just played with her three days ago and she was fine. Something’s wrong and if I can help her, then maybe they won’t…”

The pieces suddenly fell into place and the moment they clicked, Katsuki felt a sharp, splitting pain against the inside of his skull.

The fucking sick cattle the War Chief had mentioned in passing during their debrief before dawn was the damned donkey that Izuku had inadvertently risked his life for.

The very donkey that Katsuki was scheduled to execute after the solstice festival concluded.

He groaned, rubbing his face with one hand. “What on Demeter’s name… fuck,” Katsuki rasped. “Deku, you’re gonna get yourself killed–”

“I told you I was just fine!” Izuku’s rebuttal was swift–and this time, he curled his lip and mustered ujp the last dregs of his own courage to attempt a growl. It was softer, fainter than a true alpha’s roar, and though it failed to intimidate Katsuki, the alpha couldn’t help the quiet scoff at the show of sudden defiance. The omega didn’t falter, brows pinched and mouth twisted into a scowl of his own.

With a shaky breath, he pressed on. “I know that you don’t get me–and I don’t… expect you to.” Izuku faltered, words splintering ever so slightly. Katsuki’s left hand twitched and the inside of his wrist burned. He had to bite back a hiss as Izuku continued,

“I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I need to help her.” Izuku’s voice grew small as green eyes looked up at him almost imploringly–as if he was silently begging Katsuki to see, to understand. The stinging feeling against his wrist subsided, but the thin red thread wound through his chest tightened without warning. Izuku whispered, “I’m the only one who will.”

Silence settled over them, thick and suffocating. Burning carmines locked onto verdant greens–and though there were no words spoken, Izuku’s gaze pleaded with him.

Stubborn, always so fucking stubborn. It drove Katsuki mad, watching Izuku put himself into one situation after the other. He thought that he had scared the omega off completely all those years ago, in the nights before the assessment meant to scout out the next batch of up-and-coming warriors. He had been cruel back then, harsh and callous in ways that would later leave his alpha howling in despair–but he thought it worked.

What was Izuku thinking?

The woods, the darkness of its depth and all the unseen monsters it housed–they were dangerous. He was an omega, a creature unsuited for the physical demand required to fend off whatever it was that went bump in the night. He was so dead-set on his ways, obsessed with becoming the warrior he had promised to be at Katsuki’s side, that he let himself become blind to the threats that lurked at every turn.

Katsuki thought he had prevailed, but all he had done was underestimate Izuku’s bull-headed need to save the world around him, no matter the cost.

Even if it was just a fucking donkey, Izuku would stop at nothing.

“You’re so fucking frustrating.” It was all Katsuki could manage to grit out through his teeth–but this time, his words lacked the razor-sharp edge of anger. He sounded exhausted, like he had finally discovered a battle he couldn’t win.

“I know. And I’m sorry.” Izuku’s apology was small and timid, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop as he eyes Katsuki with pinched brows.

The alpha merely huffed a breath and turned on his heel as he started down the path back to the village once again. The tension lingered, but as they trekked deeper into the heart of the forest, it began to ease with the minutes that passed them by.

They walked together in understanding silence and Katsuki only had to slow his gait a handful of times, red eyes wandering behind the omega whenever Izuku chirped in interest, pausing with no warning to inspect a tree at random. He’d pick at the bark, tilt his head this way and that, before returning to the blonde’s side. As Izuku adjusted the strap of his satchel on his shoulder and ensured that his meager harvest was still in tact, Katsuki rolled his eyes and picked up his pace once more.

Before long, they found themselves in a narrow clearing amongst the trees. The snow was mixed with mud and marred with a plethora of footprints–a mish-mash of boots that twisted and turned around the small area. With a grunt, Katsuki rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms above his head. This was where he and his warriors had paused earlier to rethink their strategy. The mouth of Musutafu was barely a stone’s throw away.

Izuku paused, head tilting to cast Katsuki a curious look. The question behind it was left unspoken, forcing him to groan and roll his eyes.

“Go,” he rumbled. “The village isn’t far from here.”

The omega hesitated again, chewing the inside of his cheek before clearing his throat. “You’re not coming?”

The question caught Katsuki off guard, forcing the alpha to raise a brow and fix him with a strange look. Izuku had dropped his gaze, though, and all the blonde could do was study the way the sunlight reflected against the soft, bouncy definition of his curls.

Not one day prior, Izuku had spat at him like Katsuki was nothing more than a brute who wanted nothing more than control and obedience out of him. He hadn’t been very kind in return, forcing their clashing personalities to butt heads once more. Izuku had been quick to get out of his sight the moment they were released from their duty to the village, not even bothering to spare Katsuki a fleeting glance as he disappeared into the crowd.

For a brief moment, an image of dead trees and rotting animal corpses flashed through his mind, forcing him to swallow. Katsuki shook his head and jerked his head to the side, tearing his gaze away from those wide, doe-eyed greens.

“Idiot,” Katsuki mumbled, one hand dropping to the hilt of the sword at his waist as the other ensured his quiver was still in place. “I have a hunt to get back to. A hunt that’s meant for you, actually.”

“Oh.” Izuku shuffled his feet awkwardly, voice sounding small. “Right.. I almost forgot.” His tone was almost sheepish but Katsuki knew better. As if either of them could forget about the soulmarks burning into their wrists or ignore the pull of invisible thread tethering them together.

Katsuki merely offered a grunt in response, squinting up at the sky. He didn’t have much more time before late afternoon rolled around. He had to make haste if he wished to come back with any sort of game. Chasing after Izuku had eaten up a considerable amount of his time and though a part of the alpha knew he should be frustrated, the beast within him crooned quietly at the fact that soon enough, Izuku would be back where he should be–away from the outskirts of their territory, where any lurking alpha could pluck him up and snatch him away.

“Kacchan?”

His timid voice nearly startled him. It still felt strange to hear that childhood nickname on Izuku’s lips after all these years–but his alpha still rumbled with pleasure at the sound of it against his ears. Katsuki blinked after a slow second, nostrils flared as he swung his head back to fix him with a neutral look. “What, Deku?” He grunted out the question, surveying the omega through careful eyes.

Izuku pursed his lips, his own gaze fixed down at the contents of his handbasket. “Um, thanks,” he finally stuttered out. As the omega inhaled, it dawned on Katsuki that Izuku had been mulling over his words the entire time they had walked in silence. His soft voice wavered, but he pressed on nonetheless. “For… helping me get the burdock roots and juniper berries. You didn’t have to do that, so… thank you.”

Katsuki felt his chest squeeze tight. When he spoke, he forced himself to snort it out with his same level of nonchalance and apathy. “Whatever, nerd.” He released the hilt of his sword and gestured in the vague direction ahead of them. “Not like it was a big deal or anything. Now, go. I’m wastin’ daylight and if your ass wants any good freshkill, you’ll get a fuckin’ move on.”

For the second time that day, Izuku smiled at him. Timid and shy, but genuine. “Okay, Kacchan.” He took a few steps forward before pausing again. Peering hesitantly over his shoulders, Izuku lingered long enough to say, “I guess I’ll see you later” before turning on his heel to venture back towards Musutafu.

“Yeah,” Katsuki breathed out as his gaze lingered on the outline of Izuku’s retreating figure, watching the way the omega bounded out of his sight and back to the safety of their village. He knew that the boy with the wild green curls, infectious laughter, and self-sacrificial heart couldn’t hear him, but the alpha whispered nonetheless, “I’ll see you later, Izuku.”

Chapter Text

As the adrenaline from earlier began to finally subside, exhaustion left every last one of Katsuki’s muscles groaning in protest.

All the alpha could manage was a low grunt as he trudged through the heart of the woods; the tip of his sword dragged behind him, leaving behind a thin trail against the pristine blanket of snow in its wake. His shoulders sagged and as he clenched his jaw tightly enough for the muscle to jump visibly, Katsuki couldn’t help the frustration simmering within him.

The trek to and from the western borders of their territory had taken far longer than he cared to admit; even with the robust stamina he had built up over the years, Katsuki still found himself fighting the urge to heave a drawn-out groan of exhaustion. The cool winter sun was far from warm but his back still felt damp with sweat beneath the heavy fur of his cloak and his muscles twinged with an ache he knew he’d feel for days to come.

Katsuki gritted his teeth. As he drew to a halt, fingers flexing at his sides, he tilted his head back to squint up at the harsh glare of the highnoon sun.

“Shit,” he hissed. Katsuki’s mouth tasted bitter as he sucked on his teeth, swallowing back the urge to growl in exasperation. The alpha’s hunt was meant to reconvene by late morning to ensure that the game they caught had time for preparation prior to the evening’s feast. He was already late–which left him with no time to salvage what he could from the day’s fruitless endeavors.

For the first time in his goddamn life, Katsuki Bakugou felt like a big, fat fuckin’ zero.

He had procured exactly no freshkill to commemorate what was arguably the most important hunt of his life; not only would he return to the village people empty-handed, but before Demeter, too.

As if their goddess hadn’t punished him enough, the alpha thought bitterly. As if he needed another excuse to disappoint Her.

Finding even a shrew or scrawny winter hare to save himself from returning to Musutafu without any kills at all wasn’t worth the effort; it would be a wasted venture and even more wasted time. Katsuki had no choice but to resign himself to licking his wounds in silence.

The air around him thickened with the stench of ash and burning wood. With each trudging step, Katsuki’s pheromones soured further and further. As the realization that the precious time he had been afforded to prove his worth to the omega he’d been destined to take as a mate had slipped right through his fingers began to sink in, he had no choice but to accept the reality of what lay ahead.

Just as the alpha within him always said–he was a failure.

“Dammit,” he growled. The birds roosting in the branches scattered with a mocking caw as the rumbling echoes of Katsuki’s irritation filled the air. With a flex of his jaw and a click of his teeth, the alpha trudged towards the sloped clearing that he and his men had chosen as their rendezvous point.

His head felt full of cotton and with each footfall of his boots, the sound of crunching snow made the inside of his skull throb dully. His jaw was clenched so tight that the tense muscle felt almost sore–and though Katsuki knew damn well that dwelling on his lack of a complete victory would bring him nothing but grief, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

After years of fighting tirelessly with his blood, sweat, and tears, Katsuki had wanted nothing more than to become the strongest alpha his village had ever seen–just as he was everyone said he would. Greatness was in his blood, woven into his very nature–so why had he failed where he would have once excelled when it mattered the most?

Katsuki’s hands balled into tight, white-knuckled fists at his side as he gritted his teeth. The tight thread constricting around his heart forced his chest to seize once more, and though Katsuki had found himself growing more and more familiar with the feeling, it still left his choking over sharp breaths.

Demeter had warned him that following his own misguided frustrations would be the start of his demise–and the loss he would be forced to publicly endure was no doubt just another dose of Her punishment. He couldn’t keep blaming him, the omega that refused to accept; how could he anymore? Everything, every little misstep, had been his own fault. His alpha’s dismay and volatility always stemmed from that one day, the day his fate had been sealed forever.

Becoming an alpha was a given, but becoming an alpha of immense natural potential should have been a joyous occasion. And yet, all Katsuki could remember from that day was red.

An intensity he had never felt before burned through his chest and all he could do was succumb to the crimson haze that took hold of him. Izuku’s wobbly cries that once brought a toothy smile to his face stoked an ember that burned into something else entirely. All the pup knew back then was that being around him, around the boy with the big green eyes and constellation of freckles dusting his cheeks, made the deep, visceral heat of his alpha’s growing presence scorch him from the inside out.

How could he ever become a warrior if his mind went blank and his rational mind unraveled to give way to his alpha at the mere inhale of his scent? How could he ever stay steadfast and unrelenting in battle if his beast was so intrinsically tethered to an omega like him? One that wanted nothing more than to be at his side as a warrior in arms?

Katsuki wouldn’t survive it. He wouldn’t ever be able to become the war chief if his inner beast howled for someone as bull-headed and stubborn as Izuku Midoriya, the omega that would venture deep into treacherous territories for no other reason than to tend to an ill livestock.

He’d never be able to take it back and it was far too little, far too late for regrets.

“Oi! Bakugou!”

Katsuki’s thoughts came to a grinding halt as the familiar but distant sound of Hanta’s shout echoed through the air. “There you are, ya big show-off!” When he squinted into the horizon, Katsuki could make out his tall, spindly silhouette standing at the top of the slope.

He wore a wide, toothy grin, forcing Katsuki to lurch to an abrupt halt. His brows pinched together and his jaw ticked with mild confusion. Even from this distance, he could make out the unabashed glee in Hanta’s expression. A part of him couldn’t help but think that the dark-haired alpha was mocking him for returning empty-handed.

Anger sizzled through him and the thick, oppressive stench of acrid smoke spiked in his pheromones–but before he could snap out a foul-mouthed retort, a shock of golden-blonde appeared at his side. Denki, with all the excitement of an overly-rambunctious dog, whooped as he punched the air.

He swung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder the moment he trudged the last few steps up along the slope. Katsuki rolled his eyes, grumbling a muted get the fuck off of me. Denki promptly ignored him and snickered.

“Seriously, man! How the hell do you do it?” Denki’s grin was as wide and idiotic as Hanta’s own.

“The fuck are you idiots yapping about?” Katsuki grunted as he gave his shoulder a gruff jerk, ignoring Denki’s petulant whine.

Hanta snorted out a chuckle. “No need to be so modest, dude. Hawks told us all about it.”

“Yeah, the poor guy looked tired carrying all those bags! I asked if his wings were sore, but he said he was fine,” Denki supplied helpfully, breathing out a laugh of his own. “Told us all about how much of a badass you were. I mean, duh, we all already knew you’d kill it, but still!”

The mention of the warbird’s name forced Katsuki to stall. He froze for only a split moment before clearing his throat, crimson eyes darting over to cut both Hanta and Denki a scrutinizing look.

Their bright expressions were as warm and buoyant as always–and though the pair of alphas acted more like numbskulls than they did warriors more often than not, they were still his men. When their grins refused to falter, all Katsuki could manage was to bite out an ill-tempered growl through his teeth with an unimpressed roll of his eyes.

“I’m tired of you extras dicking around,” Katsuki deadpanned. “Move. You’re in my fuckin’ way.” He ignored the sound of Denki’s petulant whine of protest as he shouldered past him in favor of descending upon the small clearing.

The blonde barely registered Hanta’s crunching footfalls as the other jogged behind him. “Well, considering the size of your haul, looks like we coulda had even more time to dick around!”

Katsuki didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that the dark-haired alpha wore a smug-looking grin. Instead, he clenched his teeth and allowed the muscle in his jaw to tick; the more Hanta and Denki goaded him, the more his frustration began to swell all over again. The looks on their faces had seemed truly genuine–but with nothing in his burlap sack to show for his efforts, he couldn’t help but feel as if his troupe was playing a particularly unfunny joke on him–and somehow, Hawks was at the crux of it.

Damn bird, he thought bitterly. Shoulda fuckin’ skinned him alive when I still had the chance.

As he dropped one knee into the snow to re-lace one of his boots, the familiar scent of cardamom and sandalwood wafted over him. Katsuki grimaced. Without lifting his head, he drawled out, “don’t even think about indulging those knotheads.” The blonde’s eyes caught sight of Eijirou’s boots in his periphery and as the other alpha let out a laugh that rivaled both Denki and Hanta’s, Katsuki flared his nose with one last sigh.

“And why not? Seriously, dude. You’re usually the first to brag about your kills and you choose today to be modest?” Eijirou snorted. The uneasy feeling squeezing through Katsuki’s insides only tightened as he reluctantly lifted his crimson gaze to survey the other with a critical look. Sure enough, Eijirou’s wide grin was as genuine as the other two–which only forced Katsuki to pinch his brows.

He heaved himself back up to his feet with an annoyed mutter, rolling his shoulders in an attempt at loosening the tension coiled tight within his muscles. “You ever shut your mouth?” Katsuki grumbled. His words lacked any real bite or conviction behind them and Eijirou snickered in response. Even as he grimaced with a click of his teeth, the red-haired alpha merely leaned close to swing an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Nah, it drives my ma crazy. Mina, too,” Eijirou offered brightly, ignoring the irritated snap of Katsuki’s jaw and the quiet growl that followed suit. “Plus, if anyone deserves the props, it’s you!”

As Eijirou dug an elbow into his side, Katsuki gritted his teeth while the subtle tinge of acrid smoke lingering in his scent began to thicken. It was an attempt at dispelling the other alpha through the pungency of his pheromones–but, as always, Eijirou seemed unphased by any and every attempt Katsuki made at bulldozing over him.

When Katsuki was able to finally shove Eijirou off of him with a grunt, he swung his head and turned his cheek in defiance. Despite the sinking pit of his own failure that had settled in his stomach, Katsuki forced himself to give a haughty sniff and square his shoulders.

“Look, we ain’t got much time, and I have no idea what you idiots are talking about, but…”

As a ruby gaze swept over the clearing, Katsuki froze to gawk at what lay before him.

Staring back at him were four burlap sacks stuffed so full of fresh-kill that they were bulging enough to strain the rough fibers. They were nestled at the edge of the narrow clearing, perched mockingly in the snow like a group of fat cats lazing under the winter sun. Even with the frayed rope tying off the tops, they could barely hold their contents.

Katsuki could make out the soft, furry ears of a hare sticking out from one and the tawny primaries of a winter pheasant from another. The third burlap sack was packed so full that the fibers were beginning to strain, but it was hard to tell what it concealed. The last of them was bundled tightly closed, but even from this distance, his flared nostrils could pick out the distinct scent of fish. No doubt it was packed full of the salmon that had swam upstream for the winter.

“What the…” Katsuki’s whisper trailed off as the realization began to dawn on him.

Eyes that glowed like molten gold in the dark and a smile full of serrated teeth.

Hawks had spent the better part of his own morning hunting and killing any piece of prey that dared to breathe within his ominous presence. And he had done it all for him. He must have known that the moment he so much as implied that Izuku was lurking in places he shouldn’t be, Katsuki would drop everything to find him… which meant that the coveted and prestigious Alpha’s Hunt was going to return with meager killings, if any at all.

He was an apex predator–and though he often wore gluttony and sloth like a second skin, Hawks was a diligent creature who more than earned his keep within Musutafu and today, Katsuki owed him gratitude more than ever before.

Eijirou patted his shoulder encouragingly, snapping Katsuki out of his brief lapse of shock. “He dropped it off not too long ago,” he supplied helpfully. “Told us he saw you luggin’ those bags all on your own and that he offered to carry ‘em up for you. Said he’d see you later tonight before he flew off. He’s probably at the Todoroki estate already.”

“Damn bird.” Katsuki’s rumble lacked any real conviction. He barely bit back the tired smile that threatened to pull at his lips as he snorted. “He always sticks his damn talons in everything. Wouldn’t get off my ass even if I told him to, you know how he is.”

The subtle reek of burning wood had finally abated, replaced with the calming scent of pine needles and evergreen trees. As Katsuki’s shoulders relaxed, Eijirou chuckled at his side. “Yeah, but we all know he means well,” the red-head mused in agreement.

Katsuki very rarely allowed himself to concede to others; victory had always been in his blood, a certainty that he would seize with his own two hands if that’s what it took. Reaching out for another’s hand–it was a sign of weakness, a sign of defeat… but today, he silently thanked the winged man for his silent understanding.

“Damn right,” Katsuki pressed, shrugging Eijirou off in favor of stalking forward.

He paused to examine the burlap sacks, crouching down just enough to hoist one of the tattered ropes over his shoulder. He grunted, locking his knees to brace himself. Katsuki had to furrow his brows to mask the subtle surprise that flickered in ruby depths. The one stuffed full of rabbits was somehow even heavier than he had anticipated, forcing the alpha to wonder just how many of them Hawks had been able to hunt on top of everything else.

“Hanta, Denki,” Katsuki shouted, biting back an irritated growl through clenched teeth. “Oi! Dipshits! Get yer asses over here and make yourselves useful! It’s the least you two extras could do!”

“Aye, aye, cap’n’!” Two voices resounded in unison as the alphas in question skittered into the clearing fast enough to send a slew of slushed-up snow flying through the air.

