Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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“Are you sure about this?” the asshole asked for the upteenth time, and Katsuki rolled his eyes because at this point it was clear the idiot was just asking to reassure himself.

“Are you sure about this? You’re the one who fucking offered, stupid Deku,” he responded in kind, voice just as charismastic and gentle as it normally was (not very) . The aged omegas that had been sitting across from them the entire ride thus far let out loud gasps that made the alpha turn a dark shade of red in response, and Katsuki couldn’t help but smirk at the way he practically tripped over his tongue trying to figure out how to respond. “If you want your sweater back, fucking take it. I don’t give a fuck.”

The old woman with a horribly done coloring- as if anyone would buy that she was still a redhead in her prime with her battily, wrinkled visage- grabbed her glossy purple purse and stood promptly, offering him a stern glare as she started down the walkway to force some poor soul out of their seat at the mercy of her granny ankles. 

“No, no-” Deku rushed out, cutting off when she purposely bumped into him. He bit his lip as he watched her stalk away, the blush growing more vibrant as she disappeared towards the back of the train. “I want you to have it, it’s just- are you sure about-”

“I don’t need it though, Deku,” he reminded him, already shrugging the grey abomination off his shoulders. He couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing walking into UA in an AllMight fan sweater from five years ago when it was rumored that the hero grinning toothily on the back of it was going to be walking the halls with them. There was also the fact that it also stank of alpha pheromones hungover from puberty when Deku was still a short little bitch who probably sobbed all over the stupid piece of clothing.

“ I know ,” the greenette stated firmly, reaching out to halt Katsuki’s movement and tug the sweater back fully over his shoulders, refusing to meet his eyes. The blonde gave him a sharp glare for using that voice on him, but he had hardly opened his mouth to curse him out about it when his childhood friend was continuing. “I want you to wear this. It’ll cancel out at least some of what the scent blockers would’ve,” he pointed out, and Katsuki could only sharply turn his head away at that because he wasn’t about to admit he didn’t have a solid argument against it yet .

Inko had been the one to bring it up at first. As a fellow omega, she had immediately been revolted by the fact that UA didn’t allow scent blockers of any kind. And although Katsuki hadn’t been half as surprised- as pro heroes were required to expose their scents by law (some bullshit about it being more comforting to the victims they were liberating), he couldn’t seem to convince his aunt that it was an orthodox requirement in any way. She had gone behind his back and brought up her concern to his two alpha parents, who were equally overprotective in their own ways, and with her new backup- they all grouped together to gaslight Deku into digging through his closet to find a suitable shirt that would block out Katsuki’s scent without suffocating him in it’s size.

When Deku had offered the cursed object to him just after they had won a level of their favorite video game- probably assuming he was too drunk on the high of triumph to get angry- he had decisively tossed it and kicked the idiot alpha out into the rainy night with a shout of: “fuck you momma’s boy!”  

A week later, when after the effects of his last dosage of pills had finally worn off and all he could smell was fucking caramel and burnt sugar, he had trudged his way back over to his desk trashbin and bowed his head in shame as he dug around the paper scrapts for the grey monstrosity.

Deku had grinned at it, dopily and dumbly, when they met each other at the train station that morning. Katsuki greeted him with a cheery: “ shut the fuck up .”

“Look, Kacchan, it’s just-” the alpha let out a huff of air, at a loss for anything to say. Boring his irritated glare into him, Katsuki let him struggle for another minute. In that time, another one of the old omegas, the bleach blonde, had raised her watery eyes over her half-moon spectacles at them. The misplaced interest in that gaze made the younger omega revolted enough to put Deku out of his misery.

The blonde shrugged the meaty hands off of his shoulders and the alpha relented after half a second, dropping his arms to his sides where they swung uselessly. “I fucking get it,” he admitted yieldingly, averting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch Deku swallow hard at his submission. He refrained from clenching his teeth at the action. 

He knew the idiot alpha had no control over his reactions, at least not until he found his fated one , but he couldn’t help but feel increasingly uncomfortable around him since he presented. As if he was doing something wrong for hanging out with his best friend. “Don’t look so fucked over, I agreed to wearing this shit, didn’t I?” he managed to force a half smile, raising his eyes once more.

“Surprisingly,” Deku mused with a light laugh. “I thought you hated grey?”

“I hate silver,” Katsuki corrected. 

The woman across from them bristled as the train came to a stop. “What an awful thing to say,” one of the ladies murmured as she rose from her seat, and he could tell that Deku was thinking the same thing as his smile became more stiff.

Of course he’d react like that. Silver was the omegan color. The color his eyes would flash the second he saw his fated one for the first time. The color he bemoaned since presenting as an omega. It was only naturally an alpha would be slightly uncomfortable at the mention of it, at the mention of an omega hating their dynamic and being so outspoken about it. Deku was no exception to societal norms, no matter how long and well they had known each other.

“This is our stop,” Katsuki pointed out, pivoting around him after grabbing his bag. He was doing him a favor by deciding not to drag on the topic. If he wanted to, he could make a huge deal about it and rile Deku into a talk about their society and why he should love his omegan side because it was a part of who he was . But he wouldn’t do that to the idiot today.

Today was too important.

Deku grinned thankfully, slinging his cherry backpack over his shoulder and bounding after him enthusiastically. He didn’t offer a second glance to the still scowling omegas as they stepped off the train together, his green eyes stuck firmly ahead as they left the issue behind them for now.

“We made it,” he murmured, eyes shining. 

Katsuki’s smile was genuine as he said: “keep the sappy shit to yourself, dumbass.”

()

“Are you excited?” the Todoroki head butler asked as they pulled up to the base of the mountain that UA stood high and proud atop of. 

As a prestigious school, it’s campus at least looked the part with it’s high, arching structures of sapphire blue and pearly white. The night before his father had boasted repeated tangents about it being the top school in the country, as if he hadn’t told Shouto that since he was old enough to understand, and though he didn’t want to, the alpha could see what he meant as he studied the manomothic building casting a shadow down half the declining slope around it. It looked less like the hell he expected and more like a lofty heaven floating above the city around it.

“Yes,” Shouto answered curtly, playing his part.

The butler let out a satisfied hum and unlocked the doors of the family limousine. 

It was easier to lie. 

In his youth he had gone to the maids and workers whenever he needed to complain, fooled into believing them to be more kind spirited with his overly-expecting father. When he reached his seventh year, he finally noticed the connection between what he sobbed to them and what his father reprimanded him for him during their training sessions. Fuyumi finally fessed up up one day and told him that all the estate workers were tasked with reporting on his behavior, including all his breakdowns. 

Shouto decided to keep his tears to himself from then on.

He pushed open the door of the sleek, obsidian vehicle before his butler could attempt to rush out and do the oh-so-burdensome task for him. There were other students milling around nearby and he already seemed like a pretentious jerk getting out of a vehicle that rounded up to costing 100,000 dollars when they all clearly walked, so he didn’t want to amp the assumption up by needing someone else to hold open his door for him. The butler let out a tired sigh, his wet, bland brown eyes watchful and heavy on his back as he stepped out of the car and shut it closed behind him. 

He drove off without preamble. Shouto hadn’t stopped in his strides to offer up a gesture of goodbye, continuing to the gravel path that lead to the future his father had hand selected for him.

Already he was irritated, and the giggling around him did nothing to subdue it. Before he had even made it to the trail, other students were stepping purposely in his way- alphas to size him up and omegas trying to fatefully meet his eyes. He sidestepped the majority of them and avoided the gazes of all of them by keeping his own planted firmly ahead, never once letting it  fall from the large oak he had chosen to study. It was a large, sturdy thing, far more interesting than any of the gushing girls and boys who fell in his path.

He would’ve continued on his tirade of neglect, cosplaying his father’s stolidness, but he had just made it to his tree when a soprano behind him froze him between strides. “Shou-chan!” the feminine voice sang out, excitably, just soft enough to be considered polite, but loud enough to gain his attention.

Despite himself, his lips twitched upwards for a fraction of a second as he turned and saw a familiar white limousine driving off into the distance and with it, the girl who had gotten out of it. 

Originally, Yaoyorozu Momo was supposed to be the omega he was “fated.” Even if they hadn’t biologically reacted positively to each other, their families were prepared to pretend they had and pay their actual fated ones a bribe to send them off. It was pure luck that Momo presented as a beta for him, and though she had been just as relieved to find out they weren’t actually meant to be (it was downright revolding to have his father tease about him breeding her one day when he considered her a sister figure above anything else), it had lead to her downfall within her family.

Being an omega herself, her mother had been slightly disappointed when Momo had presented with the lackluster scent of a beta, but she hadn’t blacklisted her daughter like her husband did. The head of the Yaoyorozu family became cold to her once he found he couldn’t marry her off and that she was simply a ‘useless’ beta, deciding to send her off whenever he could and avoid her presence at all hours. It had been a hard and fast transition. She went from being the princess of her father’s world, being presented presents of gold and silver and bows of pink and red, to the bane of his existence, being sent off to UA since it was what her father proclaimed the only thing she was good for anymore.

“I see you’re already quite popular,” Momo teased once she was close enough. Her face was flushed a light pink because of the wind and her ravenous hair was held up in a ponytail with a clip from her youth- a pretty jade present from her father. Already she was garnering attention as well, but as soon as her scent hit the noises of those she attracted, they dismally turned back to Shouto.

He refrained from glaring at them. “Against my will,” he decided to state instead. Momo laughed a sweet little sound and they started up the trail together.

For the majority of the hike, they were silent, mutely watching the birds darting between the trees and the shenanigans of the students who had decided to follow them up. Behind them, a girl was getting a pep talk from her friends about approaching him and up ahead, a short boy with purple balls for hair kept glancing back at Momo with an expression that didn’t rub against his alpha well. 

If not for the annoying distractions, the walk would’ve been nice. It was a breezy, serene day and the sun was glittering through the leaves of the tree above them. Shouto could make out a flute-like song of a bird somewhere deeper in the forest mixing with the chirps of crickets and creaking of the branches above them. On days like these he normally went on jogs around the estate or brought a book outside to read, they were his favorite type.

Midway up, Momo interrupted their serenity for the first time. “Has your father found a replacement for me yet?” she questioned lowly, furtive almost. It was an inquiry she frequented often. No matter what he reassured her, she had never stopped feeling guilty that he’d have to mate with a stranger. God forbid his father allow him with his fated one after all- it was too risky for that man. What if his mate had a weak quirk or a weak rank within the socialites?