Denki and Hanta squabbled over who got to carry which bag–Denki, on one hand, insisted that he didn’t want to stink of fish, while Hanta argued that if anyone needed to smell nice tonight, it was him–and all Katsuki could do was roll his eyes. He forced himself to tune the conversation out entirely when Denki screeched that Hanta was delusional for thinking he had a sliver of a chance at courting Shoto tonight.

“Will you two shut up? Like that damn Todoroki brat wants either of you! Let’s move,” Katsuki scoffed. Barking out orders with enough force to leave Denki’s spine straight and Hanta saluting in earnest was a welcome reprieve. As Eijirou gave his head a shake of feigned defeat, he chuckled.

But before he, too, turned on his heel to ensure that there was nothing left behind, Eijirou paused long enough to catch Katsuki’s crimson gaze with his own. “Hey,” Eijirou started, voice quiet enough that the other two warriors wouldn’t be able to hear them over the din of their own bickering. “You’re doing good, man. So… cheer up. I bet things are gonna start lookin’ up real soon.”

Katsuki froze.

Eijirou gazed back at him, a soft smile on his face as he gave the blonde’s shoulder one more comforting squeeze. It took him longer to process than he cared to admit, but in spite of himself, Katsuki heaved a quiet, drawn-out sigh. It was caught somewhere between relief and defeat… but as he gave a small nod of acknowledgement, Eijirou patted his arm and slowly pulled away.

He was grateful; Eijirou always understood him when so few others did and right now, the alpha loyal and steadfast alpha was the only one who seemed to understand him. Katsuki flared his nostrils, watching as the red-head turned and trudged forward to join the others ahead. He began to gently herd them back on track, breaking up their bickering, and standing in for Katsuki when he needed him the most.

Katsuki clenched his hand into a fist at his side. The Cancer constellation stitched into his wrist thrummed with life. He knew what he needed to do–but he had no idea where to start. With his warriors supporting him, the blonde was painfully aware that he was moving on borrowed time. He didn’t have long to prove his worth to Izuku and with only two more nights before the night of the solstice, Katsuki had no other choice.

Swallowing thickly, the alpha flared his nostrils and steeled himself.

He had never been the kind of man that gave up–and Katsuki would be damned if he allowed his dogged determination to falter now.

“Demeter, help me,” Katsuki whispered as he squared his shoulders and started towards the mouth of their village. “Don’t turn your back on me now.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ ───

The village center was as alive and boisterous as it always was at the peak of highnoon. The usual foray of vendors that took up shop in the square during daylight hours had thinned out considerably to make way for the evening’s preparations.

Despite the frigid breath of winter, a huddle of ruddy-faced betas wiped sweat from their brows as they moved in tandem to toss thick, splintered chunks of chopped wood into a large pile of kindling amassed at the center of the square. They laughed and the comfortable babble of their distant voices filled the air. The stage upon which Katsuki and Izuku had been perched upon to oversee the crowds the day before still stood tall and proud–another towering reminder of the alpha’s streak of missteps.

Musutafu was a rather small village in comparison to most; their numbers weren’t particularly impressive nor did they foster a reputation built on invasions and pillaging. They were modest and self-sufficient, paying respects to the pacifistic nature of their patron Goddess–and because Demeter prized good fortune during the crop-bearing seasons over senseless violence, Her people chose to worship Her in kind.

Serving the people of their village was where their pride and joy came from–and though War Chief Todoroki was a gruff man known for his merciless impunity on the battlefront, Musutafu prospered under Demeter’s well-loved traditions. The Alpha’s Hunt was always an evening of great fanfare and celebration–not only to pay their dues prior to the solstice, but also to bask in the comfort of what it meant to be taken care of.

Every year, Katsuki would sit at the long, stretched-out tables settled at the foot of the stage with a wild grin and sparkling red eyes. Every villager that came to the square to celebrate that night were served with plates full of fresh meat; he remembered a particularly indulgent year when the alpha had gone above and beyond to impress his fated mate. The bonfire filled the village center with warmth, the familiar melody of stringed instruments being plucked danced through the air, and winter didn’t feel so bleak anymore.

The crowd went silent and still the moment the music came to a halt and the War Chief at the time–Toshinori, still hefty with muscle and exuding power with every step at his prime–held his hand up high to call for everyone’s attention. Katsuki held his breath and leaned over the edge of his table, red eyes glittering under the starlight, as he and everyone around him watched Demeter’s chosen alpha cut through the village center. Those who had been dancing against the cobblestone parted immediately as he descended upon them with a regal sweep of his cloak.

The alpha’s long, silver locks were gelled perfectly into his place, forming thick ridges to obscure his face like a thief in the night. His ceremonial cloaks were bathed in deep, navy hues and brilliant crimson accents and the long, winding red scarf looped around his neck unfurled behind him with every step, dancing in the frigid winter breeze.

His scent was thick as he passed by Katsuki’s table, spiced with his own excitement and anticipation as his fellow alpha warriors–a beautiful woman with thick, sweeping hair as black as midnight and a boisterous blonde with a wiry mustache and pointed spectacles–followed dutifully behind him. In their arms were large burlap sacks full of cleaned and prepared meats… the spoils of their victorious hunt.

Shinya Kamihara only came to a halt when he stood before the omega that awaited him–a tall and stern-looking man with perfectly-gelled blonde hair. Tsunagu Hakamada, the only son to the finest textile and garment makers of Musutafu, allowed his expression to soften when he locked eyes with the alpha. Even in the pin-drop silence that settled over the square, one thing was certain: the inexplicable connection between them was so genuine that it was almost palpable.

It was then that Shinya’s warriors stepped forward and began to present each kill to the omega, one by one. It was a never ending list and the village-people shifted with glee. It was a bountiful hunt–no doubt blessed by Demeter, Herself–and tonight, the village would be fed until everyone returned home both fat and drunk, in Tsunagu’s honor.

Katsuki knew then and there that he wanted nothing more than to be the Chosen One when he was old enough. He knew that he wanted to be the one that the village looked at with awe and inspiration.

The time had finally come–and though Denki and Hanta were both yipping and whining like a handful of spoiled pups from how heavy their burlap sacks were, Katsuki couldn’t help the quiet disappointment that had settled in the pit of his stomach. It sank like a rock into a riverbed, weighing him down and forcing him to drag his boots as he trudged ahead.

The victory that Hawks had so graciously secured for him felt hollow for more than one reason.

If the day before was any indication, Izuku wouldn’t sit upon his throne with an expression of reverence or appreciation. Their scuffle at the outskirts of Musutafu’s territory had been an anomaly–and though a part of Katsuki’s mind was still reeling from the soft murmurings of appreciation that had left the omega’s lips, he knew just how dismal the reality of their situation was.

Being around Izuku made every last fiber of his being burn–burn with a heat that left him feeling as if he was being incinerated from the inside out. His alpha howled and his skin always felt too tight for his bones.

It drove him mad, it made him inconsolable–volatile, destructive, out of control. All things a warrior could never be–not when the way Izuku stood with his chin jutted out in defiance against his own weakness left him drowning in the agony of an alpha failing to do what the basest of his instincts demanded of him.

Katsuki couldn’t bear the sight of Izuku because he was walking proof of his own weaknesses–an omega so jaded to the world that he walked headfirst into danger with dogged determination, one that he couldn’t ever protect properly.

Guilt twinged in his scent and his pheromones curdled. As Katsukis hunched his shoulders, he couldn’t help the way his teeth ground together almost audibly. It wasn’t until Eijirou deliberately cleared his throat at his side that the blonde snapped out of the doomed thought-cycle he had been trapped in since dawn.

“Since those two are finally properly distracted,” Eijirou ventured cautiously, “you wanna talk?”

Katsuki swallowed back a groan of frustration.

If he claimed that it had been Demeter’s horrific nightmare that had truly forced the alpha to realize the truth of his inner turmoil, he would have been a liar; at its core, at the very crux of it all, Katsuki knew what the truth was from the night he first learned that he wanted nothing more than to be the very alpha that walked up on that stage–that the victorious howl of an alpha in his prime only came when he found what made him whole.

He hated the truth and that was why he had swallowed it down for so long, why he had ignored that nagging itch in hopes that he’d forget it altogether.

But with all things, Katsuki knew damn well that the karmic laws of the universe very rarely allowed the truth to stay buried for too long.

Still, the uncomfortable and borderline nauseating epiphanies that had been plaguing Katsuki weren’t things he had the words to describe just yet. Especially not when Eijirou’s wide, curious eyes were trained on him intensely enough that his gaze damn near burned.

“Ain’t much to talk about,” Katsuki finally groused, voice little more than a low rumble.

The red-haired alpha snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re making that face again.”

Katsuki curled his lip and bared his teeth in annoyance, cutting Eijirou an irate look through narrowed red eyes. “I ain’t makin’ a damn face, Shitty Hair!” Despite the lingering growl behind his snapped-out words, Eijirou laughed.

“Yeah, sure,” he pressed, one corner of his mouth lifting in a lazy half-smile. “If you’re still freaking out about tonight, I really think you’ve got this… in the bag.” As if to make his point, Eijirou flashed a wolfish grin and bumped the burlap sack swung over his shoulder for emphasis. “Midoriya’s gonna be blown outta the water, man. Seriously. The entire village, too.”

The unwavering confidence in his voice forced Katsuki to grit his teeth and swallow back the urge to heave a bone-deep sigh. The sourness lingering his scent thrummed briefly before he gritted his teeth and willed himself to soothe his pheromones from stinking up the air around him even further.

“We’ll see how impressed he is tonight,” Katsuki amended, rasping drawl flat and dry as he schooled his expression into neutrality. His lip still curled ever so slightly and his brows remained pinched enough for a wrinkle to form between them, but with his jaw set and eyes focused dead ahead, the lingering apprehension behind his troubled expression remained muted. “All he ever does is bitch when I’m around.”

Katsuki nearly flinched at the petulance that managed to creep into his own words. Eijirou fell silent for a second too long and the blonde flared his nostrils with a slow, drawn-out inhale.

He waited for the other alpha to comment on his tone–but instead, he hummed thoughtfully. The scent of spiced cardamoms gently pushed out into the air–Eijirou’s subtle way of attempting to subdue the curdled tang that still lingered around them–and Katsuki found himself exhaling sharply.

“Well,” Eijirou started again after another brief moment, still sounding just as careful as he had been earlier. “If it means anything… there’s no way your luck’s gonna be anywhere near as bad as Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum’s over there.”

Quirking a brow, Katsuki glanced over his shoulder to peer back at the other two members of his troupe that had lagged behind.

“–Bakugou’s off the market now, but that doesn’t mean Todoroki’s gonna want your dumb ass!”

“Just because no omega in their right mind would ever let you court ‘em doesn’t mean I don’t have a chance!”

“Yeah, right! As if the Chief would want a loser like you to mate the prince.” Denki tacked on a cawed-out laugh in spite of Hanta’s warning growl. “Bakugou was gonna bag him ‘cause he’s actually strong. Last time a bug flew into your face, you screamed like a little girl!”

“Says the guy that nearly pissed his pants when Kyouka snuck up behind him the other night!” Hanta fired back, much to Denki’s chagrin.

Katsuki cringed. Maybe Eijirou was right–he might be hopeless, but he wasn’t that hopeless.

As the squabbling between the pair of alphas began to intensify, Katsuki managed to roll his eyes. A tired groan followed suit as he turned his head away, ignoring Denki as he decided that grabbing a handful of snow to pack into a tight ball and fling at Hanta was a more pressing concern than lugging a burlap sack stuffed full of freshly-killed pheasants.

Their quibbling didn’t relent even as the blonde flared his nostrils and grunted quietly in Eijirou’s direction. “Sure,” Katsuki rumbled, sarcasm thick and heavy in his voice. “If you fuckin’ say so.”

He didn’t seem convinced and the red-headed alpha trudging along at his side had the wherewithal to stay quiet. Despite the trilling voices of Denki and Hanta floating in the distance behind them, the clamor of the village-people gathered in the square for the night’s preparations filled the air as the troupe passed them by.

Eijirou’s family were Musutafu’s own local meat-sellers and come every highnoon, Katsuki, Eijirou, and the others congregated at the butcher’s block settled behind their property. It was only a short trek from the hubbub of the village center, leaving the babble and excitement audible even as they all heaved their burlap sacks behind the Kirishima’s cabin to situate themselves for the preparation of their kills.

By the time they reached the wooden chopping block nestled beneath the thick, naked branches of a weathered tree, Katsuki felt sweat collecting at his brow. He grunted before loosening his grip, rolling his shoulders as the bag he was carrying fell onto the snow-covered ground with an unceremonious thump.

“Oi, Idiots One and Two,” Katsuki called out over his shoulder. “I’m tired of hearing you guys bitching, c’mon. Put yourselves to work and be useful for once.”

Neither of them seemed very phased by the prickliness of the alpha’s demeanor; instead, both of them flashed knowing grins and trotted over, their previous argument completely forgotten.

“You got it, boss!” Denki chirped, dropping into a crouch to open the sack he had been carrying. He stuffed a hand into it, rummaging through its contents before extracting a fat-looking pheasant. The goofy grin on his face didn’t falter as he held the bird by its legs, clearly pleased by the amount of meat on its bone. “With all the shit you managed to kill, it’s gonna take hours. Bet you I can skin and prep all these birds faster than all of ya!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but before he could growl back at him, Hanta trotted over. He had long-since given up on carrying his bag over his shoulder like the rest of them and instead resolved to drag it through the snow, leaving a trail behind in its wake. “Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna debone all of the damn salmon and I’ll still be done before you,” he goaded with a toothy grin of his own.

“Alright, alright, then get to it, you guys.” Eijirou sounded vaguely amused despite Katsuki’s obviously unimpressed expression. He squatted next to the butcher’s block before opening up his own burlap sack, picking a few stray fibers and tattered pieces of rope off of the material before peering into the contents of his own. Even from this distance, Katsuki could make out the look of mildly surprised glee. He didn’t bother looking up as he continued, “Bakugou and I will judge who the best is, but only after we’ve managed to get everything ready. We only have until dusk before the man of the hour’s gotta go get dressed.”

Eijirou lifted his head enough to give Katsuki a conspiratorial wink. This time, the blonde didn’t bother masking his loud, annoyed groan. He didn’t bother to deign the other with a response, instead taking the time to open the burlap sack he had been dragging back to the village to inspect its contents.

As soon as he loosened the opening and pulled the material apart, red eyes widened ever so slightly.

Eijirou was dragging around enough rabbits to furnish an entire colony, Hanta with a rather handsome run of salmon, and Denki with a collection of pheasants that would put even some of the greatest flocks to shame; Katsuki had half expected his own bag to be full of a variety of smaller animals–squirrels, quails, muskrats and their ilk–but what he saw left him feeling a sense of relieved gratitude for Hawks’s efforts that was foreign to him.

Two young fawns, curled in on each other and a small mountain goat–but tucked into the very bottom of the bag was another animal entirely. One with fiery-red fur and a thick, bushy tail.

A fox.

Winter foxes weren’t entirely uncommon during the season of leafbare; the plush white coats they donned allowed them to dart through mounds of snow undetected. A fox that still donned a brilliant orange pelt, however, was a rarity during the snow-covered moons.

They were too easily spotted, hunted by many for the novelty of such a unique fur color. Musutafu, while pleasant during its warmer seasons, very rarely housed foxes with such a lovely coat even during the peak of spring. Finding a fox with a bushy brindle tail and a blaze of fiery orange fur was a novelty–and its fur was often sold to foreign vendors for a pretty amount of gold.

But Hawks hadn’t hunted a fox to line Katsuki’s pocket with extra coin–he had hunted it to bring Katsuki something to share as an offering to the omega he had made a dismal attempt to court. Katsuki couldn’t even begin to fathom the look of surprise on Izuku’s expression if he was able to skin the animal, harvest its beautiful pelt, and bring it to him before the entire village.

Perhaps it would even show him that Katsuki’s need to impress and inspire awe wasn’t something exclusive to the village-people as a whole, but to him, too.

Katsuki didn’t realize he was frozen to the spot with bated breath until Eijirou cleared his throat at his side. The blonde alpha’s teeth clicked together hard enough for his skull to rattle as he hissed, nearly jolting in surprise at the other’s sudden proximity.

“Oi! The fuck do you want?” He spat out the question with a bit more frustration than necessary, but the subtle scent of cardamom and sandalwood wafting off of Eijirou didn’t sour.

“Nothing, I was just asking if you wanted any rope,” Eijirou offered.

Katsuki kicked himself. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts and apprehension that he hadn’t even registered the other’s question. Gritting his teeth, the alpha huffed and stuck out a scarred hand expectantly. “Obviously,” he griped, voice lowering to husky grumble, “so hand it over, y’idiot.”

He didn’t bother looking up when he felt the weight of something thick and rough against his palm. He twisted his fingers, gathering the length of rope Eijirou had dropped into his hand around his digits before exhaling a sigh. If he was going to make good time, he needed to let the blood drain from the deer. In the meantime, he could probably start on the fox…

It wasn’t until he heaved the two baby fawns out with a grunt that Eijirou startled at his side.

“Woah!” The red-haired alpha wheeled back around from where he was squatting to dump out the collection of rabbits he had been carrying. Eijirou gawked over Katsuki’s shoulder, scent spicing with his surprise. “Is that a fox?”

Katsuki swallowed around the lump lodged in his throat and gave a curt nod of confirmation. The alpha didn’t trust himself to speak without it being anything more than a quiet, bitter growl.

He stiffened as a congratulatory hand came down against the back of his shoulder. “Dude, that’s crazy!” Eijirou’s tone was jovial and buoyant as it always was but as he paused, the other alpha leaned in and flashed a lopsided grin. When he spoke next, it was with a conspiratorial whisper. “A red fox in winter is definitely a sign of good luck from Demeter.”

If Katsuki had a more distorted sense of humor, he may have barked out a sarcastic laugh.

The only thing Demeter had given him was a warning–one that had left his teeth on edge ever since the first glow of dawn. He flexed his jaw and flared his nostrils, forcing away all thoughts of ghoulish woodlands and blood-drenched riverbanks from his mind.

“Obviously,” Katsuki gritted out, ignoring the bitter taste of the lie against the back of his tongue. Instead of meeting Eijirou’s cheery expression, red eyes pointedly looked down. He busied his hands with placing the bundle of rope to the side in favor of pulling the canine from the bottom of the burlap sack by the tail. Katsuki held it up in the air as he tilted his head this way and that to examine it, inspecting the downy red fur for any scars or imperfections. He was careful to keep his voice low and lazy, an unaffected drawl that still somehow felt disingenuous. “Think I’d settle for anything less than a perfect fuckin’ sweep?”

“‘Course not!” Eijirou squatted at his side, a shaping knife in one hand and a plump rabbit in the other. “Always knew you’d kill it. Bet Midoriya’s gonna love it.”

Katsuki nearly flinched as something sharp and tight twinged within his chest. The alpha hated the way his heart squeezed in his chest as that unrelenting thread twining its way through his insides pulled taut without warning. He waited a moment too long to answer and when he finally did, all Katsuki was able to mumble was, “yeah, maybe.”

The methodical sound of Eijirou’s knife working into the piece of prey in his hand came to a sudden halt. Despite the distant sound of Hanta and Denki’s bickering, the silence settled between them began to feel oppressive.

Katsuki felt his jaw tick; Eijirou was a professional at filling long stretches of silence and though he would be hard pressed to admit it, Katsuki often relied on the other to keep the flow of conversation from ebbing into stagnation when he couldn’t bring himself to bark with his usual confidence and bravado. His silence was telling–and though the blonde could feel Eijirou’s sideways gaze burning into him, he refused to acknowledge it.

Eijirou set his knife down with a tired sigh and angled his body towards Katsuki. “Alright,” he started, voice dropping to a quiet rumble that couldn’t be heard over the din of the town square in the background. “It’s weird seeing you act like this. You’ve been waiting for this day for years and ever since then, you keep acting like everything’s been a mistake. I know you two aren’t exactly friends, but what gives?”

He always hated the selfless needling of those who insisted on trying to fix every little thing they could get their hands on; it reminded him too much of wide green eyes and concerned coos–of a time when he could have had it all and he let it slip between his fingers.

The familiar flicker of his alpha’s anger suddenly burned, forcing Katsuki to clench his teeth and swallow back a rumble. He hated that Eijirou had noticed it, that the facade he had worked so tirelessly to construct was crumbling so quickly–but with his friend’s eyes trained on him and nowhere to run, Katsuki found himself with his back against the wall.

“Because it is a mistake,” he finally mumbled, voice low and heavy with defeat. Katsuki refused to look up, red eyes trained down at the bright pelt of the fox still in his hands. “Deku and I… it’s not going to work. Even if She wants it to.”

“Why not?”

Gritting his teeth, Katsuki turned his head to shoot the red-head a pointed look through burning rubies.

“It just won’t!” Katsuki snapped. The familiar scent of evergreen and musk soured and turned bitter, leaving the air tasting of shame and regret. “He doesn’t want to be with anyone! Especially not me.” Before he could stop himself, the sharp bark of his voice deflated into a rasping hiss. “Not after what I did.”

The moment the words left his lips, Katsuki felt his stomach drop. His mouth felt dry and his tongue refused to cooperate as he swallowed. Eijirou leveled him with a wide-eyed look and as Katsuki tore his gaze away, he growled in resignation.

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Ei.” The blonde’s voice was quieter now, heavy with defeat. Shoulders slumped and he turned his head away, refusing to meet the imploring gaze burning into him. “It ain’t gonna happen. We’re just gonna get through this ceremony and when it’s over…”

“You’ll just let him go?” Eijirou hooted almost dubiously, forcing Katsuki’s shame to boil over into fresh annoyance all over again. “Bonds don’t work like that, man. You know that.”

Bonds between mates were a sacred connection, one blessed by Demeter, Herself. Even those who weren’t chosen by Her particular hand knew better than to desecrate the gift She had given them; after all, without Her blessings of fertility, how else would their village flourish with healthy numbers and thriving crops? Bonds were meant to be chosen with care and with grace–and once one was established, reversing its effects was an impossible task that bordered on both heresy and blasphemy.

When an alpha and an omega form their Bond, they’re lives will forever be intertwined; some say that the stronger their connection is, the more they could feel from one another. Amplified emotions, an unspoken understanding, and a kinship that was impossible to find elsewhere–it was all a part of the magic that came with Bonding.

A soulmate’s Bond was rumored to be somehow even stronger–like a lifeline. There were tales of alphas and omegas that would die within days of their soulmate if they perished in war or from illness. Wives’ tales and folklore were often difficult to discern from truth and reality, but the principle of the matter still stood steadfast: even if all Katsuki wanted was to turn his back on it, to cut their soultie and let Izuku run free, it would be impossible.

They were trapped in a divine dance in the palm of Demeter’s very hand and the sooner they came to terms with it, the better.

He swallowed thickly and when he spoke next, Katsuki’s soured pheromones thickened in a noxious plume around him.

“We might be stuck with it,” Katsuki conceded slowly, voice dropping to a near whisper, “but that doesn’t mean we have to live our lives together. We’re too different.”

If Eijirou had scoffed at him, thrown his knife down into the snow in frustration, or even thumped him on the back of his head for his stubbornness, Katsuki would have expected it. Instead, that firm comforting hand pressed to his shoulder once more. The blonde nearly flinched under the familiar weight of his touch and as his teeth clicked together, all Katsuki could do was hiss out a quiet tch under his breath.

“You know Mina and I don’t always get alone either, right?” Eijirou’s question was quiet, almost gentle, as the comforting and familiar scent of cardamom and sandalwood wafted over him. He gave Katsuki’s shoulder a small squeeze despite the way the blonde tensed under his touch. “Everyone… has issues. I dunno what yours are and maybe I’m totally wrong, but… y’know, sometimes just trying a little helps a lot more than you’d think.”

“You’re right.” Katsuki gave a haughty sniff, hoping the pitiful state of his own pheromones didn’t betray him too heavily. “You are wrong. It ain’t like you and Mina at all.”

Eijirou sighed. “Maybe not, but… whatever it is that happened between you two, you can at least… try to fix it, you know? Sometimes, it’s the effort that matters more than anything else, y’know? It’s not like we’re a perfect couple either.”

It was Katsuki’s turn to swallow back the urge to heave a tired sigh. He and his troupe of warriors had attended the same lessons and trained side-by-side–but back then, there were others, too. Mina was a spirited and effervescent alpha that could charm her way through life without a care in the world, but she was also a formidable and valiant fighter that weaponized her disarming charisma.

Eijirou and her had grown up together–much like Katsuki and Izuku did when they were pups–and somewhere along the way, during the warm, dusky twilights between their lessons, they formed a connection that exceeded friendship and camaraderie. In Musutafu, a village that prided tradition and culture above all else, their choice to take one another as a mate was met with a ripple of mixed reactions.

Katsuki hadn’t cared much. Mina was a strong alpha who would surely have made for an excellent warrior had she chosen to follow such a path and Eijirou was a brave and honest comrade that he was thankful to have on his side. Their match made sense to him on the most basic level–natures be damned. His alpha was strong and potent, a victim of its own instincts, but he knew well and good that not everyone felt the wolf within him anywhere near as intensely.

Still–two alphas tethered together were bound to butt heads. The stubborn truth of their inner natures wasn’t a secret to anyone. Izuku was an omega and Katsuki still found it damn near impossible to understand him despite their so-called divine connection. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the effort needed to wrangle an alpha that was as equally obstinate as him.

Katsuki conceded with a tired groan, unable to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. “And?” He asked the question deliberately, hoping the gruffness of his voice offset the pleading expectation that lurked just beneath. He glanced at Eijirou from the corner of his eye as he lowered his head, busying his hands with setting the fox aside to instead rummage through the collection of knives and daggers strapped to the thick leather belt around his waist. “What’s your point?” His tone was reluctant and begrudging but to his relief, Eijirou’s lips curled into a lopsided smile.

“My point,” Eijirou continued, “is that sometimes, when there’s tension that seems impossible to get through, the first step is to just… try. I know it sounds stupid, but effort goes a long way. Yeah, maybe you and Midoriya have a complicated past, but if you can just show him you’re actually trying, maybe he’ll warm back up to you.”

Katsuki fell silent and his hands went still. It’s not that easy–the words were balanced at the very tip of Katsuki’s tongue, on the precipice of tumbling past his lips, but as his mind wandered, he couldn’t help but let his teeth dig into the inside of his cheek. The day before, he had failed to deliver the apology he had rehearsed for hours prior to an almost abysmal degree… but earlier today, when he thought he had only poured more salt into the wound, the green-haired omega had paused to timidly offer his thanks to Katsuki.

All because he had taken the time to help him gather the herbs that Katsuki, himself, had nearly trashed.

“Right,” the blonde finally grunted, narrowing his eyes as he let his fingers clasp around the handle of his favorite carving knife. “I guess you have a point.”

Eijirou slapped a hand against Katsuki’s shoulder hard enough to force the alpha to snap his teeth together and hiss in defiance. Before he could punch the red-head in the chest with a foul-mouthed slew of curses, Eijirou grinned and hooked an arm around Katsuki’s neck to pull him into his side.

“Atta boy!” He snickered and whooped to Katsuki’s chagrin, releasing the blonde only when the other alpha dug an elbow sharply into his stomach. “Just give him a shot! Sometimes, showing your support will prove that you actually mean it, y’know? Show Midoriya you’re on his side and I bet he’ll come around.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Katsuki huffed, snatching his knife in one hand and the fox by the tail in the other. He turned on his heel and stalked towards the thick, weathered tree next to the butcher’s block. Katsuki could hear Eijirou’s footsteps closely behind him and despite the subtle shake of his head, the blonde tongued at the tapered point of a canine to conceal the smile threatening to tug at his lips. “If yer half as good at giving advice as you are with shootin’ a damn arrow, then maybe you have a point.”

The red-head was at his side only moments later, nudging him gently with a big, beaming smile of his own as Katsuki hooked the bundle of rope over a branch jutting out from the tree and moved to place the fox on the smooth, wooden surface of the table.

“I believe in you, man,” Eijirou tacked on–and though there was a teasing lilt to his words, Katsuki didn’t miss the genuine admiration that lingered in his rasp. “I just want you to be happy, y’know?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes once more and grunted in response, unsure if he had the words to express the sense of relief and gratitude that Eijirou’s words had instilled in him. The soured and curdled edge to his scent had finally abated, leaving the air smelling of fresh, evergreen pine.

Tonight, the alpha decided, would be the night he dug his heels in to do what he failed to do every day since Demeter had granted him his soulmark. Tonight, he’d bring the brilliant orange pelt of a red fox as an offering, a gift to pacify the omega he had done nothing but hurt over and over again. It would be a long and arduous battle–but Katsuki had never been one to give up. He was an alpha made for war–and this fight would be no exception.

The delicate red thread stitched against the inside of his left wrist didn’t burn or sting as his thoughts wandered; instead, something warm and alive thrummed through his veins–as if the soulmark had its own heartbeat. It didn’t leave his fingers twitching in discomfort nor did the muscles in his arms flex with unease. He was able to bask in the muted glow of it as he and Eijirou fell into step side by side, cutting into their kills with the practiced fluidity of seasoned huntsmen.

A renewed sense of vigor coursed through him and for the first time since that day, Katsuki felt ready for what lay ahead.

Up until now, he had always focused his mind on achieving a singular goal–to prove himself as the strongest warrior his village had ever seen. Alphas of his status and power were primal creatures, victims of their most base instincts–and while many of his peers grew omega-crazed after they came of age, Katsuki never entertained the possibility. Back then, he had credited it to a disinterest in things that were both frivolous and complicated.

Now, though, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his ambition that made him feel that way, or if it was just another example of his alpha’s reluctance to accept anyone but the omega with the wild green curls and constellation of freckles dotting his cheeks. It wasn’t as if he had a shortage of options; many an anxious dam had appeared at Mitsuki’s doorstep to beg her for her son’s hand in courtship for their very single, very eligible omega child.

Even War Chief Todoroki had done the same.

There was a point in time, not even four moons prior, that the Chief had approached Katsuki after a particularly long training session to gauge his interest in taking Shoto as his mate; the blonde couldn’t bring himself to give any less of a fuck about it, truly, but he’d be hard-pressed to ignore Musutafu’s own leader when he came with a proposition.

He had spent the few weeks contemplating what he had assumed would be his future; looking at Shoto Todoroki made Katsuki feel…. nothing.

Nothing at all.

Shoto was beautiful. Anyone with two eyes could see that much. He was demure, well-spoken, and trained to be everything the perfect omega should be. Katsuki had even indulged the Chief, joining Shoto for a chaperoned walk through the gardens nestled within the expansive property of the Todoroki Estate. Hawks was perched on the tree-line, watching with piercing golden eyes as the alpha and omega walked side by side in stifling silence.

Their conversation was awkward at best; Shoto, while well-mannered, had a habit of being blunt in a way that rubbed the alpha the wrong way. On top of that, the omega’s nose was scrunched in mild distaste the entire time. Katsuki couldn’t particularly blame him; the lavender and linen of Shoto’s own pheromones left his stomach turning. He smelled antiseptic, a far cry from the fresh petals of wildflowers or the sticky sweetness of honey.

Their incompatibility was obvious–but Katsuki had made his peace with it when the entire village whispered of the solstice ceremony that lingered on the horizon. It only made sense, the village people reasoned, for Musutafu’s prince to take the hand of the strongest alpha of the new generation

Now, Katsuki realized, his lack of feelings towards the Todoroki heir wasn’t from a lack of interest in mates or bonds–but because his volatile inner nature howled for another.

An omega so difficult that he was overcome with too many emotions to process at any given time.

But Katsuki knew better now–and with Eijirou’s words still echoing in his ears, he squared his shoulders and allowed muscle memory to take over as he skinned the creature before him. The rhythmic sound of blades cutting through soft fur filled the air as he considered his options.

Katsuki Bakugou was notoriously bad at apologizing–and though he had already failed time and time again, he knew what he had to do. His chest felt lighter, like the thread that had constricted around his heart had finally loosened.

Things were finally starting to look up and with his warriors working tirelessly at his side to ensure that tonight’s feast would be a success, Katsuki allowed the tension coiled within his muscles begin to finally melt away.

Time always did move more quickly when he had something to keep his hands busy; the familiar movements of his knife against the soft flesh of a hunted animal was a welcome reprieve; Eijirou dutifully quartered his rabbits one by one, separating out each portion at his side. Even Denki and Hanta were focused, their neverending bickering continuing in full stride. Katsuki had learned to tune it out long ago, but as time passed by, the sound of mild confusion in the din of their voices forced Katsuki to go still.

Eijirou’s own movements came to a halt, too. He paused only to cast Katsuki a sideways glance, one brow raised in confusion and a small frown on his lips. The blonde gave an imperceptible shake of his head, as if to say we should just ignore them.

The red-head lifted a single shoulder in a half-hearted shrug before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

Only a few more seconds passed before Hanta’s voice grew louder still.

“Denki–shut up for a second, will ya?”

“No way, you jerk! You totally cheated!” The sound of a knife being thrown into the snow in frustration followed suit. “That bird already had a bald-spot, you didn’t butcher it faster than me!”

“No, dude, I mean–look!” The unease that had colored Hanta’s voice earlier only deepened, forcing Katsuki and Eijirou to exchange another look before setting their knives down slowly.

“Huh?” The confusion was palpable in Denki’s inelegant grunt and as Katsuki turned to finally face the other two alphas, he saw Hanta with wide eyes and a hand lifted to point an accusatory finger overhead.

“The sky,” Hanta exhaled, voice quivering the slightest bit. “What’s… what’s wrong with the sky?”

All Katsuki saw were thin, wispy clouds floating unceremoniously against a cold, gray winter sky. It seemed unremarkable at best, but even as he squinted up at it, he could feel the hair at the back of his neck begin to stand on end. Something unsettling permeated the air–and it wasn’t just him who felt it. The familiar scent of sandalwood and cardamom that Katsuki associated with Eijirou soured in discomfort as he silently studied the clouds overhead, too.

“Holy shit,” Denki whispered, his own eyes growing wide as he tilted his head back to stare up at what Katsuki had initially deemed to be an unremarkable sight. “What’s wrong with the sun?”

In an instant, the world around him plunged into darkness.

The sun, something Katsuki and the rest of his village had always taken for granted, was eclipsed by a dark shadow. A disc of pure, void-like black obscured it entirely, leaving nothing but pitch black darkness in its wake.

The background din of the village coming together to ready their vibrant town square for their beloved festivities quieted entirely, leaving an eerie silence settling over them all. It was thick and suffocating–like all life had ceased to exist in that brief moment as Musutafu fell into the shadows completely.

The sun… was gone.

Katsuki’s heart stopped and his blood ran cold. Eijirou tensed at his side before yelling out to Denki and Hanta. Katsuki couldn’t make out what he was saying, his ears too full of cotton.

The sun was gone.

Somewhere in the distance, the panicked babble of the village people in the square warbled through the air. He couldn’t move; his body felt tight, every last fiber of his muscles coiled and pulled taut–like he would snap at any given moment.

The sun was gone and his wrist burned.

With a twitch of his fingers, Katsuki’s trembling hand balled into a fist at his side. There was a hollowness in his chest that left the alpha wheezing with every breath he dragged into his lungs. The delicate thread stitched against the inside of his wrist pulled suddenly, forcing a hiss out through his gritted teeth.

She had warned him–and he was too late.

The sun was gone and it was all his fault.

This wasn’t a coincidence. This was the first act… and if Katsuki didn’t beg Her for forgiveness soon, he couldn’t begin to imagine what could come next. His nightmare had been plagued by the darkness–and though he couldn’t remember more than fractured images and splintered pieces, visions of rotted animal corpses and rivers that ran black with blood left the inside of his skull pounding.

He didn’t realize he was running until Eijirou shouted after him.

“Bakugou! Where are you going? We need to get to the War Chief!”

The ground pounded under his feet and his heart kickstarted back to life, fresh adrenaline leaving his head spinning. Katsuki didn’t waste any time or breath in answering him. He had none to spare–not when he knew, knew deep in his heart, that if he didn’t fix this soon, the darkness would become the least of their worries.

Wait for me, Izuku, Katsuki begged. I’ll fix this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* ｡ﾟ ───

His body moved on its own–there was no other explanation for the way Katsuki found himself stumbling through the shallow throng of trees fringing the meadow he once considered sacred.

The darkness hung heavily around him, leaving a world that once seemed brilliant shrouded in shadows. The thin branches of the trees arching high overhead wavered in the cold breeze and with every burning breath Katsuki dragged into his lungs, he could feel the adrenaline spiking further and further within him.

As he blindly stumbled his way into the clearing, red eyes grew wide and wild. They flicked this way and that as the hopelessness blooming within his chest slowly began to take root inside of his heart. He was alone and the uneven lurching of Katsuki’s pounding heart only amplified.

His footsteps came to an abrupt halt and the only sound that hung in the air was the rasp of his ragged breaths. The darkness settled over the clearing was suffocating. There was a lingering sense of dread and hopelessness eating away at his insides, forcing his stomach to clench and nausea to roll through him–but as shaking hands grasped warily at the hilt of his sword, Katsuki knew he was trapped in his own nightmare. No amount of valiance and bravery could save him now.

Katsuki had no choice but to buckle under the weight of his own guilt.

The alpha’s knees shook and his head began to spin. Even with his white-knuckled grip clutching around the handle of his weapon, Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so powerless. The emptiness of the clearing was haunting and despite the initial spike of adrenaline that had driven him here, he found himself at a loss.

Why had he come here at all? Why did his legs carry him this far?

Katsuki’s mind felt sluggish. It was in this very clearing that his alpha had howled for the omega it had imprinted on all those years ago. Once full of fond memories that tasted of summer skies and childish glee, it now felt empty and hollow. A husk of its former glory.

He felt like a ghost haunting an old memory–but as he stood at the edge of the meadow, heart pounding and his palms growing sweaty, he knew in his heart exactly why he had come here of all places.

“Kacchan! Oh… thank goodness.”

Katsuki froze at the sound of his voice, heart pounding so loudly that he almost thought he imagined it. Red eyes darted this way and that, barely able to make out the silhouette of the trees at the meadow’s edge in the darkness. His breaths came in ragged gasps and his skin felt too tight for his bones–but despite the panic, the adrenaline, that left blood roaring in his ears, he somehow knew exactly where the source of that familiar, trembling cadence stood.

With a quiet growl, the alpha jerked his head to the side and even in the shadows, Katsuki found him. Thick, unruly curls that caught what little light was left after the sun was swallowed bounced as a smaller figure stumbled its way into the clearing. The alpha within him howled, relieved to find him in the frightening darkness.

Safe, it crooned. Omega is safe.

Katsuki couldn’t make out the details of his face as Izuku came to a halt three steps into the snow-covered meadow. The alpha didn’t trust his voice to speak with how his throat still felt too tight and his breaths came in strained, labored puffs.

They both tensed, standing before one another less than six feet apart. Katsuki felt how his inner alpha growled, hackles rising as the inexplicable urge to reach for Izuku nearly overpowered him. He flexed his fingers and curled them tightly at his sides to form white-knuckled fists. The sound of their ragged breaths was the only disruption to the thick, suffocating silence that settled over them as they stood motionless in the dark.

Katsuki opened his mouth only to close it, struggling to find something, anything to say.

I’m sorry. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, burning his mouth and choking him from the inside out. I’m sorry, this is my fault.

Izuku broke the silence before Katsuki found the resolve to speak.

“I-I… I didn’t know where else to go.”

It was a confession, small and hesitant. Izuku’s voice trembled and as the alpha’s wild carmine gaze searched through the shadows. Wide greens peered back at him helplessly and even in the shadows, Katsuki found himself pinned underneath the omega’s frantic gaze. The stench of rotted wood in Katsuki’s pheromones mingled with the distressed scent of Izuku’s own, overlapping with the reek of wilted flowers and decaying honeycombs.

“Deku,” he breathed out. His tone almost bordered relief if it weren’t for the panic that lingered, leaving his pheromones bitter and acrid. “Fuck.” Before he could stop himself, Katsuki lurched forward. He took one, two, three hesitant steps before a shudder worked its way down his spine.