“No,” Shouto answered partially honestly. His father hadn’t made any solid decisions yet, but he couldn’t pretend not to notice the old man circling names in magazines and expensive surnames in the phone book. At the moment he wasn’t engaged, but he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t be next week. “I’m not worried though.” So you shouldn’t be .

Momo’s eyes slanted off to the side and she tugged at the scuffs of her uniform jacket. Judging by the crevices appearing between her sharp eyebrows, she was thinking hard about what to say next. Shouto didn’t have the heart to tell her that she shouldn’t bother. He already knew what was on her mind and she already knew what his response would be.

“Don’t you care about who you’ll end up with?” she asked anyway. 

He doesn’t hesitate. “No.”

Though society seemed emored by the thought of fated ones and mating, it had never been a big deal to him. His parents weren’t fated ones, and there was no love between them that he knew of, so he had never been introduced to what a healthy parental relationship looked like when he was younger. Even when he was older and finally exposed to it in the form of Momo’s parents, he hadn’t been very intrigued. It wasn’t that they weren’t in love enough to make an impression on him, but he simply saw their soft touches and loving glances as uninteresting. His father told him he’d understand after he had a docile omega submit to him for the first time, but Shouto couldn’t help but be doubtful.

He was simply uninterested in the strings of romance, he supposed. Getting tangled in them would just get in the way of him passing up his father one day, so he decided to sacrifice his lovelife and agree to get married to some random aristocrat he didn’t know and get that portion of his life over with. It was a small fee for him.

Momo had never shared his sentiments. They had never openly spoken about it, but he knew she ached for flowers and candied hearts, for soft caresses and softer whispers. It was part of the reason she had been so relieved when their parents called off their mating- she had known she would never be able to get that from him. It was also part of the reason she had been so sullen by it all the same- as a beta, she would never have a fated one.

She seemed like she had more to say on the matter, Shouto could tell the words were brimming on the tip of her tongue, but they had reached the entrance of the school before she could say anything. He couldn’t help but be grateful he never had to hear her insistent naggings about why mating and fated ones were important.

“We made it,” she said instead, lips parting into a smile, deciding to leave her insistence for a later date, over tea probably.

Shouto nodded slightly, staring up at the large building, the first step to overthrowing his father. “So we did.”

()

The thing about fated ones is that, most of the time, they’re unconventional.

Shouto has read dozens of stories about how someone ended up fated to someone in the same grocery aisle as them or someone they accidentally bumped into on a train. Most of society ditches everything for this person they’ve never met before, dropping relationships and budding romances for a stranger they made eye contact with for only a minute at the most. They go out of their way to get each other's contact information and meet up with one another, force themselves through awkward first dates and awkward first times, force themselves to work with one another to marriage. 

He never understood how so many people could be so senseless.

At least until he turned into his homeroom on the first day of school and his whole life was flipped over on its axis.

A split second- their eyes met and suddenly a growl was tearing through his throat. 

Shouto wasn’t normally an alpha for aggressive actions or movements, but suddenly his fingers were twitching with the desire to clench around something - a long, pale throat for instance- and he felt hot all over. It wasn’t like his father’s uncomfortable hot that left him sweaty either;  it wasn’t the painfully burning sensation he had known throughout his youth. It was warm, open, and full of pleasure. He could get lost in it if he closed his eyes. 

It was warm like a flame in the midst of winter. Warm like a thick blanket in the middle of a storm. Warm like home, like belonging.

Deep red eyes flashed silver momentarily, and his face was flushed beautifully, but the first thing out of his omega ’s mouth was anything but conventionally primal and submissive the way it was supposed to be. Instead of whining or whimpering the way they did in the movie's, Todoroki Shouto’s omega growled back.

And oh , his father would not like that. But by the way his heart skipped a beat, and his lips spread into an exhilarated grin, he couldn’t quite convince himself that he agreed with his old man’s sentiments.

“Oh goodness! I’ll go get the counselor!” someone shouts. Shouto has half the mind to recognize that it’s the tall alpha with glasses who had been reprimanding his omega a moment prior. He rushes past him through the doorway faster than any human should’ve been able to, but he doesn’t think of him long enough to consider it having something to do with his quirk because god, his omega is gorgeous.

He has his legs propped up on the table and an arm slung over his chair- a disrespectful posture that would drive his father insane. Ash blonde hair even from a distance looks soft and the silver of his eyes is slowly melting into a beautiful ruby red. His face looks like it was sculpted by the gods, with high cheekbones and full, pouting lips; and through the open collar of his shirt, his collarbones are prominent and his neck is smooth and inviting. 

It takes him a moment to realize he’s scowling still and another, after Momo nudges him gently, to realize that they have an audience. The entirety of their first year class.

“Wow! How lucky!” a feminine voice coos, a girl who’s clearly unaware of the lethal stare down he’s currently having with his ‘fated one.’ No one echoes her soft cheers.

Even though he’s smirking, he can tell by the looks they’re receiving from those closer to them that neither of them look happy to see each other. He’s heard rumors that all of the silver dynamic break down into tears whenever they meet their eternal pairs, that they’re supposed to turn bright pink and bow their heads frantically, that they’re supposed to be excited .

His omega roughly pushes out of his chair and stands, holding his gaze the entire time as he stalks over to him. 