He came to a halt at the center of the clearing and at this distance, Katsuki could just barely make out the outline of Izuku’s silhouette. Even through the shadows, the alpha couldn’t help but trace the curves of Izuku’s shoulders as they trembled. He looked as if he was huddled over ever so slightly, hands clutching at his chest. It was a strain to make out much more than that, but it was enough to leave his nostrils flaring and his brows pinched.

Was he hurt? Did Demeter decide to punish him even more already? Was a warning not enough?

His skull pounded, but as the alpha gritted his teeth, Katsuki forced himself to speak.

“We need to talk.” His words didn’t sound human even to his own ears; his voice was more of a ragged growl, like the rumblings of a beast attempting to masquerade as a man. He half expected Izuku to flinch, but the omega stood steadfast before him, shaking shoulders squaring as he inhaled a trembling breath of his own.

Katsuki couldn’t see it through the dark, but he could all but hear the way Izuku’s lips pursed. “Yeah,” he agreed, and though his voice was small, the blonde could all but feel how hard the omega was trying to keep his calm. “I… I don’t know how, but… I knew I’d find you here.”

The warm thrum of his soulmark had died out and as Izuku hesitantly spoke, it began to burn again. Katsuki gritted his teeth and gave a curt nod.

“Same for me,” Katsuki agreed reluctantly. His voice was still tight and curt, that rumbling edge only deepening. He clenched and unclenched his teeth as another momentary stretch of suffocating silence settled over them. As Katsuki parted his lips, he forced himself to keep his tone as even as he could manage. He enunciated each word, each syllable, with caution–as if he was confessing to a sin, himself.

“This… is wrong. The sun disappearing… it ain’t fuckin’ natural. And–” The alpha felt his throat tighten, low rumble fracturing ever so slightly before he flared his nostrils and forced himself to push through. “And… I think I know why it happened.”

A subtle movement caught his eye. Red hues flicked down to the arms that Izuku had tucked close to his chest; the shadows were barely imperceptible in the dark, but his wide pupils could make out the way his clutching grip tightened by a fraction. Was he holding something? Or was he hurt? It was impossible to tell and it only made his skin crawl even more and the tight knot of anxiety nestled in the pit of his stomach to clench without warning.

“I think,” Izuku whispered, voice small and feeble as he lowered his head in defeat, “I know why, too.”

Katsuki’s heart froze.

Of course he knew, Katsuki thought bitterly. Of course he knew this was because of me. After everything, how could he not know? With only three nights before the solstice, why else would Demeter steal the sun from the sky if not because of him?

His alpha recoiled with a melancholy howl as numbness webbed through his veins, forcing his blood to run cold and his chest to grow tight. Katsuki nearly choked on his words, tongue refusing to cooperate with him as he forced himself to say, “I shouldn’t have waited until it was too late.”

“No!” Izuku blurted out, breath catching as his head shot up. The omega moved so suddenly that Katsuki nearly growled in response, muscles growing tight as he poised himself in case he needed to lunge forward to keep Izuku from tumbling to the ground. But the green-haired boy didn’t move. He stood motionless, arms held close to his chest and wide, luminous eyes catching what little light was left as he looked helplessly up at the blonde. “No, you–we couldn’t have known. This… this is all…” Izuku’s words wavered as his voice grew thick and tight. “This is all my fault.”

As if his blood couldn’t get any colder, Katsuki felt himself freeze–as if he’d been dragged beneath the frigid currents of an iced-over lake, trapped beneath the surface and forced to drown in it.

“Shut up,” he hissed suddenly, unable to keep the rasp out of his growl. “Don’t say shit like that.”

Because it’s not you, it’s me–it’s my fault. I did this to you. To everyone.

He opened his mouth, breaths still ragged and chest impossibly tight. Katsuki felt his fingers twitch involuntarily at his side, the sharp, burning sting nearly making his eyes water. Even in the darkness, he could tell Izuku felt it, too, as the omega tried to swallow back a pained whimper. But before he could say it, before he could take the blame he so rightfully deserved, Izuku cut him off.

“Why not, Kacchan?” Izuku sounded exasperated, like a lost pup that was at his wits end. His words trembled and quivered with the tears he was so bravely trying to hold back, but even with the years of distance between them, Katsuki could hear the wet sniff the omega was trying so desperately to mask.

“It’s–it’s true. I’ve read about things like this before! It’s–it’s called an eclipse. A solar eclipse–they’re rare and almost never happen, but when they do–” Izuku choked suddenly and even in the dark, Katsuki could make out the way he clasped one hand over his mouth. As if to quiet the sob he had been fighting so valiantly to contain. “When they do, it’s called an omen. Demeter… She’s furious.” His voice finally splintered with the sob he couldn’t fight back any longer. “She’s angry and that’s why She sent us an omen.”

An omen.

It somehow felt even more final, even more sinister than a simple warning.

As the reality of it began to burrow into his bones, Katsuki clenched his jaw. Somehow, a simple apology didn’t feel like it would suffice anymore. Empty promises and platitudes would do nothing if the sun’s ominous disappearance from the sky was more than just a signal. He could profess to Izuku that he’d get down on his knees to beg for his forgiveness and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Because omens came in numbers. Sometimes in pairs, sometimes in threes. Warnings could stand alone… but an omen meant there was more to come. A neverending darkness, rotted corpses and sick cattle, death and disease lurking in the shadow-covered corners–where Demeter had once promised blessings, they would find horror.

Katsuki felt ill. His stomach clenched and he had to swallow back the bitter bile soiling the back of his throat. “We need to do something.” The alpha didn’t realize he was speaking until the ragged edge to his rasping growl filled his ears. “We can’t let this happen.”

Izuku bobbed his head in a nod, wiping the tears from his eyes with a small sniff. “No, we can’t,” he agreed solemnly, voice still trembling. But as the omega inhaled sharply, Katsuki could pick up a determined spike of fresh wildflowers permeating the stench of decaying plants and rotted honeycombs. Exhaling a shuddering sigh, Izuku continued with as much confidence as he could muster. “And I know how to fix this. There’s only one way, Kacchan. So, please. Just… listen to me.”

Burning carmines locked with pleading greens and Katsuki felt his mouth run dry. Eijirou’s words from earlier echoed through his head, reminding him of one thing.

The first step is to just… try.

If there was ever going to be a moment where Katsuki had to accept Izuku despite every last instinct within him that screamed to take his hand and run to the temple settled on the cliffsides to beg Demeter for forgiveness, this was it. Flaring his nostrils, he took a deep breath and dipped his head in a numb nod. He didn’t dare speak, but he knew that Izuku had seen his acknowledgment.

Izuku took one last shuddering breath and when he finally spoke, Katsuki felt the world around him shatter.

“I know how to unbond us, it’s the only way.”

Katsuki’s ears were ringing. Izuku’s voice sounded murky and faraway–as if he’d been pulled deep underwater. As his heart lurched painfully in his chest, the alpha couldn’t help the pained hiss he gritted out through clenched teeth as his wrist burned hot enough for a searing, white-hot pain to scorch through the veins webbing their way up his arms.

“You… what?” Katsuki’s whisper was hoarse and incredulous as red eyes desperately tried to search what little he could make of Izuku’s expression in the dark.

“I… I know how to unbond us. And–and it’s the only way for us to make Her happy again. She’s angry, Kacchan. At us.” The desperation in his plea only made the beast dwelling within Katsuki thrash violently in protest.

The blonde felt himself shudder, muscles rippling and teeth chattering, but as he clenched his fists at his side, he forced himself to swallow down the unease that made his stomach twist.

The first step is to try, he reminded himself.

Omega doesn’t want us, his alpha howled in anguish.

The first step is to just fucking try.

Katsuki opened his mouth to speak–but nothing came out. All he could do was wheeze with labored breaths and growl as he tried to quell the sudden burn in his chest. His skin felt hot and too tight around his bones. His gums ached. Something inside of him screamed.

He didn’t want this.

He wanted more–wanted to prove that he was a mate worth taking. That this wasn’t a mistake at all–that he had simply been too young, too dumb, too foolish to see what had been in front of him all this time.

But as Izuku looked at him with wide green eyes still glassy with tears, trembling in the cold, desolate darkness of Katsuki’s own making, the alpha felt something inside of him wither.

He had to try–and if this… if unbonding them was what Izuku wanted, then there was no other choice for Katsuki to make.

Demeter had warned him that failing to embrace what was given to him was the gravest of sins–and if the very thing he wanted to hold for himself, to keep forever, wanted nothing more to do with him, then who was he to say otherwise?

If this is what Izuku wanted, then Katsuki would embrace it. Embracing Izuku meant accepting his wants, his desires–and just as he had suspected from the start, the omega had made up his mind. Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t the kind of alpha that Izuku would ever willingly tether himself to–and now, he’d make sure that the omega got exactly what it is that he wanted.

Bonds, however, were sacred–a divine right.

They connected an alpha and an omega for eternity. To sever a bond would be sacrilege… especially a bond chosen by Demeter, Herself. He couldn’t fathom what it would take to cut the gossamer thread that had twined their souls together. But in spite of himself, Katsuki swallowed and exhaled a slow, shuddering breath to steel himself.

“Is that what you want?” The question was heavy and serious, leaving Katsuki’s lips in a low, solemn murmur.

There was a pause, as if Izuku was hesitating, but it lasted for only a second before the omega quietly whispered, “yes. It’s the only way… who knows what Demeter may do next…”

It felt perverse and grim to leave Izuku’s question hanging, but Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to answer him. The omega was already fretting, scent still sour and curdled. He already knew that whatever it was that their goddess would punish them with, it would be far more severe than having the village plunged into darkness.

Katsuki pressed his lips together tightly. He didn’t know what to say, his tongue still numb and heavy in his mouth as the bitter howls of his alpha left his thoughts disjointed and reeling. He was beginning to feel light-headed and dizzy, forcing Katsuki to dig his heels into the snow as he dragged slow, shuddering breaths in one by one.

“Okay,” the alpha finally breathed out, voice still tight and tense. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Izuku inhaled sharply. The rank stench of rotting plants gave way to a meadow full of blooming wildflowers. If Katsuki closed his eyes and ignored the plague of darkness surrounding them, he could almost imagine their favorite clearing in the height of summer, brimming with blooming petals and tall fronds of grass.

“Kacchan… thank you.” The omega’s voice trembled with another thinly-veiled sob. “Thank you. I… I know it’s wrong. That it’s technically blasphemy, but–”

The sound of faraway shouts in the distance forced Izuku to stall. Katsuki tensed and glanced over his shoulders with a grunt. His nostrils flared and though the cold winter air didn’t carry any scents on the breeze, he could make out the raspy cadence of Eijirou’s voice mingling with Hanta and Denki’s.

His warriors were searching for him.

“Shit,” he growled, one hand already reaching for the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. The closer they got, it became clear they were calling out for him–no doubt searching for their troupe leader to report back to the War Chief to find a way to settle the hysteria that had undoubtedly taken root with the village-people.

“Go,” Izuku whispered, forcing Katsuki’s head to snap back and cast him a wild-eyed look of shock. “It’s okay. They need you right now. Just…” He hesitated again and when Izuku started again, his voice was small and timid. “My house? Tonight? I’ll show you everything about how we can break our bond.”

The numbness didn’t subside. The only thing Katsuki could feel was his wrist burning in protest and the desolate echoes of his alpha’s last howls as they reverberated against the inside of his skull.

But he had no choice, so Katsuki nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to speak; his mouth and his tongue refused to work and his throat felt far too tight. Instead, he searched the dark until he found Izuku’s familiar, wide-eyed gaze and held it for one long moment.

Katsuki could only hope that even through the shadows, Izuku could see the truth: that he’d do anything right now if it meant Izuku got whatever it is he wanted. Even if it meant turning against their village, their traditions, their Goddess.

For him, anything.

The first step was to try–and he’d do just that even if it meant killing the very beast that had driven him to this point. They looked at one another for only a split second longer before the alpha turned on his heel and disappeared into the treeline.

As the darkness swallowed him once more, Katsuki could only hope that She would see that he wanted nothing more than to pay penance for all of his sins.

Chapter Text

Night fell over the village before the sun could return to its rightful place in the sky. Darkness bled into more darkness and an evening that was meant to be spent celebrating over a bonfire had grown desolate in the eerie silence.

The hopelessness that hung in the air felt thick and noxious and the longer it lingered, the more Izuku felt his stomach clench with dread. Despite the warmth radiating from the flickering flames just beyond the hearth, the omega couldn’t shake off the bone-deep chill that had taken root when the sun first disappeared. Though hours had passed since then, Izuku couldn’t help the knot of anxiety tightening in the pit of his stomach.

He should have known that it was too late, that Demeter had finally turned Her back on him. He had been too stupid, too blind to think of anything more than his selfish frustrations and now, his people would suffer because of it. Izuku pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes as the familiar, heated pressure of frustrated tears began to build up behind them.

A defeated groan caught in his throat as he swallowed. As the omega gritted his teeth, he willed himself to ignore the aching sting burning through his wrist.

She had plunged them all into darkness and Gods only knew how long they had left before there was worse to come; Izuku had always been the kind of omega to have his nose stuffed in a good book when the others focused on improving their needlework or tea-brewing skills–and if there was one thing he had learned from the fantastical and magical worlds buried away in words on a page, it was that omens came in threes. Her first warning had been enough and if Izuku didn’t do his damndest to get back into Her good favors soon, he could only imagine the horrors that may come next.

Even with the rest of their people fleeing to seek shelter under their roofs while they prayed to their Goddess for light to return once more, Izuku knew that sitting idly would do nothing. He already knew what he had to do–but now, the urgency behind it held grim consequences. The omega had steeled his nerves and hardened his resolve for what would inevitably come next.

Izuku could only hope that Kacchan would understand, too.

His bedroom was in disarray. His bedroll remained unmade, little more than a heap of knotted sheets and blankets, while a smattering of loose parchment scrolls littered the narrow wooden desk crammed into the farthest corner of his room. The dwindling glow of the candle flickering on the shelf hammered into the wall barely illuminated the open pages of a leather-bound tome. The margins were full of indecipherable scribbles–all in a foreign script that Izuku had long-since grown frustrated attempting to decode.

Izuku had been able to scour the materials he had squirreled away enough to glean bits and pieces–and what little information the omega could find all pointed to the same answer.

Unbonding.

As Izuku inhaled a shuddering breath through his nose, he pulled his hands away from his eyes and forced himself to stave off the spike of adrenaline threatening to course through him. He scratched idly at his aching soulmark, head tilting back enough to stare blankly up at the ceiling. Night had fallen long enough ago that the anxiety within him had begun to slowly simmer the longer the silence of his empty bedroom stretched on.

He had promised, izuku reminded himself as stubbornly as he could. Kacchan promised.

The omega inside of him whimpered softly. Not wanted, it cooed. Won’t come.

Izuku curled his hand into a fist at his side, blunt nails digging crescent-shaped welts into his palms.

Ever since that night, the feeble creature he had spent so many years stonewalling from his consciousness only ever roused to howl with melancholy, lamenting a bond it never got to have. His chest ached and as Izuku forced himself to inhale a small, shuddering breath, he found his thoughts wandering back to the way his omega had curled in on itself that very morning.

Toshinori had spent many a twilight evening and an endless number of hours teaching Izuku every last detail of what it meant to be a warrior; they trained long into the night, well after the glowing orange sunset had finally faded into a star-flecked night sky. He’d practice his kicks, the swishes and points of his sword–he’d do it over and over again, until his knuckles were bloody and his muscles screamed in protest.

Burning carmines and bared teeth–the sight of them alone had been enough to make his omega whine in defeat. As the pointed tip of his blade quivered, Izuku came face to face with the very alpha he had been hoping to avoid…

And all he could do was cower in fear. It wasn’t bravery that filled his heart then, but something else entirely.

Rejection–it left him empty and nauseated even after the adrenaline had finally subsided. The fury behind ruby depths quickly shifted into confusion and then frustration, but it did little to quell the uneasiness prickling in the pit of Izuku’s stomach.

Even when Kacchan’s twisted snarl became a concerned grimace and his growls faded into petulant mumbles, Izuku couldn’t stave the feeling off enough to ease his omega’s discomfort. Hours passed and still, something pulled at his chest–a delicate thread, tethering him to the feelings he had tried to keep buried away for so long.

Their awkward conversation left far more unspoken between them than they had started with–and though the questions lingered heavily on the back of Izuku’s tongue, the omega had turned his back and returned to the safety of Musutafu with fresh doubts. His satchel felt heavy, like it had been weighed down by stones rather than a scroll and a tome, and his brows pinched enough to leave a crease forming.

While his omega heaved one melancholy coo after another at the thought of alpha’s anger, Izuku couldn’t help but linger on the fact that Kacchan had talked to him–really talked to him–for the first time in years.

And he promised. He looked Izuku in the eyes and said he would come tonight–and if there was one thing he knew about Kacchan, it was that he never minced words.

He was an alpha of integrity–albeit a hot-tempered and foul-mouthed one–and that meant his word was both reliable and trustworthy. Izuku had admired that about him ever since they were wide-eyed pups, mystified by Kacchan and his resolve.

Despite the anxiety and apprehension swirling within him, Izuku knew he had no choice but to trust him. He closed his eyes and willed himself to swallow down the sinking feeling coiled in the pit of his stomach and forced himself to accept the uncertainty of it all. When Izuku parted his lips to inhale a trembling breath to steady his fraying nerves, he nearly choked on his tongue as the sound of three sharp taps against the window cut through the silence.

Izuku startled, barely managing to bite back his yelp of surprise. Tension left his muscles tight and rigid, but as he turned to peer over his shoulder, wide green eyes made out the glittering carmines peering back at him, glittering in the dark despite the thick, frosted glass of the windowpane.

“Oh!” Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin as recognition dawned on him, soft green curls bouncing as he darted over to unlatch the lock. The omega grunted as he braced himself, puffing his cheeks before sliding the window free from its sill with elbows locked and teeth gritted. He only managed to budge it by a few centimeters, cursing himself for how it had grown stagnant and rusted from being shut tight for so long–but before he could puff another deep breath to muster up more of his strength to pry it open, a large hand snaked in through the gap to grip tightly at the bottom edge.

The omega nearly squeaked in alarm but before he could swat it away in protest, Izuku felt his ears prick at the sound of a thinly-veiled growl that the thick glass barely managed to mute. One swift movement was all it took to leave the windowpane squealing in protest as it slid all the way up. Brittle, frigid air immediately swept through the room, leaving Izuku’s teeth chattering gooseflesh rising against the back of his neck.

He hugged his arms around himself, lower lip wobbling ever so slightly as he managed to stumble two steps back–and before Izuku could part his lips to get out an awkward greeting, a slew of grumbled-out curses seethed through the air.

“--think you can just leave me out in the fuckin’ cold? Why the hell didn’t you unlock the window when you were the one who asked me here? Move, y’idiot.”

Izuku barely had a chance to bristle with self-conscious irritation before a head of spiky blonde locks ducked its way into his bedroom, forcing the omega to side-step awkwardly to make room. He couldn’t help the way his hands fidgeted anxiously as his soulmark burned ever so slightly or how his brows pinched together just enough to leave the smallest crease to form against his forehead, but as Izuku parted his lips, he stuttered through his awkward words as best as he could.

“Sorry, I– got a little caught up, it, um… slipped my mind.” Izuku kicked himself at how lame the flimsy excuse sounded even to his own ears, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek as he bit back the urge to sigh in defeat. He peered up through his lashes, silently mulling over his words and shuffling his feet as he watched the grumbling alpha drop to the floor, landing on his feet with the poise of a hunter. Izuku swallowed as a wave of musk and evergreen thickened in the air.

It took Kacchan a moment to lift himself up from his crouch, brows pinched and jaw set as he grumbled under his breath. A flurry of delicate snowflakes were caught in the shocks of his pale blonde locks, catching the dim glow of the candlelight before they began to slowly melt away. He dusted off his shoulders and adjusted the hem of his cloak, but as Kacchan lifted his head to sweep a critical gaze over the small, almost cramped expanse of Izuku’s room, the omega couldn’t ignore the heat gathering at the tips of his ears.

His eyes lingered on the smattering of loose parchment and open scrolls littering the rickety wooden desk tucked against the wall closest to the door, scarlet hues narrowing ever so slightly. The alpha clicked his teeth with the subtle echo of his earlier rumble before forcing himself to tear his gaze away. It roamed absently over the other walls, skimming over the various knick-knacks crammed haphazardly on the floating wooden shelves with idle interest, before pausing to rest on the far corner of his quarters, tucked close to the hearth glowing with warmth.

Izuku blanched.

Kacchan wasn’t just staring at a random corner of his room–he was staring at his nest.

His bedroll was unmade and messy, a tangle of slept-in quilts and thick duvets that had knotted up with the assortment of pillows tucked against the wooden walls. Toshinori had nailed a hook above his bedroll in the crevice where the two walls met for him to drape another blanket over it.

The extra drapery helped provide it with a canopy of sorts–a soft, downy cascade of warm blankets and quilts to enclose his safe-space–and though it obscured much of the proof of Izuku’s sleepless nights, the omega couldn’t help the sudden pulse of embarrassment souring his pheromones.

He didn’t miss the way the blonde’s nose twitched, nostrils flaring as something flashed in the crimson depths of his gaze. The dizzying scent of pine spiked suddenly, forcing Izuku to almost bite his tongue. Wild green eyes flicked from his nest to Kacchan, then back again, thinly-veiled anxiety leaving his own scent of wildflowers wilting ever so slightly.

The silence settling over them was damn near suffocating–but before Izuku could stutter his way through an awkward attempt at diverting the alpha’s attention, Kacchan snapped his teeth together with a sharp click to try and quiet the rumblings of his muted growl.

“You always leave it so damn hot in here?” Kacchan scoffed, flexing his jaw before he turned his back sharply without warning to sweep his critical gaze over the remainder of Izuku’s cramped quarters instead.

“It’s winter,” Izuku quipped bluntly, “and I get cold.”

Kacchan didn’t dignify him with a verbal response. Instead, he gave an annoyed click of his tongue and bit out a slew of indecipherable growls before turning on his heel wordlessly to stomp down the length of Izuku’s room.

He picked up small trinkets from the shelves to examine them idly before scoffing and setting it back down. Kacchan snatched a small, wooden figurine of a rabbit Toshinori had carved for Izuku a handful of years ago, turning it over in his calloused palm with idle interest before discarding it like he had done with the rest. All the while, he didn’t bother snapping at the omega directly again, instead muttering in irritation in between his subtle rumbles of annoyance.

Izuku’s frown deepened. He had half-expected the alpha to say something–anything–to break the silence, even if it was just to snap at him for keeping his quarters so messy and unkempt, or to demand an explanation for their impromptu meeting.

Kacchan’s mutterings grew silent as a sharp, carmine gaze swept over the length of the cramped quarters–but rather than drawling out a sharp-tongued comment, he pressed his lips together in frosty silence. As the seconds ticked by, Izuku couldn’t help the way the anxiety slowly began to rise within him all over again.

It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. As the realization dawned on him, Izuku felt his shoulders sag. Kacchan’s mindless perusing of his disconnected collection of keepsakes was meant to keep his hands busy and his gaze wandering–but more than that, it was an excuse to ignore the sad sack of blankets Izuku loosely referred to as a nest.

Something inside of him withered.

His omega was still silent, but that did little to mask the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Rejection–he could taste its bitterness on the back of his tongue and the curdled edge souring his pheromones. A part of Izuku couldn’t help but recoil at the sensation, angry that something small and wanting inside of him had hoped for something other than indifference from the blonde–but the more he deliberated on it, the more the scent of flowers and summer rain wilted.

“The sun never came back out today.” Kacchan’s curt growl nearly startled him, forcing Izuku to jerk his head up with a sharp inhale. Wide green eyes flitted up until they rested on the thick, corded outline of the alpha’s broad shoulders. For a moment, Izuku’s thoughts stalled as he watched the swell of his muscles heave as Kacchan drew in a breath. When the alpha grunted again, Izuku nearly choked on his tongue. “You said you knew how to fix it, right? So spit it out.”

“Oh–right!”

Izuku kicked himself for letting his voice crack. The red flush blooming over freckled cheeks did little to ease the awkwardness of his yelp, forcing the omega to bow his head before shuffling to his desk. Izuku was painfully aware of the sensation of his heart lurching into his throat with every uneven beat.

He forced himself to swallow it down, willing himself to keep the embarrassment from seeping into his pheromones before Kacchan could pick up on it. The last thing he needed was for the alpha to snap at him for leaving the air tasting foul on top of everything else.

Izuku’s hands shook as he moved to rummage through the open tomes and scattered notes littering the narrow surface of his desk. The spiraling thoughts of his omega’s inner melancholy had nearly distracted him from the very real threat hanging dangerously on the horizon.

The sound of rustling pages filled the air as Izuku pinched his brows together and tried to make sense of the notes he had been scrawling away at before Kacchan’s arrival. There were times where even he couldn’t make head nor tails of his erratic penmanship but tonight, Izuku was relieved to find himself able to decipher his scribbles even under the thin glow of dwindling candlelight.

“The sun disappearing–it’s actually called an eclipse,” Izuku rattled off, head tilting this way and that as he held up an open tome to scan its contents. “They’re really uncommon. Some almanacs and encyclopedias state that the last total eclipse of the sun occurred more than two generations ago…”

“You already told me about the eclipse, damn nerd.”

Izuku yelped. The sensation of warm breath against the nape of his neck and the looming presence of something bigger and wider than him at his back forced the omega to jolt. He damn near dropped the leatherbound volume grasped within his shaking fingers. With a shaky sigh, Izuku straightened his back and forced himself to swallow down the jittery feeling crawling through him before tilting his head just enough to look at the other from the corner of his eye.

Kacchan was so close to him.

Izuku couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to trace the sharp planes and edges of the alpha’s profile from such a close proximity. The glow of the candlelight bathed him in warmth, highlighting high cheekbones and a cut jawline. The scarlet depths of his eyes were guarded but calm–a far cry from the slitted glare that had pinned him down only hours before–as they peered over Izuku’s shoulder to scan over the loose-leaf parchment strewn across his desk.

Even after their kinship had fallen apart and burned to ashes, Izuku could only escape the drivel of village gossip so much. Far too many times had he heard the not-so-covert giggles of other omegas as they gushed over the young alphas knee-deep in their apprenticeships. Kacchan was brutish and rough around the edges–but he was also painfully attractive to anyone with functioning eyes. It used to drive Izuku mad, inner omega yipping restlessly until he had no other choice but to clench his teeth and swallow down his secondary nature’s demands altogether.

But now–now he realized that the seemingly-superficial observations weren’t as baseless as he had convinced himself to believe. They were understatements.

He was handsome.

The air of silent pensiveness that settled over him only made it that much more difficult for Izuku to find his words again. His mouth hung open and as he stuttered out an ineloquent u-uhh, right, Kacchan’s brows pinched together before the alpha shot him a pointed look through narrowed carmine eyes.

His cheeks burned all over again. Izuku quickly dropped his gaze and cleared his throat.

“What I meant to say,” the omega amended quickly, trying his best to ignore the way Kacchan’s sharp stare didn’t waver, “is that an eclipse is actually a, um, omen of sorts. It’s a rather universally held belief… I’ve read about omens in religion before, in some old notebooks and novels I’ve collected. They can mean many things–almost always bad, really–but the severity of them differs from one culture to the next. The thing is, it’s difficult to pinpoint the origin of the many spiritual legends on how eclipses come to be, but–”

“Get to the point, nerd.”

“S-sorry!” Izuku’s squeak was far from dignified, but the omega hoped the awkward way he cleared his throat would mask the way his voice cracked. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to gather the last dregs of his confidence to continue. “Most schools of thought seem to agree on one thing.. Eclipses aren’t just omens, they’re almost always the first warning. Which means that… it won’t be the last.” Green hues flicked down to skim over the words scrawled into the margins of the parchment,

Silence settled over them like a thick, suffocating smog. Izuku didn’t realize was holding his breath until he felt the warmth of Kacchan’s own as he gave a slow, long-winded exhale. The omega nearly startled at the way goosebumps rose into the nape of his neck in response, finally choking out the breath that had lodged itself in his chest.

“Shit,” Kacchan seethed.

“Yeah, shit,” the omega echoed, unable to keep the sullen defeat from lingering in his whisper. Izuku’s shoulders sagged as a wide-eyed gaze flitted over open pages and loose-leaf parchment scrolls littering his desk. He set the tome in his hand aside in favor of plucking up a thin, leather-bound notebook.

“It… it’s going to get worse, but there’s many studies of myths and lores that suggest that there’s a way for us to predict the stages of disaster. Just give me a second to… ” Izuku conceded before trailing off, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he leafed through the collection of notes.

Its pages were weathered and yellowed with dog-eared corners. Each one was packed from margin to margin in thick, looping script; some of it was illegible, blotted out by water damage and age alike, but after spending the better part of the night encrypting the notes held within it, Izuku knew what to look for. The pages rustled as he flipped through it, muttering under his breath until he landed on the passage he had marked earlier.

Izuku let out an ah-hah! before turning on his heel to face the alpha. Kacchan grunted, taking a singular step back to keep Izuku from colliding into him and curling his lip with thinly-veiled annoyance.

“See! Here, it says that darkness is a common sign of something more to come!” Izuku tapped a finger to a particularly deranged-looking paragraph made up of words packed so closely together that it seemed nearly impossible to make out a single coherent thought, much less decipher an entire analysis. “Which I know seems bad, but! If… if you think about it, that means there’s time to reverse the imbalance causing it! Not only that, th-there’s another passage in this grimoire over here that corroborates that message… Demeter is forgiving, so She gives her subjects time to change… It’s a good place to start.”

Kacchan shot the green-haired omega a critical red glare but much to Izuku’s relief, he chewed on his tongue and bit back whatever slew of curses and derisions he would have normally fired off where it any other night. His silence was ominous as he stood dangerously still, jaw flexing silently–as if he were considering exactly which art of Izuku’s claims he wanted to address first.

Despite the unease hanging in the air, Kacchan didn’t immediately leap to calling Izuku neither an idiot nor a damn nerd. It should have been a moment of celebration–truly, Izuku couldn’t remember a time since he was a pup when he and Kacchan could have stood in the same room for so long without a single insult thrown between them–but the longer the silence lingered, the more Izuku’s stomach clenched in anticipation.

Kacchan grunted as he eyed the page Izuku was holding up suspiciously.

“So what?” The blonde’s voice was gruff and tense as carmine hues narrowed. “I didn’t show up here in the middle of a damn night for a temple lesson. You said you knew how to fix it. So how do we fix it before it gets worse?”

Izuku expected to flinch under the sharpness of his words, but when Kacchan spoke, the usual jeering edge coloring his scoffs was nowhere to be found. Instead, Izuku couldn’t help but think he sounded almost… nervous.

The omega drew in a small, sharp breath. Wordlessly, Izuku turned his back to the blonde. He ignored the alpha’s annoyed hiss and the muttered out damn nerd thinks he can fuckin’ ignore me? Tch! in favor of sifting through the books, scrolls, and notebooks.

Fingertips grazed over the blunt edges of the broken wax seal clinging to the curled edge of a scroll. The glossy material once held the Todoroki family crest–a large snowcat on its hind legs, maw unhinged and claws outstretched, with a flame on its left side and a snowflake on its right–imprinted into cherry-red wax and as Izuku thumbed the rolled-up parchment open, Kacchan sucked in a sharp breath.

“Where the hell did you get that?” The alpha blurted it out before Izuku could properly unfurl the page. “That’s the fuckin’ Chief’s family crest. The only fuckin’ documents I see that shit on are sitting on the War Chief’s desk, where the rest of us ain’t got eyes on ‘em. So how the fuck did you get your hands on it?”

Izuku pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to meet the unwavering red glare burning into the back of his head. His scent, however, abated until the sheer florals of his pheromones dulled into nothing–as if he was trying to make himself more unassuming, less noticeable. He cleared his throat and gave a quiet sniff, putting on his best attempt at nonchalance as he continued.

“I’m just borrowing them for a little bit. It’s for research.”

This time, Kacchan did growl. “Idiot! That’s not what I asked and you fuckin’ know it!”

“Kacchan, please. Can we not do this right now? Look.”

“No fuckin’ way!” Kacchan barked at him. “I fuckin’ knew you were up to something with all those damn scrolls in your satchel!” An accusatory finger jabbed into the tender spot between Izuku’s shoulder blades, forcing the green-haired omega to jolt. Jutting out his lower lip, he shot Kacchan a look of muted annoyance over his shoulder.

Izuku had spent far too many years pining for their lost kinship, too many nights weeping into his pillows over a friend that had slipped through his trembling fingers–but one thing he hadn’t missed in the chasm of his absence was the alpha’s penchant for belligerence. Izuku clicked his teeth to mask his subtle irritation. As his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek, the omega fought the urge to heave a sigh.

“I’m not up to something. I’m trying to save our village from impending doom. There’s a difference!”

Kacchan scoffed, lips curling subtly to bare his teeth.

“You’re fuckin’ impossible,” the blonde grumbled, a quiet growl rattling deep in his chest. He held Izuku’s stubborn glare all the while, scarlet eyes burning into verdant depths.

For a moment, silence fell over the pair all over again as their gazes locked onto one another. There was once a time when Izuku could read Kacchan like an open book; his wild grins and declarations of strength were easier to read than an open book, but now, it was like looking into a the depths of a ruby-tinted pool, too many emotions swirling within it for him to pick them apart one by one. A part of Izuku wondered if Kacchan was looking at him the same way.

Before he could let the thought linger, the alpha grunted again and shoved Izuku’s shoulder wordlessly. Izuku tensed, expecting Kacchan to put more force behind it–but when the shove felt more like a nudge, he blinked wide green eyes and pinched his brows together.

“Well, get the fuck on with it,” Kacchan finally mumbled, voice low and pensive. “We ain’t got the time to argue about the goddamn semantics of what you’re up to.”

“Ooh, semantics. That’s another big word for Kacch–”

“I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t shut the fuck up!”

Izuku couldn’t help the way his teeth dug into a plump lower lip to fight back the soft giggle threatening to escape him. Their village was in danger–very real danger–because of them… now was not the time to needle one another with petty banter (even if it was, in Izuku’s opinion, somewhat deserved.) As his tongue passed over his teeth, the omega forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath.

“Right,” he breathed out, shoulders squaring as he gathered his nerves once more. “We were getting off-topic… but, um… like I was saying. The eclipse is the start of something and while different books and religions have different omens that correspond with their beliefs, I looked into the myths and legends of our patron saint.”

“Demeter,” Kacchan groused, trying his best to fend off the urge to scoff. “We were taught that She was benevolent and forgiving our entire fuckin’ lives. Ain’t no one tellin’ us that She would be the type to punish us for shit She put into place.”

“It’s because our temple doesn’t like to bad-mouth the goddess that blesses us,” Izuku amended, voice dropping to a soft whisper. “The temple’s archives are free to the public, but that’s why there’s nothing in there that’s going to discuss Her omens. Which is why I had to look into, ah… other sources for information.”

His fingers moved to carefully unroll the scroll in his hands, green hues wandering over the looping script spanning the page of parchment from edge to edge. There were detailed diagrams, drawn by hand, inked into the margins. Some were of the different phases of the lunar cycle with parts of them circled and annotated while the others depicted a variety of candles and wax-types, short descriptions scrawled compactly at their side.

Izuku felt Kacchan lean closer before he saw the outline of his profile from the corner of his eye. Heat radiated off of him–solid, warm, and sturdy–and as he flared his nostrils to give a quiet grunt of acknowledgement, the goosebumps from earlier crawled their way up the back of Izuku’s neck all over again.

“Well?” Kacchan narrowed his eyes, scanning the text with a calculating eye from over Izuku’s shoulder. “That doesn’t look like the common language. The fuck does it say?”

“It’s because it’s not. It’s Old Greek. The language of the pantheon,” the omega explained, praying that his breaths didn’t wheeze too audibly as each inhale left his nose full of earthy pine trees and musk. “It’s the First Telling of the story of Demeter.”

“The First Telling?” The alpha made a face, nose scrunched and lips curled. “Why the hell are we wasting our time on that? They forced us to memorize that shit when we were in our primary lessons.”

Izuku finally exhaled the sigh he had been fighting to hold back. He hesitated for a moment, teeth worrying into his lower lip, before finally giving his head a shake.

“The First Telling we learned when we were pups is actually an abridged version.” The omega’s voice was small and quiet–as if even uttering such a thing was equivalent to sacrilege or blasphemy. “The real story of Demeter is in this scroll.”

The alpha went still. Izuku heard the way he drew in a sharp breath. A part of him expected Kacchan to spit out an insult at him, to call him a liar and a crazy heretic–just like most of the village would have were they to learn that Izuku had rummaged around to find proof that contradicted the devout faith everyone else held unwaveringly.

Except he didn’t. Instead, Kacchan flared his nostrils and lowered his voice to a rumbling whisper to say, “then translate it for me, dumbass.”

Relief bloomed in izuku’s chest, forcing his shoulders to sag with another quiet sigh. “I… I’m really bad at translating Old Greek. It’s not exactly complicated, but our archives don’t have a lot of books that could help me understand it. So… the translation is a little rough.”

“Rough is still better than nothing.” Kacchan gave Izuku another insistent nudge. “Read it to me.”

The omega gave a short nod and took a deep breath.

“Before man walked the lands created by Gods and Goddesses, Demeter rose before the oceans and the barren wastelands to make a promise. She swore to bring life to those who worshipped Her and in turn, She would give every one of Her children crops and fertility. All She asks for is that Her children accept the bonds She has forged for us through the nature hidden inside of men everywhere…”

“I told you we already learned this shit,” Kacchan interrupted with a scoff, unable to keep his irritation from leaving his complaints prickly and gruff. With a roll of scarlet eyes, the alpha cut Izuku off to drawl out, “an alpha will find his omega to protect and an omega will find her alpha to nurture. Betas will join hands and provide community. In exchange for our acceptance, She blesses us with a plentiful harvest and seasons of warmth. Blah, blah, fuckin’ blah. I thought you said the shit we learned as pups was the abridged version?”

Izuku shot him a look over his shoulder, green eyes narrowed and lips pursed into a half-scowl, half-pout, The sheer floral scent of wildflowers and summer rain curdled immediately in kind, souring with his annoyance.

“Can you let me finish?”

“Fuckin’ whatever.” Kacchan flexed his jaw and clicked his teeth together before crossing his arms over a broad chest. “Not like anything you said is fuckin’ news to me…”

With a flare of his nostrils, Izuku opted to ignore him. Instead, he cleared his throat and held his head up with his chin jutting out and allowed his eyes to skim over the parchment once more, settling on the spot he had left off at.

“All She asks for is that Her children accept the bonds She has forged for us through the nature hidden inside of men everywhere… and though an alpha will finds his omega to protect and an omega will find her alpha to nurture as the betas join hands to provide community, a great tragedy befell the Goddess of the Harvest, plunging the world into darkness and cold all over again. Demeter had a daughter and when the God of the Underworld came up from the depths of hell, he took one look at Her daughter and knew he had to take her for himself.”

“The disappearance of Persephone pushed Demeter into a state of anguish and agony. Without Her daughter, first of Her kind, Demeter abandoned her sworn duty. Crops died. Litters didn’t survive the brutal cold. Starvation ravaged the lands of man everywhere. The sun disappeared from the sky and soon, sickness began to claim the lives of Her subjects–one by one. In the darkness, nothing good would come without Her guidance… and though Demeter wished to perish from her own pain, She knew She could not leave Her children to starve forever.”

Izuku traced each word with the tip of his finger until he came to the conclusion of the first passage. Saying the words out loud felt heavier than when he had first poured over it in the early hours of the day. It left his tongue dry and cracked, sticking to the roof of his mouth as he tried to swallow down the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Kacchan still hovered directly behind him, sharp scarlet gaze following along with a pensive expression that left his sharp features pinched. The pause felt pregnant and prolonged, an uncomfortable silence that left only the sounds of their breaths audible around them.