His scent is intoxicating of burnt sugar and caramel, like a sweet his teeth ache to take a bite out of. But before he can sink into it, he catches another smell and with it notices the grey hoodie hanging off of the blonde’s shoulders in place of the school uniform blazer. It’s a woody, forestry smell- another alpha. His eye twitches as he tries to remind himself that this is a stranger .

“Oi dickface, what the hell are you looking at?” the omega asks, mockingly blunt. Around them a couple fellow students gasp loudly at the coarse language and Momo shrinks slightly beside him. “Something on my fucking face?”

“Your eyes are silver,” Shouto said simply. “And I’m guessing mine are gold.”

The omega bares his teeth. He only comes up to just past Shouto’s shoulders, as most people do, but the alpha gets the feeling that his aura normally makes him seem taller than he actually is. “And what of it, fucker?” His voice is gruff and cruel.

“Normally, that’d mean we’re a fated pair.” he responds, bluntly, wondering if his omega knows a kinder tone.

He doesn’t. “Oh yeah, asshole?”

“Oh—uh, yeah.” 

Todoroki Shouto doesn’t know when exactly it happens or why, because he’s high off the adrenaline of the moment at that point, but then he and his omega are on the floor engaged in a fist fight that would go down in UA history.

Yeah. Fated Pairs were normally unconventional.

Chapter Text

()

Todoroki Shouto leaves the fight with a throbbing nose, and, judging by the increasingly irritated red that mars the skin around his omega’s left eye, who he had learned was “Kacchan” ends up with a black eye.

After however long of roughhousing, in which the class was exuberant with a medley of cheers and screams, Shouto and Kacchan were lifted upside down into the air. His hands were still curled firmly in blonde hair and his omega’s were fisting at his collar by the time they were both shifted to come face to face with the glowering gaze of Aizawa Shouta. 

Their homeroom teacher promptly dropped them on their heads and assigned them three weeks of detention and a trip to the principal's office to start off the term.

“Congratulations,” Principal Nezu says as soon as they’re settled on the couch before his desk, as far as possible from each other. It’s a wonder his omega manages to remain seated with the imbalanced position he’s in on the very edge of the cushion. Shouto has the split second urge to brush his fingers against him just to see him topple off the side and slam face first into the desk before them, but then he remembers himself and clenches his fist. Aggressiveness had never been a trait that could be pegged to his name, so he couldn’t begin to understand why he was boiling in his own ire at the moment. “It must feel great to have found your mate so early in life.”

For a moment, Shouto speculates whether he even knows the full situation. He congratulates them with a warm amiability as if he can’t see the bruises each of them are sporting or the angry fire in the omega’s eyes at his side. Neither of them want to hear those words and Kacchan is making it clear with the way his scent spikes under that irritating abomination of an alpha’s sweater to a nauseating sweetness. Having always prided himself for his poker face and ever neutral appearance, Shouto can’t even begin to imagine what his face reveals at the moment as his lip trembles and his eyes narrow.

Nezu’s voice is just as pleasant as it was before as he continues, but this time his statement calls for dramatically different reaction. As expected UA was such a prestigious school as his father had bragged all throughout his youth- so their altercation wouldn’t be tolerated- he had been expecting that. And yet still, he couldn’t help but break into an immediate cold sweat to hear what ‘not tolerating’ would entail. “However, fighting is not permitted on campus, and therefore I will have to contact your respective guardians right now. This would be a great time to make the announcement by the way!” 

Shouto’s blood runs cold. In his anger, he had nearly forgotten the mess he was in the second he stepped into through the doors of his estate that afternoon. There was no way his father was not going to go into cardiac arrest the second he heard of Kacchan, his omega , with all his blunt edges and caustic swagger. The blonde couldn’t be any more different than the potential mates his father hand selected for him; those omegas were doe eyed and dainty and, though they had powerful quirks, they were all attendees of famed finishing schools and studied the subjects expected of them like literature and the arts. None of them would’ve dared raise their gazes to meet an alpha’s head on; none of them would’ve engaged in a fistfight with an alpha in even their worst nightmares; none of them were anything close to the all punches and swears attitude of Kacchan.

Ironic as it was, it was comical that he had managed to somehow be fated to someone as bombastic and diatribe as the omega at his side, someone who could make his father have an aneurism with a single wanton glance. The only part of it that wasn’t humorous was the fact that he had to tell said father. And that he had to tell him now , judging by Nezu’s insistent nods as he jammed his small paw into the phone on his desk. 

Kacchan somehow managed to look bored and infuriated at once, finally slouching back on the couch as the ringing echoed through the room like a foreboding mantra. His expression was one of indifference, as if he couldn’t care less which order they go in or having to tell his parents at all, but the twitching of his brow revealed that his immediate feelings about the whole situation had yet to fade. Shouto considered him lucky, to not be tense and worried that his parent’s voices could sound on the other side of the line within the minute. It must be nice to have parents that weren’t overbearing or delusional.

At least they wouldn’t be an issue. That meant the whole ordeal could be dealt with more cleanly and his father would likely be able to negotiate for their silence behind closed doors. There was no way the old bastard would allow him to mate with someone like the boy next to him- he had worked too long and hard constructing his bloodline for it to be poisoned by one rouge omega- and would undoubtedly be tossing money at Kacchan’s family the second they met in order to forget this event never occurred. That wouldn’t change what the class saw or knew, but thankfully, they could at least cut strings without any other complications.