When the omega cleared his throat and drew in another breath, Kacchan gave a small grunt at his side–as if to encourage him to keep reading.

“... Demeter searched far and wide for Persephone but when She realized that Her daughter was nowhere to be found in the realm of the living, She turned to desperate measures. Alphas and omegas that share a bond are tethered by a single red thread, spun by Demeter, Herself–and attempting to cut the thread that connected a pair was a task that proved impossible… but Demeter was adamant to find a way to reverse Her own magic–anything to bring back Her beloved daughter to the realm of the living and free from the Underworld’s clutches. For this reason, Demeter visited the Three Fates–a set of sisters that were blind, deaf, and mute. The Three Fates spun the threads of life and when Demeter came to them begging for their assistance, the sisters smiled wickedly and told the kind-hearted goddess the truth.”

“Threads spun by oracles are different from threads spun by gods and goddesses like Her. Their blades were sharp, but they were not enough to sever the infallible magic of the pantheon. But if She was desperate enough, then they would provide Demeter with a single magical knife. They warned Her–they told Demeter that it may not work, that the fibers of Her threads may be too strong for a blade blessed by the Three Fates to unravel. But Demeter had grown desperate, too far gone and mad with pain, that She agreed to it without hesitation.”

“The unbonding.” Kacchan’s interjection was grim. The familiar muskiness of pine, evergreen, and wet soil abated, thinning out in the air in a way that forced Izuku to jerk his head to the side to cast the alpha a puzzled look. “She tried to unbond Her own goddamn daughter.”

Kacchan was always so strong, so confident; his pheromones were more potent than his peers due to his strength… Some even dared to call him oppressive. Izuku was often inclined to agree–so to see a look of pained conflict lingering on the alpha’s face and smelled the way his scent withered with apprehension was enough to leave Izuku’s chest panging.

Clearing his throat, the omega bobbed his head in a small, hesitant nod. “Yes, exactly,” Izuku breathed out, his own brows pinching together as he adjusted the scroll in his hands. When Kacchan gave a haughty sniff at his side and bumped his shoulder to Izuku’s, he nodded and resumed.

“Demeter ventured into the depths of the Underworld, crossing the river of the undead, and searched long and hard until She discovered Her daughter in the heart of the wastelands. Here, She begged Persephone to return with her, to turn her back on the dead and to come back to the realm of the living–but when Persephone turned to face Her, she refused. She told her Mother that she and the Underworld’s king had consummated the fated bond that Demeter had promised. Demeter grew angry at this. Her beloved daughter refused to come back with her–and it was all because of the bonds She had forged from the stars. The Goddess of the Harvest was not a violent deity, but She grew mad with Her fury. She slashed the blade gifted to Her by the Three Fates and attempted to cut the red string of fate. Persephone howled in pain. Hades returned and attempted to slaughter Her. Persephone begged him not to as Demeter sobbed and sobbed, trying Her hardest to use this blade to saw off the string connecting them. The blade, however, was too dull–just as the Fates had warned….”

“But She tried until She couldn’t any longer–and finally, the tattered, frayed edges of the red string between Persephone and Hades finally fractured. Persephone collapsed into her mother’s arms as Demeter carried her back to the world of the living. Upon Her gracious return, spring and summer prospered and Her children celebrated. All was right in the world. When Her daughter woke up once more, she wept and said: You are home, My child.”

“To this, Persephone looked at her mother and replied: My home is where my fated is, and You took me from him. For many long days and nights, Persephone stayed in the shadows and wept and wept–until Demeter finally made a promise. If She allows her daughter to return to the Underworld for six moons, then she must return to Mother for six more. Persephone agreed–and with a last kiss to her mother’s cheek, she descended into the underworld and winter fell over the realm of the living all over again. Just as the Fates had warned her, severing the ties of the divine was that could be attempted, but the risks would never waver. Fated mates are meant to be together, just as She intended, but not even Goddesses can control what is right and what is wrong.”

Izuku didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Kacchan hissed out a strained sigh through clenched teeth, forcing the omega to jolt at his side.

“Yeah, they didn’t tell us any of that shit in our primary lessons.”

“Exactly,” Izuku mumbled with a shake of his head. He moved to set the parchment scroll back down on his desk, smoothing it out with his palms as he did. “Obviously, the temple didn’t want us to know about Her missteps…”

The alpha gave another snort and though Izuku wasn’t looking up at him, he could already imagine the intense eye-roll that Kacchan was no doubt giving.

“So they buried the evidence and fed us the sunshine-and-daisies version of it growing up. Assholes.”

“Something like that…” Izuku gave another shake of his head before rummaging through the remaining scrolls with their broken seals.

“You never told me how you managed to get your dumb, nerdy paws on that damn scroll.”

This time, it was Izuku’s turn to roll his eyes. “Kacchan, I can’t be dumb and nerdy. That’s called an oxymoron–”

“You’re the goddamn moron! Can you answer a fucking question directly for once?!”

He debated another smart-mouthed quip for a moment before heaving a defeated sigh. His shoulders sagged and as thumbed open another scroll to peek at its content, Izuku finally muttered, “you’re not the only one with a little bird helping them out.”

“Fucking Hawks got those for you?!” Kacchan’s loud scoff was both incredulous and full of disbelief. “How in Demeter’s fucking name did you convince him to agree? That fuckin’ asshole doesn’t just do favors for people.” He sounded both frustrated and impatient at the same time, hackles rising until the familiar scent of musk and pine filled Izuku’s quarters all over again.

Izuku gave a haughty sniff. “I’ve known Hawks since I was seven,” the omega asserted only somewhat snidely. “Shoto and I are best friends. Ever since I brought Shoto back to the estate when he got lost in the village, I ended up hanging out there a lot. Hawks is kinda like a big brother to me, too. Not that you’d know that.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Kacchan seethed, gritting his teeth with a thinly-veiled hiss. “Busted my goddamn balls for years tryna get that damn bird to respect me but he’ll pull shit off Chief Todoroki’s desk for you just ‘cause you asked?” A scoff followed his words. “Talk about fuckin’ bullshit.”

The green-haired omega fought back the urge to sigh yet again. “I pay my dues,” he quipped, giving a small chirp of glee under his breath once he found the particular scroll he was searching for. He smiled triumphantly to himself, lifting it up and unrolling it proper before peering over at Kacchan from over his shoulder. Izuku’s smile turned almost coy as he flashed a teasing smirk up at the alpha. “It only cost me three rabbits for him to agree.”

Kacchan’s scowl deepened as a rattling growl caught in his throat. “Oh, so he takes fuckin’ bribes, too… Real fuckin’ classy.”

Izuku lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “It’s not my fault you didn’t learn how to play his system…”

A harsh thwap came down against the back of Izuku’s head, forcing the omega to yelp in protest. “Ouch! Kacchan!” He pinched his brows and dropped the loose parchment in favor of turning on his heel to shoot the blonde a pointed look. He had both hands in his curls, rubbing the spot Kacchan had whacked him on and when green hues lifted to meet burning carmines, he found himself staring directly up into Kacchan’s smirking face. “What was that for?”

“For tellin’ me I ain’t playin’ the system right, nerd. Think you’re so damn smart, huh?”

“W-well I am the one who figured out how to get favors from Hawks–”

Kacchan bared his teeth with another growl and when he reached forward this time, it was to grab Izuku’s ear and give it a harsh pull. “When will you learn to take a damn hint and shut the fuck up, damn!”

“Wahcchan! Ouch! That hurts!”

The alpha’s growl only grew before he finally conceded and released his grip on Izuku. He watched the omega huff as he rubbed at his ear, a petulant pout forcing him to stick out his lower lip as he shot Kacchan a reproachful look.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Kacchan flared his nostrils and licked his teeth. “You deserved it,” he grumbled with a haughty sniff of his own.

Lifting up a hand, Izuku rubbed at his face with a tired groan. When he took a breath, however, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the air didn’t taste of ash and burning wood–the thick, acrid pheromones that Izuku had long since learned to associate with Kacchan’s anger.

So he isn’t actually angry, the omega observed silently as he rubbed at his reddening ear. He couldn’t remember the last time Kacchan had bullied him without any real malicious intent behind it; he had spent far too many years being pushed to the ground with vigor, kicked back into submission until Izuku took the hint to leave Kacchan the hell alone… but right now, with the blonde raising an eyebrow down at him and a smug half-smirk tugging at his lips, he couldn’t help but stare up at him with wide-eyed surprise.

“So, now what?” Kacchan prompted, pulling Izuku out of his thoughts with a small gasp. “The real First Telling made it kinda obvious that you can break a bond, I guess. But it didn’t say shit on how…”

“R-right,” the omega stuttered, trying to ignore the way his voice cracked in his haste to wheel back around and snatch up the piece of parchment laying open on his desk. “About that… Well, I went through all the other things from the Todorokis’ restricted archive, but… honestly, none of them actually talk about the way to go about it. There’s more stories on Demeter’s madness, Her daughter, Persephone, and the story of the pomegranate seeds, but–”

A hand snapped out and grabbed Izuku’s wrist. Before the omega could resist or squeak out in alarm, Kacchan growled and jerked Izuku around until they were face to face. Smoldering red eyes were narrowed into hard, ruby-tinted chips as he bowed his head to come nose to nose with him.

Izuku damn near choked, heart leaping into his throat as he stuttered out a pathetic K-Kacchan…?

“You’re telling me,” the alpha started, voice dropping to a low, quiet hiss, “that you demanded I show up in your room in the middle of the goddamn night… to tell me a story without knowing how the fuck we’re supposed to break the bond like you said we should?”

The first hint of a burning forest tainted the air. Izuku’s nose twitched and his eyes widened before he opened his mouth with a strained yelp.

“That’s not what I said! I-it’s just that the restricted archives didn’t have anything on it! But–but I have something that does mention it!”

Kacchan’s eyes narrowed further as a quiet growl rumbled in his chest but after a long moment of glaring down at him, the alpha finally grunted and released him. “Then get on with it,” he muttered impatiently, arms moving to cross over his chest once again. “I feel like I’ve been in here for fuckin’ hours…”

Izuku scrunched his nose, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief as he smoothed out his tunic. He noted the way the alpha shifted his weight from foot to foot with his last statement, mumbling under his breath all the while. The amusement and hope he had felt only moments earlier began to fizzle out once when he remembered just how uncomfortable Kacchan had looked in his space since he first arrived.

“Right, sorry…” He scratched at the back of his head, carding fingers through his mane of wild green curls. Izuku tore his gaze away and instead of picking up the scroll from earlier, his hands wandered back to the small, leather-bound notebook he had been leafing through earlier. “Well… what I was trying to say was that I, um. I bought a secondhand diary off of a vendor from Yuuei. It belonged to an alchemist from across the salted waters. It’s written in another language–it’s not even Old Greek. It’s really difficult to decipher, but some of it is written in the common language, which is interesting. It’s almost like whoever owned this notebook before knew someone else might end up with it, so they wanted us to understand at least some of it–”

“Deku.” Kacchan dropped his growl dangerously low, like his patience was beginning to wear thin. “The point. Get to it.”

Izuku’s scent soured with embarrassment. Clearing his throat, he silently rifled through the pages until finding the one that had caught his attention earlier. He made a small noise in the back of his throat before turning to hold it up for Kacchan, pointing at the cramped text and rudimentary diagrams plastered over the yellowed pages.

“This! This… was my point.” Izuku peeked up at the alpha the moment Kacchan grunted with mild curiosity. “Um… this… this alchemist. I think they were studying spiritual bonds. I couldn’t really understand a lot of it, but I think whoever it was… was trying to harness energy. I mean, if you think about it… a sacred bond crafted by the gods is probably incredibly strong and full of magic. If you look at this… ah-ha! Here, look.”

He shoved the notebook into the alpha’s chest. Kacchan made a face and eyed it suspiciously before reaching to take it from him with a certain level of reluctance. Izuku stepped up on his toes, scarred hands wringing together as he watched the blonde take the notebook into his hands gingerly to examine the page offered to him.

A long stretch of silence followed as scarlet eyes skimmed from margin to margin, lingering on the crude drawings of magic circles and numerous, foreign symbols littering the page. Kacchan mouthed the few words written in the common language out loud.

“Cord-cutting… Moonlight… Offerings… Mirror… None of this makes sense, idiot.” He scoffed and shoved the notebook back towards the omega.

Izuku pinched his brows and shot him a look.

“It does, you just need to pay attention. See?” Izuku tapped on a drawing tucked away in the far left corner. “This thing? It’s a summoning circle. Alchemists all over the world have discovered and devised a whole bunch of these. The markings inside of them are meant to invoke certain types of energy and magic… and here, look. This?” The tip of his pointer finger dragged over the primitive rendition of the lunar cycle on the other side. “Right next to the word moonlight that you read? It’s telling us that the ritual needs to be done when the moonlight is the strongest. It even circled the full moon.”

“But the full moon is in two days.” Reluctance weighed heavily in Kacchan’s voice. “The night of the solstice…”

“... Is when the moon is at its highest, yes.” Izuku’s excitement abated as his lips curled into a small frown. “But… I think it’s fine. If you see this word here, mirror, it’s also next to another word I actually recognize from something else I read. This right here? It means water. So… I think it says that the ritual needs to be completed on the night of the full moon next to a body of water.”

Kacchan gritted his teeth and suppressed a hiss as he let his eyes scan over the pages once again. “So you’re sayin’ we gotta do this… ritual in two nights by some water?”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck and gave him a baleful look through wide eyes. “Yeah… um, there’s more… a cord-cutting ritual requires an offering. Something that we treasure that we can give to the gods to ask for their help in making it work. And if you turn the page…” Izuku paused long enough to flip through the notebook, making another small noise of affirmation once he found the next important passage. “This script right here gives us the mantra to recite and it’s even written in the common language. There’s only one other passage related to it that I couldn’t translate all of it, but it does say that a bond can be severed if we make an exchange of… of our… ah…”

Kacchan squinted at him and cocked his head to the side. “Spit it out, Deku.”

The omega couldn’t help the warm flush that stained his cheeks. He dropped his gaze and prayed that his scent didn’t curdle too heavily with his embarrassment. “We… we need to make an e-exchange of our… essence.” Izuku said the word slowly and carefully, like it tasted bitter. Kacchan reared back, like he’d been burned, and the red blush blooming over his cheeks deepened.

“What?” Kacchan was too dumbfounded to make a gruff retort and it was enough to make Izuku feel small. “By essence, you mean…?”

“I-I don’t know!” Izuku squeaked quickly. “I-it could mean anything… L-like spit, or something–or–or even blood!”

The alpha clicked his tongue and drew in a slow breath through flared nostrils–as if he was calming down something swelling up within him. Izuku could only imagine the disgust he felt at the thought of having to swap fluids with him–but blood, at least, would be the most convenient way for them to fulfill the requirement without having to venture into territory that could leave them both feeling compromised.

When silence settled over them, Izuku couldn’t help but think he had made a very, very poor decision. He could hear the way Kacchan forced his breaths to remain steady even as he dropped his gaze. He could sense the unease prickling through the room and the longer the quiet stretched on, the more the omega fidgeted.

“I-I know it’s asking a lot–but… Demeter’s omen from before came from Her being upset at the union of her daughter and the king of the Underworld. So much so that she tried to cut it herself–s-so if she’s sending us omens now, it’s… it’s obviously because she’s disappointed with us. I know it’s a gamble, but please, Kacchan, I know this is all a lot but–”

“I’ll do it.”

Kacchan’s voice was brusque and terse. Izuku felt his breath stutter, catching in his throat as he jerked his head up and blinked wide, green eyes up at him in disbelief.

“You… you will?”

The alpha grunted again, tearing his gaze away in favor of looking up at the ceiling as he scratched idly at his neck. “I already fuckin’ told you I would. This is what you want, right?”

Izuku pressed his lips together and pinched his brows.

He did tell him this is what he wanted, earlier when the sky was blackened and the sun was nowhere to be found. He wanted freedom–for both himself and Kacchan. Their time had long since passed and their differences were all but irreconcilable. There was too much bad blood between them, a past tainted by heartache and loss. Gaining it all back before the village was plunged into disease and decay seemed impossible–and the last thing Izuku wanted was to be the failure that cost his village its life.

Drawing in a small, shuddering breath, the omega gave a nod.

“Yes. It is.”

“Then it’s done. Figure Lake Yuuei is probably the best place to get this shit done and it’s only a half a day away on foot…”

Izuku perked up. “Oh! Actually… here.” He plucked up the scroll he had left forgotten on his desk and unfurled it properly. Spanning the page from edge to edge was a wide, expansive map detailing the entirety of their land, from coast to coast. Musutafu was settled neatly against the snowy cliffsides and the forested areas fringing its outskirts were illustrated in great detail. The map held details of the town of Yuuei and its lake, as well as the river dividing the land in East and West.

“Lake Yuuei is okay, but… there’s nowhere we can take shelter overnight. Doing this out in the open might not go over well, especially if it snows or rains. I was actually thinking we could go… here.” Izuku tapped helpfully on the western side of the map, over the small lake settled close to the water’s edge. Within it was a small, floating island upon which an icy cave was nestled. “The Crystal Cave. There’s another map showing it in better detail, but… it’s got a lake inside of it and there’s even a hollow area where moonlight filters in. Healers used to make journeys there regularly to pray to the gods when times were tough… It probably already has some magical properties in it.”

“The Crystal Cave? Are you fucking crazy? It’ll take us two entire days to get there as it is! And that’s if you don’t slow us down.”

Izuku scowled and gave a small scoff, slamming the map back down on his table. “I will not slow you down!”

Kacchan sneered and shot him a look. “You could barely handle yourself this morning.”

“That’s because you ambushed me!”

“Ambush?! Show some fuckin’ gratitude, ya ingrateful idiot!”

Izuku’s annoyance flared but as he opened his mouth to retort, he stalled.

There was too much riding on this for him to get distracted. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut and sucked in a deep breath. Closing his eyes, Izuku counted down from ten before slowly starting once again.

“We can do it, Kacchan. I know we can. We just… need to hurry.”

The alpha swallowed down a growl audibly before gritting his teeth. When he parted his lips to speak, Izuku nearly sobbed in relief.

“Fine. But we better get movin’ quick.” He tongued the inside of his cheek before giving a heavy sniff and turning on his heel. Before Izuku could say anything, Kacchan crossed the small expanse of his room to push the thick panes of his window back open. The omega startled, arms curling around himself as a gust of harsh, frigid air swept through his quarters. “I’m goin’ home,” the blonde explained, voice low and gruff. “Gonna take me a little bit to pack a bag full of essentials. And… that goddamn offering you mentioned. Meet me by the main gate before high-moon.”

Izuku’s eyes grew wide as he watched the rippling outline of Kacchan’s back. His breaths stuttered, words evading him as he studied the way the alpha snatched up his cloak and bundled himself back up. It wasn’t until Kachcan grunted and hoisted himself up to duck through the open window that the omega managed to find his voice.

“But–but won’t Hawks be out there keeping watch?!”

Kacchan threw him a wild smirk over his shoulder. “What’s the matter? Thought you knew how to play Hawks’s damn system.”

This time, Izuku laughed–soft and hesitant, but amused despite the way the red thread stitched into his wrist burned in protest at the alpha’s departure.

“Fine, I guess… I guess you’re right. Main gate by high-noon. I’ll be there,” the omega promised.

Kacchan studied him from over his shoulder through unreadable red eyes. He lingered for only a moment longer before grunting in affirmation. As he swung his head back around and wedged his way back out of Izuku’s bedroom, the echoes of his last words left Izuku’s breath stuttering in his chest.

“Don’t be late, Deku. We gotta save Musutafu.”

Somewhere in the silence Kacchan left behind, Izuku heard his omega whine.

Chapter Text

Izuku felt his hands fumble with the strap of his satchel as anxiety began to coil in the pit of his stomach. The worn leather felt rough against his trembling fingers as he adjusted it over the curve of his shoulders. As the omega braced his palm against the thick, icy glass of his window, he cast one last glance over his shoulder.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath to quell the uneven lurching of his heart as he scanned his bedroom one last time. His bedroll was left upturned and his desk a heap of scattered parchments and loose-leaf notes–a mess his mother would no doubt walk into when morning came without him tucked safely away under his blankets.