Nezu placed the phone next to his ear and shouldered it to keep it there, and Shouto had an ounce of hope that maybe he had been lucky for once of his life and it was the heathens of parents that raised Kacchan on the other end, but then the principal broke into a familiar smile and greeted: “Endeavor, I do hope I’m not bothering you! This is Principal Nezu, how are you?” and his stomach dropped.

The omega at his side bristled, and it was almost comical how he snapped from nonchalant to alarmed with a single word. It wasn’t all that surprising that he’d be so reactive to the name of the second ranked Pro Hero- they were attending a school for aspiring heroes after all- but still, Shouto couldn’t hold back his snort when he was nearly incinerated by an accusatory glare as the blonde rounded on him. 

“You’re that rich bitch Todoroki Shoujo,” wasn’t the first thing Shouto expected to fall from the gaping lips across from him. He was anticipating more gushing- something more along the lines of “oh my god, the second Pro Hero?!” or a familiar squeal of “Todoroki Shouto?!”- the right name at least. He was beginning to realize that he wasn’t the best at gauging the actions of his omega, because then he’s scowling again and slumping back into the couch. “Motherfucker, talk about shitty ass luck.”

Shouto didn’t think he was that bad of a catch honestly. Not bad at all even. Based on the reaction of campus to his every miniscule movement, he was a popular bachelor- people wanted him, or at least their drooling and glazed over gazes gave off the impression. He was rich, he had an attractive face fit for a prince—or at least he read that in a magazine once—and he had charming mannerisms. After sucker punching the omega, maybe the latter didn’t seem as factual, but the first two points still stood so he couldn’t see why he was receiving such a revolted address.

“I am Todoroki Shouto ,” he agreed, if only to distract himself from the fact that his father was about to be informed that his son engaged in a fist fight- with his fated one - just after Nezu finished up his pleasantries. He could already hear the disbelieving beat of silence and then the long, familiar scream of “ SHOUTOOOO ” that would tarnish his ears later that night. 

“Wow, really?” the omega deadpans and Shouto ignores him.

“And you’re Kacchan?” he asks instead, realizing a second too late that ‘Kacchan’ sounds like less of a name and more of an endearment. He’s informed as much by the sneer that screws up the blonde’s features.

“I’m none of your fucking business asshat. Don’t call me that.” But that other alpha called you that , something snipes in the back of his mind, and he shuts it off immediately by reminding himself that this is a stranger sitting across from him, who, hardly half an hour ago, slammed his head into the ground and tried to throttle him to death. Whether he had an alpha or not already was none of his business- though he couldn’t help but feel some semblance of irritation every time he so much as glanced at the oversized sweater hanging over his omega’s shoulders.

Biting down the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, he pressed further despite the glower he’s currently pinned with. “What do I call you?”

His voice is weak against the snarl of the omega’s tone. “Don’t call me.”

“The omega’s name is Bakugou Katsuki- ah, yes that very one!” 

Bakugou Katsuki looks murderous and Todoroki Shouto doesn’t know what he feels.

Bakugou wasn’t a common last name and easily recognizable as the family behind one of the biggest brands in Japanese fashion. All of his father’s suits were personally tailored and designed by the famed Mitsuki and Masaru, and Shouto even had his fair share of cumberbuns and straight jackets from the duo. Owning Bakugou apparel was a trait every aristocrat possessed these days, and the company was even starting to be noted at a global extent for their classy, sheek and yet innovative designs.

He’s heard rumors of Mitsuki’s temper, and if he had ever been in denial of any of them, his father was quick to correct him with personal accounts of his interaction with the successful alpha. She was irrationally angry according to many who had been graced with her presence and extremely demanding. More than once, after his father had come back from a sizing or an event when he came across the Bakugous’, he’d mutter something along the lines of how such a beautiful woman was wasted on her intense personality or that it was a wonder that her mate could stand her for so long with her dominating idiosyncrasy. Especially as an alpha himself, it was a wonder they had lasted so long together- not many alpha/alpha relationships did.

It wasn’t hard to match the similarities to the boy at his side and realize drearily that he had been fated to the heir of the Bakugou Fashion Co, a son who had surprisingly presented as a dynamic neither his parents nor the world had expected a few years back. And though his father clearly had never been a fan of Mitsuki and her abrasive mannerisms, he was a fan of big names and weighty wallets. 

The likelihood of their ability to pay off the omega’s families silence had just plummeted by a tenfold after realizing they were also millionaires- that was if his father still even wanted to call off the mating when his fated one was such a high ranking socialite with a quirk powerful enough to land him a spot at UA. Everyone knew those of the child bearing class born from two alphas were rare and exquisite- for their beauty and their unique nature- and notably had powerful quirks- his father wouldn’t pass up that. 

The old bastard would probably have words to say about an omega aspiring to be a Pro Hero, but he’d probably just as easily figure that Bakugou Katsuki was young and impressionable and they had time to tinker him into the submissive, docile mate Shouto was supposed to have.

Glancing in the direction of the spitfire blonde, he couldn’t help but wince. His father was a pyromancer, but there was no way he could control the fire in the omega’s eyes. Shouto wasn’t sure anyone was able to.

“Yes! Of course, I’ll pass on the offer to them. And as for the fight, Aizawa-san assigned them both three weeks of detention, and I’m leaving it at that. You know how people get when they meet their fated ones- especially when they’re so young and hormonal,” Nezu breaks off to laugh then, a careless sound, one that belongs attached to a statement gushing over young love. Shouto inspects a bruise reddening on his arm from their earlier fight and wonders- once again- whether or not the principal truly understands that they had been going at each other fist to fist earlier- not mouth to mouth.

Nezu glances up towards him for a split second, and Shouto makes a great effort to school his expressions back to neutrality as he inwardly panics about what’s to come next. He had missed the initial reaction of his father, being busy trying to calm his alpha over the fact that an omega he had never met before in his life dared to have an alpha, and though he had been able to hear the gruff rumble of his father's voice on the other side of the line a few times- that disclosed nothing about his mood at the moment. If the principal handed the phone over to him now, he didn’t know what to expect- be it anger or satisfaction. He didn’t know if he’d be able to stomach either.

Fortunately, it never comes, because the offer is immediately denied. 

“Would you like to speak to- oh, alright. In that case, take care Endeavor!” He isn’t sure if he’s more unsettled or relieved that his father doesn’t want to talk to him. Normally that meant he was receiving the silent treatment or the old bastard simply had nothing to say to him- he wasn’t one to feed his children too much adulation. The whole call hadn’t been as bad as he thought it would be- likely because he missed all the shocking moments by bugging his omega, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth now that his father was aware . 

The principal smiled down at him as soon as he was finished, but said nothing before he was dialing up Bakugou's number. If he had heard the curses the omega spat out earlier or knew he had unintentionally (or maybe intentionally- he had a strange look in his little black eyes) introduced them to each other, he mentioned nothing of it. Shouto was on the verge of asking whether he’d get in more trouble for the vulgar words Bakugou spat out, but then the phone was picked up on one ring. The stiff silence that had glazed over the room moments before was disrupted.

“KATSUKI, YOU BRAT! I TOLD YOU NOT TO START SHIT ON THE FIRST DAMN DAY! I SWEAR TO FUCK, IF I HAVE TO GO UP THERE!” Nezu yanked the phone back away from his ear immediately, wincing in pain and mortification as the words rang through the room. Shouto sat stock still, frozen in surprise at the audacity and indignation buried within the tone as it barged through the other end of the line.

“Oh shut the fuck up, it’s wasn’t my fault this time,” Bakugou had the audacity to shoot him an angry scowl- as if he had been the one to swing first. Other than that he was the splitting image of peacefulness, the statement dropping from his lips with the fluidity of tree sap—slow and natural. He didn’t seem surprised in the slightest that the principal almost had his eardrums blown to uselessness by his own mother- he didn’t even seem scared, and even the two alphas in the room were hardly holding still and refraining from trembling. 

The next accusation was concerning at the base level, and Shouto couldn’t hold back his shiver this time. He had figured from how experienced his omega had seemed during the fight, how he knew to hit where it hurt and protect his own self where it did as well, that it wasn’t his first time around the carousel when it came to roughhousing and violence. Still- to have his mother have been expecting it- over something so minor as well- was concerning. “It wasn’t your fault last time either! What is it this time—you didn’t like the way someone looked at you or you didn’t like their face!?”

Bakugou’s glare narrowed on Shouto and it didn’t take him long to decide: “Both.”

“KATSUKI!”

“Ah- ah- Misses Bakugou,” Principal Nezu pleaded, frantically. Finally, Shouto could see something other than ominous mystery in his beady eyes- though he wasn’t quite sure fear was much of an upgrade from that. “Please calm down for a few moments and lower your tone.” This wasn’t an order, it was a beg, and Bakugou was smirking at it.

Mitsuki wasn’t as amused, and after a shuffling sound at the end of the line, a few curses and a harried cry, a new voice piped into the conversation. The omega’s amusement quickly dropped as the masculine voice tentatively rushed out, just as loudly as his mate had been, yet far more panicked: “I’m so so so sorry Principal Nezu, my wife she-” a crash. “Anyway, what was it that you needed?”

Occasionally, when his father was feeling particularly nasty after returning from a sizing with the Bakugous’, he’d rant about the other alpha of the family, the one famed for being more docile and submissive, the one with the omega genes in his blood that carried over to Bakugou Katsuki. In some way, the entire family wasn’t up to his father’s standards, being that they were entirely backwards according to societal standards. Bakugou Masaru was known to be more calm and less aggressive throughout the industry, if he were a single alpha, he probably would’ve been admired and sought after for such a characteristic. But since he was married to one of the most hostile ones in the industry, he failed in a lot of people’s eyes when it came to taking care of his pack and keeping them in place. 

With just a few words, it was clear Masaru was no contender to an alpha like his wife or even Todoroki’s father. And to have raised a pup with such a volatile personality and mated the epitome of alpha anger, it was slightly concerning that even now he had no ounce of authority and his tone and had had to, or it seemed like, wrestle the phone out of his wife’s hands. Shouto could tell Nezu was making a similar judgement by the way he paused and frowned- it was a strange expression on that of a mouse, but not more so any other he had bore thus far.