The omega felt his heart pang.

A part of him wanted to take it all back, wanted to throw his satchel aside and burrow into the safe, warm embrace of his nest and forget everything that had transpired in the last twelve hours. The confidence that had surged through Izuku when he first stumbled into his harebrained scheme had all but evaporated, leaving him with nothing but apprehension churning through his insides.

But Kacchan was waiting for him and Izuku had no choice but to follow through.

It took more effort than Izuku cared to admit to pry the window free from its creaking hinges. He grunted and gritted his teeth as he used his shoulder to shove it open despite its squeal of protest. With a pinch of his brows, he braced himself and pushed off from his foothold on the windowsill.

He tumbled to the ground with an inelegant oof!, lips curling into a small frown before he forced himself up onto his feet. He dusted the powdery snow clinging to his cloak before drawing in a sharp breath. The air was still frigid, burning his lungs with each swell of his chest, but Izuku squared his shoulders and gathered what was left of his resolve before setting off.

Snow crunched under each careful footfall and as the omega squared his shoulders, he willed himself to hold his breath. The village was eerily quiet. After everything was plunged into darkness, no one dared to mill about the empty paths. He felt guilt stab through his chest; if it weren’t for him, Izuku thought bitterly, the village square would have been filled with laughter and fanfare.

If it weren’t for him, the cold winter air would have thrummed with the warmth of firelight as Demeter smiled at them from above.

Izuku had to clench his teeth to bite back a hiss as his wrist burned.

He flexed his fingers and closed his eyes, forcing himself to take on sharp breath to keep the unraveling thread of anxiety coiled within him from coming undone altogether. Kacchan was right about one thing–they didn’t have much time and the more Izuku wasted his agonizing over what was out of his control, the less he had to fix what he had left broken.

Izuku swallowed. His throat felt tight the longer he allowed himself to dwell on all the things he should have done better. His shoulders curved in on themselves as his muted pheromones soured.

His mother always told him that agonizing over his missteps would only make him trip over what lay ahead. As a brisk wind buffeted past him, leaving his freckled cheeks blotchy and tingling with numbness, the omega couldn’t help but yearn for the warm, secure comfort of her embrace.

“And where do you think you’re going, young man?”

The omega felt his heart jump into his throat as he choked over a mouthful of leather and clove. He tripped over his own two feet with an undignified yelp. Izuku stumbled as he caught himself, head flying up and eyes wide with panic before he spun on his heel.

A pair of glowing blue eyes leveled Izuku with a calm but stern look through the darkness. Despite the shroud of nighttime, the golden blonde of Toshinori’s long fringes caught the pale moonlight. His shoulders sagged and despite his staggering height, Toshinori managed to look frail and thin under the inky-back night sky.

Despite that, he managed to hold an air of authority that made the hair at the back of Izuku’s neck stand on end. He couldn’t help the way he nearly bit his tongue as he stumbled over his words.

“T-Toshinori!” Izuku’s strangled out, hoping the way his yelp cracked wasn’t too obvious. “What are you– ah– I can explain!”

His ears grew hot with embarrassment, fingers twisting and untwisting through the worn leather strap slung over his shoulder. Izuku could feel the way Toshinori’s steady gaze sharpened as he rushed to stutter through an excuse.

“I– I was just going to Aizawa-sensei’s house to grab a few more herbs, and–”

“I’m sure Aizawa’s apothecary supplies will still be there come sunrise,” the alpha leveled; his voice was still low, calm, and neutral, but the subtle chide was unmistakable. Izuku winced, having the decency to bow his head in embarrassment. “Besides,” Toshinori continued, arching an eyebrow, “I’m sure Young Bakugou could fetch them for you, if you really needed them right now.”

Izuku choked.

“Wh– I– What does Kacchan have– have to do with this–”

“Young Midoriya.” Toshinori’s deep sigh was resigned enough to shame the omega’s pheromones into souring altogether. “I do believe that if you’re attempting to be inconspicuous, some level of regulation over your volume would be helpful.”

He wilted in embarrassment. Chancing a hesitant, wide-eyed look up through his lashes, Izuku mumbled, “... so you heard us?”

In spite of himself, the older alpha rumbled with a low, amused chuckle. It broke off into a small cough, but Toshinori cleared his throat and pressed on.

“I could make out your voices through the walls,” he amended. Izuku had to bite back the urge to sigh in relief, hoping that meant that the alpha hadn’t overheard exactly what it was that he and Kacchan were discussing. “You’re lucky your mother is a heavy sleeper. I don’t think she’d be thrilled with the idea of you having an alpha in your room so late at night. Even if you two are soulbound now.”

Izuku blanched. His mouth fell slack before he snapped it closed with a harsh clack of his teeth. Then, he opened his mouth only to close it again. The omega gaped uselessly, sputtering over the implications behind his words.

“What– no! It– it’s not like that!” The omega’s voice cracked. “Kacchan and I were just… we were–” Izuku felt his chest tighten as his tongue tied itself into knots. His satchel suddenly felt ten times heavier from where it hung over his shoulder.

What was he supposed to say? That the sun might not even rise tomorrow morning because of him? That he and Kacchan were going to go against the Goddess that watched over their village?

He couldn’t bring himself to form the words, too afraid of the look of disappointment that would no doubt darken Toshinori’s features if he were to confess to the acts of blasphemy he had planned.

Izuku’s stomach turned and the knowing look Toshinori was giving him certainly didn’t help. He bit the inside of his cheek, brows pinched together and scent thickening with the stench of rotted, decaying petals. Closing his eyes, the omega forced himself to drag sharp, frigid breath into his lungs.

“The truth is,” Izuku whispered, voice small and hesitant as he stared down at the snow-covered ground, “Kacchan and I… were trying to find out why the sun disappeared from the sky today. We… we knew we had to do something–we don’t have much time before the solstice, and…”

“I don’t need an explanation, young man.” Toshinori’s voice dropped to a low rumble–quiet and pensive, but also fierce with an understanding that left Izuku’s head shooting up and his eyes wide with shock. “I’ve seen omens before–back in a war that none in our village even remember anymore. And I know that fulfilling a duty isn’t always an easy or straightforward task.” He fell quiet before taking a hesitant step forward. Even through the shadows, Izuku could see the way his glowing blue eyes softened as they locked gazes. “I may not understand what the bigger plan is for you right now, but I trust you to make the right choices, my boy.”

Izuku’s breath hitched. He never did deserve the endless kindness and patience Toshinori had for him; the former War Chief that Izuku had idolized as a pup had somehow became one of the most constant pillars in his life.

He had so much faith in Izuku–even when Izuku didn’t have any left in himself.

For the first time since the night Demeter came to him in his dreams, Izuku felt the heavy weight hanging upon his shoulders begin to lighten. He drew in a small, shuddering breath. The omega felt the delicate red thread stitched against the inside of his wrist itch. The subtle sting that he had just started to grow accustomed to burned just a fraction more than usual before throbbing with a dull, muted ache.

Like the constellation etched into his skin could feel the familiar pang of regret and guilt.

Like his soulmark knew that the choice Izuku had made his mind up about was far from the one the gods and goddesses would call right.

As if Toshinori could hear the resounding echo of doubts and unease swirling within Izuku’s mind, the alpha hummed and took a few steps closer. He came to a pause only when he was standing before Izuku, close enough that the omega could make out the gaunt lines of his shallow cheekbones and the narrow cut of his jaw.

“The stars have a mysterious way of aligning when we least expect them to. You’re a smart, ambitious, and stubborn pup. You’ve always tried to do what’s right, even if the others don’t see it your way. It’s not always about the strength or the battles won. It’s also how we choose to try and save our people–by whatever means necessary. And that’s why you,” a hand clapped down onto Izuku’s shoulder, giving it a tight but reassuring squeeze, “are a true warrior in my eyes.”

Izuku felt his chest tighten. He didn’t realize he was crying until his vision blurred and one of the tears welling up in his eyes slipped down his cheek. Before he could stop himself, the omega bit a wobbling lower lip and darted forward.

Toshinori gave a small grunt of surprise as Izuku threw his arms around him, face buried into the older alpha’s bony chest with the smallest hiccup.

“Thank you,” Izuku whispered, words muffled into the thick material of Toshinori’s cloak. “You… you never gave up on me, even when everyone else did.” He felt the way his voice thickened, how his words caught in his throat and left his tongue twisted. Izuku pressed his face in deeper, inhaling the familiar comfort of leather and cloves. As he exhaled a small, shuddering breath, the omega closed his eyes and tried to quell the way his heart ached.

“No need to thank me, Young Midoriya,” Toshinori mumbled, the hand that was resting at Izuku’s shoulder sliding up to rub comfortingly at the back of his head. “A warrior that pushes forward even when the odds are stacked against him is the true hero. Whatever it is that you and Young Bakuogu think needs to be done, I know Demeter will watch over you.”

A dull ache twisted through Izuku’s chest and the inside of his left wrist began to itch; he was thankful that his face was hidden where he had buried it into Toshinori’s chest. At least this way, the older alpha who had so much faith and trust in him wouldn’t be able to see the way his expression faltered.

Izuku exhaled a small, shuddering breath before forcing himself to pull back. His head was bowed, swiping quickly at his eyes to wipe away any few tears that still clung to his lashes before he peered back up at the other man. His smile was small and wobbly and when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice trembled all the same.

“I know She will,” he lied, hoping the feeble way his words quivered wouldn’t betray him. “We… we’re going to find answers to this. I did some research. Kacchan and I need to make peace with everything and it’s not something we can do here…”

As if the mention of the bond tethering him to the blonde-haired alpha had awakened something. Izuku’s hand twitched as a sharp sting burned through the delicate thread stitched into his skin.

Izuku clenched his teeth together to bite back a hiss. He tugged at his cloak, concealing the soulmark etched into his left wrist in an attempt to keep it out of sight, out of mind. He dropped his gaze and toed the snow-covered ground, weight shifting from one foot to the other, as the guilt and shame that had taken root in him flared back to the surface.

“Just be careful out there, young man,” Toshinori warned softly. “Reading the stars isn’t as easy as some might think it is. It’s your intentions that matter more than anything.”

His words felt heavy and as Toshinori’s glowing blue gaze studied him, Izuku felt something sink in the pit of his stomach. All the omega could do was purse his lips and nod numbly. The aching burn in his wrist refused to subside, forcing Izuku to curl his fingers into a white-knuckled fist at his side.

“Of course,” he mumbled. “We’ll be careful.”

Toshinori hummed softly in response, taking a small step back. “That’s all I can ask for,” he mused before rasping out a muted chuckle. “If your mother asks, I’ll do my best to cover for you.”

With that, izuku gave a weak laugh of his own. “Thank you… I– I really, really appreciate it.” He blinked his wide green eyes up at him and offered a wobbly smile. “We should be back soon. I promise.”

Soon was a relative word–but something told Izuku that admitting to a days-long journey to the Crystal Cave to initiate an old-grimoire spell to cut his bond wasn’t the optimal choice. It must have been a satisfying enough answer, though. Toshinori didn’t press any further, merely giving a small nod of his own.

“Good. Now be safe, young man. Don’t go getting yourself into any more trouble, alright?”

Izuku’s heart squeezed in his chest.

“I’ll try my best.”

They looked at each other for another long moment before Toshinori slowly turned on his heel. As he started to make his way back towards the small cabin Izuku and his mother called home, the young omega forced himself to quell the uneven racing of his heart.

He couldn’t help the way he dragged his feet as he turned to face the direction of Musutafu’s main entrance. Izuku steeled the last of his fraying nerves with a small, shuddering breath before adjusting his satchel over his shoulder. There wasn’t much time left before high-moon and what little time he had left was precious.

As he glanced up at the sky overhead, the thin, wispy clouds dotting the night sky concealing the smattering of twinkling stars, Izuku knew he had to swallow down his anxiety and press on. By the time the stone spires of Musutafu’s entrance came into view, Izuku could still hear the uneven pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

The entirety of Musutafu had fallen into an eerie silence ever since that afternoon; the sun’s disappearance from the winter sky bled through the hours, slipping well into the twilight–but the beautiful streaks of indigo and burnt orange that often painted the skies were nowhere to be found.

It took time before the pitch-black sky finally flickered with the silver glow of the moon and stars–but even that hadn’t been enough to ward off the bone-deep unease that had settled over the village. The thought alone was enough to leave Izuku’s stomach in knots all over again.

A tired sigh caught in his throat as he crept his way through the bushes and trees fringing the village’s outskirts. Even with the moon lingering high in the sky, Izuku couldn’t be too careful. He was painfully aware that come dawn, if the sun chose to return to where it belonged, all of his packmates would be in a clamor.

It was only natural to search for answers. Izuku could already imagine the village people gathering in the town square, the air reeking of both fear and frustration. Though the idea of War Chief Todoroki wrangling the devout followers of Demeter under his watch as he fumbled his way through half-baked answers might have even been a comical under different circumstances, the green-haired omega couldn’t find it in himself to find hope in the situation.

His options were as bleak as the darkness Demeter had plunged them all into.

The satchel slung over his shoulder felt heavier and heavier against his side the more his thoughts lingered on the harsh reality that awaited Musutafu. Guilt coiled tight in the pit of his stomach, forcing Izuku to swallow down the rolling nausea before he let himself get sick before he and Kacchan had even taken the first step.

After all, they only had one option–and it was to fix this.

Demeter was kind, but She was also hopeful to a fault. Her judgement, while full of love, wasn’t always going to be perfect. History had told such tales time and time again–of wars waged by men who faced off against gods, battles won for the sake of humanity despite the way the divine scowled down upon them–and this was no different.

Or at least, that was how Izuku forced himself to rationalize it. There wasn’t any time to second-guess himself, not when the stolen scrolls from the Todoroki archives were burning a hole into the bottom of his bag and the stars were blinking tauntingly down at him.

When the trees began to thin to give way to the mouth of Musutafu’s entrance, Izuku swallowed thickly and steeled his nerves. The only way to move was forward–and the green-haired omega refused to let his fear get the better of him.

All that was left to do was wait for Kacchan.

Heaving a tired sigh, Izuku ducked into a crouch, staying low to the snow-laden ground as he darted through the shadows. Though the ghostly silence of the village made it clear that not another soul dared to venture about at this hour, he couldn’t be too careful. Verdant eyes narrowed into a squint as he craned his head, searching the skies for any sign of a certain winged beast that could spot his position if he wasn’t careful.

The last thing Izuku needed was to face the War Chief’s right hand and risk having to explain why he was waiting at a rather obvious rendezvous point. Izuku was never particularly good at lying and being forced on the spot under an unrelenting golden gaze sounded torturous. It was enough to make the omega shift his weight from one foot to the other in preemptive anxiety.

If we’re quick, Izuku reasoned to himself, then Kacchan and I can avoid bumping into anyone. The only other person who kept watch around Musutafu at this hour, anyway, was–

“Hawks!”

Izuku’s heart leapt into his throat, nearly choking him from the inside out as he startled.

The echo of Kacchan’s familiar snarl left his pulse racing. The omega jolted upright with a soft yelp of his own as he looked one way then the other in an attempt to make out the blonde’s broad-shouldered frame out among the shadows. As a loud, trilling laugh echoed through the air, though, he couldn’t help the way he held his breath and instead tilted his head back to look up.

His eyes widened as he looked up just in time to catch sight of thick wings unfurling against the sky. The sprawling breadth of crimson feathers was always staggering even from a distance, Izuku realized as he watched the way the silver disk of the moon disappeared enough to underscore the haunting silhouette of the hybrid dancing through the night sky.

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d let ya sneak outta here without saying something, did you?”

Hawks’s purr was lazy and languid as he twisted through the air. He dove down in a smooth corkscrew, wings tucked neatly to his back only to snap out to their full width at the last second. The air rushed with a deafening whoosh from the change in pressure as he skirted dangerously over the treeline fringing Musutafu’s entrance.

He flapped his wings once, then twice, before coming to a halt mid-air. He was hovering ten feet above the ground, but he was still close enough that Izuku could make out the handsome cut of his profile and the razor-sharp edge of the smirk full of teeth gracing his angular features.

Hawks crossed his arms and tilted his head and as Izuku followed his golden gaze from where he was hidden in the shadows, the omega drew in a small gasp of relief as Kacchan finally came into view.

The alpha trudged out from the shadows with his lips twisted into a scowl and his teeth bared.

“Fuck off!” Kacchan snapped, his voice rough with a thinly-veiled growl. “I already told you to leave me the fuck alone! It ain’t your damn business where I’m going, so you better shut yer damn trap before I decide I could really go for some charred bird right about now!”

“Ooh, you’re losing your touch. A joke about turning me into food? C’mon, Bakugou, you’re better than that.”

Predictably, the blonde snarled in frustration despite the taunting smirk that only grew wider on Hawks’s lips. The thick fur-lined collar of his cloak did little to conceal the way his jaw flexed as his lips curled to bare his teeth. His hand dropped to clasp his fingers threateningly around the hilt of one of the numerous daggers sheathed at his waist before he shot Hawks a furious glare.

“You are so fuckin’ annoying,” Kacchan grumbled with his trademark scowl. “I already told you where the fuck I was going, so go fly your ass back to your nest and keep your damn beak out of my business.”

“Hah,” Hawks scoffed with a dry chuckle. “Right. Because a trip for some freshwater from the lake at this hour requires how many weapons?” Hawks gave his wings a heavy flap, leaving the barren branches of the trees nearby swaying in ripples from the force, before cocking his head to the side.

He squinted and made a show of stroking his chin, humming loudly in feigned thought.

“Let’s see, you’ve got three sheathes on that side, one more on the other, and I’m pretty sure you’re carrying your bow in that bag on your back. Isn’t that five weapons already–?”

The question was posed lightheartedly, but the mocking edge wasn’t lost on Izuku–and it clearly wasn’t lost on Kacchan, either, judging by the way the vein at his temple throbbed visibly as he bit back another strained growl.

“Hawks!” Izuku blurted out before the blonde-haired alpha’s bristling temper finally boiled over completely, stumbling out of the shadows with his satchel clutched tightly to his chest. The omega nearly stumbled over his own two feet in his haste to rush forward, but as he bit back a breathless grunt and caught himself enough to dart out into the open, he offered a wobbly smile. Toeing the ground, Izuku cleared his throat bashfully before piping up, “I–I didn’t know you were going to come and see us off!”

The moment crimson eyes snapped over to lock onto Izuku, the blonde-haired alpha blanched.

Izuku avoided looking over at him, freckled cheeks burning under the intensity of the other’s glare; the omega’s stomach tightened as he prepared himself for the maelstrom of anger that would no doubt descend upon him when he and Kacchan finally had a chance alone.

Hawks, however, found a great deal of amusement in Kacchan’s quickly-simmering anger and flashed a wide grin full of sharp teeth. He tore unblinking golden eyes away from the alpha in favor of sweeping a knowing look in Izuku’s direction.

“Oh, there you are, y’little scamp!” Hawks greeted cheerily, lilting drawl painfully upbeat despite the tension still hanging thickly in the air. “I was wondering when you’d finally show up!”

“I–I got a little carried away packing my supplies,” Izuku offered sheepishly, fumbling with the strap of his satchel for added emphasis.

Hawks purred in amusement. “Always so prepared, aren’t you?” he teased.

Before the omega could respond, Kacchan snarled in frustration. The sound was low but guttural, authoritative in the way only an alpha in its prime often could. It was nearly enough to make Izuku flinch, but he tensed his muscles to keep himself from giving in to the quiet whine of his inner omega’s protest.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Hawks knew?”

His words were dry and cutting, foregoing the hybrid altogether to address Izuku directly, instead. It was enough to make him startle, choking over a small noise that ended up caught in his throat, before his eyes widened to finally meet the smoldering crimson glare digging into him.

“Huh?” Izuku stuttered, brows pinching together.

“I said, why the fuck didn’t you tell me Hawks knew? Who else have you been telling about this, huh?”

“What? No one! I–I only told Hawks ‘cause he’s the one who got me the scrolls from Chief Todoroki’s library!”