With a light laugh that sounded just partially too forced, the principal tentatively returned the phone back to his ear. In Shouto’s eyes, he received points for his bravery in doing so, knowing who was on the other end of the call. “Bakugou-san was in a bit of a fight-” Mitsuki had started to shout out again at that, so Nezu rushed out the rest quickly. “However, it truly was not entirely his fault!”

Masaru chuckled softly over the sound of his mate’s disbelieving cackles. “Sir, please don’t feel as though you need to cover for him, this isn’t anything new for us... ” he trailed off, the embarrassment seeping through his tone. The youngest Bakugou at his side made no attempts to defend himself, simply crossing his arms and huffing out a breath as he turned to face the far wall on the side of the room opposite of his fated one.

“Oh! No, truly!” Nezu cut in, hurriedly. “Normally, when people come into contact with their fated ones they feel a surge of emotions. Usually, the alpha’s is more aggressive and possessive while the omega takes a more sentimental and submissive route- it seems as though your son was the opposite and so he and his alpha’s moods clashed and-”

“I’m sorry,” Masaru interrupted, but it wasn’t him who continued on to ask: “Did you just say fated one ?” Instead it had been his wife, finally void of anger, but still hysterical as she uttered the question.

“Yes! It’s wonderful isn’t it! To have found it so young!” Nezu insisted, a smile frozen awkwardly onto his features as if he already expected the unconventional reaction to come.

“Oh, that poor alpha,” it was Mitsuki who cooed after a minute of tense silence.

“I’m still fucking here!” Bakugou spat back, immediately.

“More the reason to say it! Who the fuck did you ruin?!” she started, and the principal set the phone down once more in defeat, shutting his eyes as the omega sat back up and leaned towards it to shout. If he could’ve reached it, Shouto wasn’t completely certain he wouldn’t have picked it up and slammed it down a few times, condemning it to a pile of broken plastic and wires.

“No one special,” Bakugou sneered back at it, which was a statement he had never heard anywhere near his name before then. When he said his title, he said it as if it were a vile thing, as if it belonged to one of the League of Villain members. “Todoroki Shoujo.”

“Shouto,” he instinctively corrected, and then, since he had already made his presence known and felt awkward quipping something out and leaving it at that- “Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou.”

His omega’s eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth as if to snap at him again, but then Masaru let out a yelp and then had the more conventional reaction to his name, all the gushing and excitement galore. “Todoroki? As in the second ranked Pro Hero-”

“Yes, what fucking other Todoroki? Now are we finished? Can I get the fuck back to class?” Bakugou cut in, sharply, embarrassed almost. 

Shouto nearly snorted, but lost his breath a second after. At the height of the omega’s cheeks, an attractive blush had begun to glow at the sound of his father’s admiration, and it was the one time the alpha got to see him even close to conventionally omegan.

Bakugou Katsuki was an attractive omega. If he wasn’t so angry all the time, maybe smiled a little more or at least didn’t frown so deeply, he could’ve even been placed up in the ranks with the most sought after celebrities of their days, even so young. His unconventional heritage was clear. Shouto had briefly noted it in class before they went up against each other with fists, but now that he wasn’t facing him with such ire and was instead directing his irritation towards something else, it was obvious that the universe wasn’t entirely against him by condemning him to a mate horrible in and out. At least his omega was pretty to look at, that had to count for something.

“Oh yes,” Nezu piped up then, but Shouto was still silently distracted, so he paid the worried little mouse only half his mind until he heard the invitation. “Mr. Todoroki has invited you both and your son to his estate this Friday for dinner. He asks that you let him know if that’s alright with you sometime this week before then.” Once again, the principal was unconventionally cheery in a situation where dirges should’ve been sounding in place of his blithe tone. For the Splinter reincarnate had just solidified the fact that he would be dying young.

“Say no,” Bakugou deadpanned, and for once in their first few interactions Shouto couldn’t help but be relieved to hear his nasty tone. He couldn’t say something so blunt and negative to the family of his fated one- or even his own family for that matter- he was glad his omega was trigger happy with his explicities and swears. 

Unfortunately, he failed to recognize quick enough that so was Bakugou Mitsuki. “Shut the fuck up brat! And be grateful someone of such high ranking even wants to meet with your rude ass!” she snarled through the line, loud enough that her voice almost echoed off the walls. Nezu’s smile became more strained as his ears suffered yet another assail.

Bakugou Katsuki sat up to shout back and completely take out the principal’s old ears, but at that point Todoroki Shouto had stopped listening to mourn.

He could only dread dinner on Friday night if his home was going to occupy this irregular pack and all their shouting.

Chapter Text

&

After his mother hung up on Principal Nezu, and his father called back to apologize no less than four times, they were released to return to class. 

‘Returning to class’ took them around half an hour—that was, ten minutes of bickering in the hallway (or well, Katsuki was shouting and Todoroki snarking back a few bland words every now and then), six minutes of being chewed out by a random teacher for disrupting her students during a test, and fourteen minutes of racing across campus to get changed into their gym uniforms. 

And then to add a cherry on top of it all, once they finally caught up with everyone, their deadbeat of a teacher was already halfway done with his Quirk Apprehension Test. Marking them behind on the first damn day.  

To say the least, Katsuki didn’t hesitate to overdo his explosions during the few challenges they managed to make it for. Especially after Aizawa lazily droned on and on about he wasn’t giving them extra points to catch up since it was their own fault for being late. In between reminding them they were tied for last place. The Bakugou family didn’t do last place, and the omega made that well known one nearly nuclear discharge at a time.