“You could’ve fucking mentioned that! Damn bird’s been tailing me since I left my damn hut and I couldn’t shake him off–”

“Sounds like a personal skill issue, my friend.” Hawks had taken to perching on one of the low-hanging branches of a nearby tree, taloned fingers curled neatly into the barren wood. “You didn’t think I’d go against the Chief to steal classified information if I didn’t get some context, now did you?” There was something cold about his words that left a chill creeping up Izuku’s spine. The darkness shrouded him in its cloak, but the depths of his amber eyes glowed dangerously nonetheless as he stared down at the two of them.

He cocked his head to the side and as his lips pulled back to curl into a smirk, his sharp teeth glittered in the moonlight. Thick red wings were folded neatly to his back but as another glacial breeze buffeted past them, his feathers puffed up to make them look even larger, even more magnificent.

“You humans are quite entertaining. Even I’m not willing to take on a gamble that high-stakes. Your gods and goddesses might not mean much to me, but I can tell when there’s something bigger going on. Omens always do hold more weight when society is ill at ease. No one needed to tell me that to know that someone is going to need to make some rather unconventional choices…”

Slitted pupils zeroed in on Kacchan, who choked over an unnerved grunt under Hawks’s gaze.

“You’re lucky it’s me who knows and not anyone else. Izuku didn’t even ask me to fetch him those scrolls he was so desperate to get his little paws on. I caught him trying to sneak into the restricted wing of the Todoroki estate after Shoto left for his sewing lessons.” His words were sharp and scathing, bone-dry drawl enough to leave Izuku’s heart dropping to his stomach.

“He what?” Kacchan snapped. The air immediately thickened with the stench of rotted wood and a burning fire. His voice was rough and strained, gritted out through tightly-clenched teeth.

Izuku couldn’t bring himself to look up at him, immediately dropping his gaze to stare down at his boots. His own pheromones soured, reeking of wilted flowers and curdled milk.

Hawks flicked one of his wings idly. “If I hadn’t stepped in, I’m sure one of the handmaids would’ve happily escorted him to the Chief, instead. But I am, as always, incredibly gracious.”

The snarl that had lodged in Kacchan’s chest ripped to life suddenly, the acrid stench of smoke getting so thick that Izuku’s eyes nearly started burning.

“Are you crazy?” The alpha snapped, voice rising to a half-shout.

Izuku choked over a startled yelp and jolted upright. “K-Kacchan!” He hissed out, unable to quell the way his heart rate ticked up as he glanced anxiously over his shoulder. “Quiet! Someone might hear us and–”

“Bullshit!” Kacchan sneered, cutting Izuku’s protests off mid sentence. “It ain’t about that right now–is Hawks telling the truth? Did you try to steal them from the fucking War Chief’s archives yourself?”

The omega’s cheeks burned and his fingers flexed into a tightly-clenched fist to ward off the way his soulmark started to sting. His ears felt hot and his stomach rolled in discomfort; he was no stranger to Kacchan’s fury or his frustrations, which meant that Izuku wasn’t going to roll over in submission despite the alpha’s mounting anger.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Izuku shot the blonde a pointed look. As he leveled the alpha with an equally unrelenting stare of his own, Izuku willed himself to steel his nerves and hold his ground.

“I was doing what I thought I had to do,” he mumbled stubbornly. “The restricted archives are the only place I could think of that could have the answers! I didn’t have a choice–”

“Oh, fuck off!” Kacchan interjected with a low snarl. “Do you know how much trouble you could have been in if you got caught?”

Izuku’s ears burned even hotter.

“But–I didn’t get caught! Hawks found me and helped! And– and– I was right! It did have the answers and now we know–”

“That is so not the point right now, you damn nerd!”

“Kacchan, please!” Izuku finally snapped, voice rising an octave until the echoes of his cry reverberated through the silent path leading to the entrance of the village. It was enough to stun the alpha into silence and to grant Izuku a few spare seconds to catch his breath. “I– I know it’s dangerous! Everything about this is dangerous. Not just– just taking the scrolls from the archives, but everything we’re going to do… And Hawks… Hawks isn’t like us… he’s a hybrid.”

His voice grew small and sheepish as the avian perched in the treeline clicked in amusement. He didn’t bother to interject, though, and Izuku drew in a small shuddering breath before continuing.

“Hybrids… are said to be more attuned to the divine. Hawks knows better than any of us just how bad things are.”

Kacchan snapped his teeth together with a harsh clack. Izuku half-expected the alpha to sneer in frustration or to fire back something cutting and nasty in response–but when all that followed was a slew of incoherent grumbles under his breath, the omega felt some of the tension held tightly within him begin to melt away.

“So I knew… I knew that if I told Hawks what we needed to do… he’d be able to help us.”

“Yup,” Hawks finally chirped, popping the ‘p’ with a lazy purr. “I’m on your side, tough guy. ‘S not like Izuku is the only one I’m pullin’ a few favors for. Or did you forget?” The last sentence left his lips with a certain amount of weight that Izuku didn’t quite understand.

The omega furrowed his brows, eyes following the way Hawks’s gaze shifted to pin Kacchan with a knowing look.

He scoffed, lips twisting into a scowl as he let out an ill-tempered hiss.

“Whatever,” the alpha huffed curtly. “Still coulda warned me, fuckin’ nerd.”

Izuku’s scent grew tainted with mild embarrassment, but before he could stutter out an awkward response, Hawks hummed neutrally and unfolded his wings.

“If you two are done with your little lovers’ spat,” he began dryly, “then it’s best that you head out on your way. I’ll cover for as long as I can, but try to make it back by the full moon.”

“Lovers’ spat?!” Izuku choked out suddenly.

“The fuck did you just say?” Kacchan’s agitated bellow wasn’t any more graceful.

Hawks ignored them and instead flashed a cheeky smirk. Beating his wings once, twice, and then a third time, he launched himself off of the branch with a nimble kick.

“Don’t get into any trouble while you’re out there, yeah?”

The avian flashed the flabbergasted pair one last saucy look over his shoulder before disappearing into the night sky in a flurry of crimson and shimmering gold, leaving nothing but tense silence behind in his wake.

Izuku could feel the earlier surge of confidence that Toshinori’s steadfast faith had instilled in him earlier begin to dwindle. The air still tasted of wilted flowers, curdled milk, and burning pine–a heady and suffocating cocktail of their soured pheromones. Neither the alpha nor the omega dared to look over at one another as the slow, awkward seconds dragged by.

Clearing his throat, Izuku squared his shoulders and pivoted on his heel. Mustering up the last dregs of his conviction, he quickly blurted out, “can we make a quick stop before we go?”

At the same time, Kacchn snapped his head to the side to fix Izuku with a pointed look and growled, “let’s get a fuckin’ move on before we lose any more time.”

“Uh–” they bothe startled in unison, cutting one another off with a wide-eyed look of bewilderment.

Another awkward beat followed.

“R-right, we should just go instead of wasting any more time in Musutafu–”

“This better be the only damn pit stop, nerd, so let’s a get a fuckin’ move on–”

Izuku and Kacchan shared another bewildered look.

“Wait–” the omega choked out in surprise, wide green eyes blinking rapidly as he peered over at the other. “You… you don’t mind if we take a little detour?” Izuku couldn’t help the subtle flicker of hopefulness that crept through his words.

The blonde scoffed and swung his head to the other side, avoiding Izuku’s eyes as he squared his jaw with a scowl and grunted blandly in response. He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug before grumbling, “‘s whatever.”

Even from this distance, Izuku could make out the subtle features of Kacchan’s sharp profile–from the pinch of his brows to the way the muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched each time he gritted his teeth together. He searched his expression for something that would give away the alpha’s roiling frustrations like he had always done throughout the years… but this time, as he studied him, all Izuku could see in Kacchan’s face was uncertain trepidation.

It was strange to see him like this; Kacchan had always worn confidence like a second skin, baring his teeth with a smug sneer each and every time he descended upon Musutafu. He commanded the attention of all around him and he not only embraced it, he revelled in it. Since they were pups, Izuku always knew Kacchan would grow to become a formidable warrior–and back when he was still naive and innocent, he had always hoped to stand at his side with just as much valor and strength.

The years hadn’t been kind to him, though, and where Izuku had once watched Kacchan’s confidence with wide, awe-filled eyes, he grew to see an alpha that bristled at the mere thought of being around him for longer than he had to. His confident smirks grew twisted into mean snarls and bared teeth.

But now–now, Kacchan looked different from all of the above.

He looked… conflicted. Uncertain. Like there were far more questions racing through his mind than he dared to confess to aloud.

Kacchan looked vulnerable–something Izuku never thought he’d see before. And it was enough to render him speechless.

It wasn’t until the alpha growled and shot Izuku a pointed look. With a snap of his teeth, Kacchan pulled Izuku from his thoughts as he grumbled, “so, where the hell did you want to go, anyway?”

Izuku blinked, stuttering out an inelegant oh, right! before straightening his back and squaring his shoulders.

“Um–it’s actually just east of the entrance,” he started sheepishly, peering up at him balefully before pointing to the left. “There’s just someone I need to check up on before we go…”

Kacchan narrowed his eyes at him, deathly silent. For a moment, Izuku was worried the alpha changed his mind, but before he could stutter out another excuse, Kacchan scoffed.

“Whatever. Lead the way, but don’t start laggin’. It’s past high-moon and if we want to make good time, we gotta leave as soon as possible. This better be worth it, damn nerd.”

“Right!” Izuku caught himself before he stumbled over his own two feet, darting forward. He skirted past the blonde, head ducked to avoid meeting the burning crimson gaze that followed his movements. “It’s not far, promise it won’t take too long…”

Kacchan only rolled his eyes and grumbled a slew of inaudible curses under his breath. Izuku didn’t have to look over his shoulder to sense the alpha’s presence at his heels.

His tread was rather light for someone of his size and stature–but then again, Kacchan had always been one of the most skilled hunters in their batch. Izuku could hardly detect the sound of snow crunching under his boots. Instead, it was the familiar scent of musk and pine beginning to even out over the acrid stench of smoke that had been lingering in the air that reminded him of the alpha following his footsteps.

Izuku was nimble as he ducked and darted through the shadows, pausing only every once in a while to ensure his and Kacchan’s earlier frustrations hadn’t roused the suspicions of any straggling village mates that might have been wandering around in the dark. When he stood for too long, he could feel the looming warmth of the blonde-haired alpha lingering at his back. He was always a few steps behind, but still close enough that the quiet sounds of his exhales were just enough to prick Izuku’s ears.

They moved with rather smooth synergy–Kacchan pausing to survey behind them each time Izuku took a moment to scan the paths ahead–until they came across a small, rickety hut.

It was hidden behind overgrown foliage, tucked into a mass of tangled brambles and untamed bushes. The trees were bare, its naked branches shuddering with each frigid breeze that whipped by. The hut looked abandoned–or at least, uninhabited for the most part. The path leading up to its door was heavy with snow and fallen branches and the wooden panes around the windows were beginning to grow dark with rot.

“We’re here,” Izuku breathed out just as it came into view.

Kacchan gave a confused grunt at his side; he was closer than Izuku had expected, forcing the omega to nearly jump out of his skin as the warmth of his breath washed against his ear.

“This dump?” the blonde groused. “Why did you want to come here?”

Izuku swallowed, trying his best to ignore the subtle shiver that crawled its way up his spine.

“I told you, there’s someone I wanted to see.”

“No one lives here, dumbass,” Kacchan deadpanned. “It’s abandoned. Look, the windows are all fuckin’ decaying.”

“They don’t live in the hut, Kacchan.” Izuku huffed out sharply, eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he shot Kacchan a muted glare of his own from the corner of his eye.

“Hah?”

Izuku didn’t bother answering him; instead, the omega heaved out a small sigh of muted exasperation and trudged forward.

“Oi!” Kacchan hissed behind him. “Where are you going?!”

With a click of his tongue, Izuku opted to ignore him. The wooden fence was worn and weathered, overgrown moss clinging to the base of each post, but it was still stable enough for Izuku to grab onto it. Exhaling a muted grunt, the green-haired omega hoisted himself over the top of it in one easy movement.

He secured his satchel, patting it to ensure the leather flap was still in place, before darting through the overgrown weeds.

“For the love of Demeter– fucking hell!”

Kacchan’s gripes sounded distant, but as Izuku wove his way deeper into the fenced-off area tucked into the rickety hut’s side, he could make out the sound of the alpha shouldering through the path his footsteps had left behind.

Izuku only came to a halt when he was halfway through the weed-filled yard.

“There she is,” he finally breathed out, voice small and quiet.

With an ill-tempered growl, the blonde-haired alpha lurched to a halt at his side. He grumbled something under his breath, but the sound cut off with an abrupt sound of surprise as his gaze followed Izuku’s to settle on whatever it was that the omega was looking at.

Sitting all on her lonesome beneath the quiet watch of the moon was the gray-furred donkey that had excitedly munched on dandelion greens from Izuku’s own hands only two days prior. All four of her legs were bent at the knee where she crouched low to the ground, ears drooping and unmoving despite the flies buzzing around her in wait.

With every step they took towards the animal, the more the air began to taste sour with illness.

“Moony,” Izuku cooed softly as he drew closer still, “oh, poor thing. You’re looking worse than earlier today, aren’t you?” His words felt heavy with sadness as his brows pinched and his lips curled into a frown.

She merely flicked one ear in loose acknowledgement in lieu of bleating up at him.

Izuku’s heart sank. He dropped to his knees at her side when he was finally close enough, tutting down at her all the while. Cupping her face in his hands, he allowed his thumbs to brush over her muzzle. She peered up at him, but the dark depths of her eyes were cloudy and glazed over–like she couldn’t quite see him at all despite how close he was.

The omega felt his chest pang.

Only two sunrises ago, Moony had been butting her head to his chest in excitement, snapping her dull teeth at his pockets for a taste at whatever treat he had smuggled in for her. She wasn’t a particularly strong creature, too weak to help cart provisions in and out of the village, but she was a buoyant and vibrant animal with more personality than some of the people Izuku knew.

But now, here she sat, barely able to register the way Izuku cradled her long face and cooed down at her with sweet reassurances. The darkness was only the start–that’s what all the tomes and passages alluded to. Plague, death, and worse could befall those who stayed ignorant to the warnings of the divine–and Moony might just be the first casualty in the list if he didn’t act quickly.

“I know,” he finally whispered. “I know you don’t feel well… but I’ll be back soon, okay? And when I’m back, things will get better. Promise…”

He hadn’t even registered the sound of Kacchan’s movements skirting around them until he heard the alpha’s muted groan at his side as he squatted next to him. Izuku swallowed thickly, refusing to lift his head up and look over at the other even as the familiar scent of fresh evergreen and pine wafted around him. As he pressed the pads of his fingers into the coarse fur of Moony’s rounded cheeks, the omega willed himself to ignore the sensation of thread pulling taut around his chest.

“What’s wrong with it?” Kacchan’s words were low and gruff, but they lacked any real bite behind them.

It was enough for Izuku to draw in a small, shuddering breath.

There were a plethora of things he wanted to say–some cheeky, some earnest, and some vague–but instead of sifting through them, he hung his head and let out a tired sigh. When he did speak, his words were hushed and defeated.

“She’s sick,” he started warily. Kacchan scoffed like he was going to point out that that much was obvious, but before he could, Izuku pressed on. “And–it could be a coincidence. But last night, I… I had a dream. A really bad dream.” Izuku pressed his lips into a thin line, his own scent thinning out with his distress. “In my dream, there… there were a lot of dead animals. I–I thought if I ignored it, nothing would happen. But today, when the sun just disappeared…”

He trailed off with a trembling breath, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek. It took him a second to compose himself before he choked out a quiet, humorless laugh.

“It sounds crazy,” Izuku amended. “I know it does, but I know it’s connected. And that’s why–”

“–we’re going through with this to get back in Demeter’s good graces. Right.”

Izuku choked.

He hadn’t expected Kacchan to answer him in earnest, but the moment his low, gravely rasp washed over him, the omega couldn’t help the way his head snapped up to give the blonde a wide-eyed look of surprise.

Kacchan’s head was bowed and his jaw set. He was looking intensely down at the donkey cradled in Izuku’s hands through conflicted red hues and as his brows pinched, it became more and more obvious that he was wrapped up deep in his own thoughts.

The omega blinked, drawing in a small breath before whispering, “did… did you have the same dream?”

He swallowed thickly and didn’t respond. A beat passed before Kacchan flared his nostrils and gave his head a slow, reluctant nod. As Izuku watched him, he couldn’t help the way his heart stuttered in his chest.

Izuku had been so caught up in the semantics of it all, wrapped up in deciphering the codes, the details, the grimoire to find a way out of the mess Demeter had tangled him into that he had nearly forgotten that Kacchan must have also been seeing the signs.

He wondered for a brief moment whether the nightmares were just as visceral for the alpha, too. Just as haunting. The omega studied him in silence until Kacchan finally grunted, tilting his head to shoot Izuku a knowing look. He nearly startled, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the smoldering red eyes that locked onto his verdant gaze.

Kacchan drew in a breath through flared nostrils and parted his lips to speak–but he hesitated. It was strange to see him like this and Izuku couldn’t help the way he blinked owlishly up at the alpha as he awkwardly worked through his words.

“Dead animals… sick carcasses. And a really dark sky. I had that dream the other night,” he finally confessed, voice low and rough. His brows pinched, forming a crease between them at his forehead, before his lips twisted at the corners into a scowl to match.

“I didn’t think it fuckin’ mattered either. Which is why–earlier… when the sun disappeared, I…. I just–” He choked up; Izuku couldn’t help but blink in surprise as the alpha quickly looked away, pheromones souring instantly at the same time. With a loud growl of frustration, Kacchan snapped his teeth together and hissed, “nevermind.”

Izuku felt his chest flutter again just as the thread twining through his ribs tightened subtly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered without thinking. He was gentle as he pulled one hand away from Moony’s face in favor of reaching towards the blonde. Izuku hesitated for only a second before letting the tips of his scarred fingers brush gently against Kacchan’s forearm. The alpha grunted in surprise. He tensed under his touch, but he didn’t pull away. Biting his lip, Izuku hesitantly placed the flat of his palm to his arm properly. “I… I shouldn’t have waited so long to say something… I should’ve come to you as soon as I learned about unbonding. Maybe if we learned about this earlier, things would have gotten this bad…”

Kacchan didn’t answer him. Izuku could feel the way the corded muscles of his forearms tensed under his touch, jumping as the alpha curled his fingers into a fist. He half expected the blonde to jerk away from under his hand, or to snarl and snap his teeth in warning until the omega took the hint to take a step back, but it never came.

Instead, the alpha passed his tongue over his teeth and grit out a strained sigh.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kacchan finally muttered. He sounded tired, like exhaustion had finally begun to settle in. “Then, now, yesterday, tomorrow… fuck it. What matters is that we’re here, right?”

“Ah,” Izuku tried to blink away his surprise, pulling his hand back from where he had rested it on the alpha’s arm. “Yeah–yeah, I guess… I guess you’re right.”

As Kacchan pushed himself back up to his feet, he grunted and turned on his heel. “Damn right I am,” he scoffed. “So let’s move. Yer damn friend better keep it together until we’re back. I don’t wanna have to axe her damn head off after we got all this bonding shit sorted.”

Despite the crass edge to his words, Kacchan’s tone was quiet and neutral. Izuku bit his lip in an attempt to quell the ghost of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Right,” he breathed out, giving Moony’s coarse mane one last pet before adjusting his satchel over his shoulder. Heaving himself back up to his feet with a sigh of his own, Izuku raised his head and summoned up what remained of his confidence to follow Kacchan’s footsteps.

The alpha grunted in affirmation, pausing just long enough to cast Izuku one last glance over his shoulder to meet Izuku’s gaze. The moment burning crimsons locked onto verdant greens, they both went still. For just a brief moment, Izuku’s chest felt a fraction lighter–like they had both just acknowledged something unspoken between the two of them.

Just as the thread twining their souls together pulsed to life, both Izuku and Katsuki gave each other one last nod before shouldering through the treeline bordering the village they called home.