The shock of his classmates wasn’t nearly as irritating as it was anticipated. Normally, omegas were primarily born with offensive quirks; like the pink cheeked girls’, which allowed her to float away from danger if need be or the girl with freakishly long earbuds who was good at listening. 

Because of his ‘unique’ heritage, he’d gotten a mix of his parents’ powerhouse quirks, but unfortunately neither of them had followed through to give him their caste gene as well. Instead it was apparent that he was stuck as the only omega in Class 1-A to have a defensive quirk. Not that that changed anything or would make him shy away from flaunting his power off. If anything, it only encouraged him to strain himself further.

The dull faced Half ‘n Half idiot wasn’t far behind in his own endeavors to catch up to the rest of their classmates either. Though initially it had appeared as though he was just as taken aback by the explosions as the rest of their class had been, he recovered fast from his state of surprise and was quick to join in. 

If Katsuki didn’t despise his very soul at the moment, he would’ve regarded the icy quirk with high respect as a power he’d be excited to test himself against. The user seemed to have a practiced control over it, firm yet artistic with each fluid gesticulation. 

It was only after he caught the kissy faces Racoon Eyes had been shooting at him that he realized how long he’d been admiring the alpha’s form. In order to avoid his initial instinct of blowing the pink skinned asshole skyhigh, he turned to Deku instead, which, in hindsight, only made him more frustrated. Because, despite him being gone for only half an hour at tops, the idiot had gone and broken his finger to throw a single damn ball.

“Really, Deku?” Katsuki sniped, shaking the idiot’s wrist. The alpha’s index finger had been beaten to an ugly purple and resembled ground beef at certain angles. If Inko could see it now, she’d have an aneurysm—but then again, the easily worried woman was always on the verge of some medical meltdown, so the thought wasn’t all too concerning. “You’re left alone for what, fifteen minutes? And this is the type of shit you pull?”

Deku let out an embarrassingly loud squeak as the omega jostled his injury around, face flushing in either agony or embarrassment as their fellow heroes-in-training turned to look. He withstood the pain for a few more seconds before snatching his hand back, shielding it with his opposite arm. 

Giving an attempt at a smile that ended up more of a grimace than anything, he mumbled something along the lines of, “I couldn’t come in last, Kacchan, you know how hard I worked.” 

Despite the slight quiver in his tone, his eyes were focused and unyielding, emeralds unwilling to crack under pressure. Beneath the intensity of his gaze, his lips had tightened slightly, and when he spoke, Katsuki could make out the caustic canines that had grown in sometime during puberty when he wasn’t looking. He looked more determined than the blonde had ever seen him, more sure of himself than he knew he could be.

But Katsuki actually didn’t know. 

Ever since a couple months ago, since they started training for UA, since Deku’s quirk suddenly started to manifest out of thin air, the damn nerd had become suspiciously more quiet around quirk discussions. At Friday dinners, when his entire family would pack themselves into Inko’s small kitchen and shove and swat at each other to reach whatever she decided to bless them with that night, Deku would normally babble on and on about whatever hero he had passed by in town that day when his dad politely asked how’s it going, son? It wasn’t until recently that he’d respond like a normal human being with a simple fine, how are you? instead of blabbing their ears off and spoiling their appetites.

His mom had once called it character development, proudly stating that he had finally grown out of his fanboy phase and matured into a fine young man. Auntie Inko had cried in joy at that, blubbering out dozens of really? s and you think so? s in disbelief. His father would chuckle softly and pat Deku on the back. Katsuki would catch a shifty green gaze across the table and narrow his eyes.

Deku getting over his hero obsession was around as likely as hell freezing over. Katsuki wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that, not when the creep still added AllMight Ties to his dream wedding Pinterest board and nearly hyperventilated himself to a coffin when they found out the said symbol of peace would be teaching them.

It was almost ironic—that he was ‘uninterested’ now that he had finally developed his powers. Back when he was diagnosed quirkless, he was unabashedly a Pro-Hero fanatic, shoving his nose into whoever’s conversation whenever anything related to heroics was brought up. Katsuki could distinctly recall avoiding him in the junior high hallways for that very reason—to hell if he was going to tarnish his reputation by getting caught talking to the biggest fanboy in their entire region. 

The idiot couldn’t shut up about the subject for 73 seconds—their entire grade knew that for a fact because they had timed him on several occasions—so it was overly suspicious when he came to school one day and acted as though heroes were non-existent, ever since he finally got his own quirk, ever since the sludge—

He has me. He has me. He’s—

“Kacchan?” Deku’s voice is small, frail, so much like it was before presentation, before stupid dynamics, that Katsuki almost whines. His eyes are less emeralds now than they are a soft field of grass, and the determined glint in them was replaced with one of concern. Katsuki tried to inconspicuously loosen his fists.

“Calm down, little omega.”

The omega shook his head, shoving Deku aside roughly. “If you come out last, I’m blowing you to hell after this,” he sneered, knowing the bite in his tone was too sharp by the way the alpha’s nostrils flared and his forestry scent became a tad more smokey. He didn’t have it in him to care much, even though deep down he knew he should. 

He should be more suspicious of how the idiot’s quirk oh so conveniently appeared right when he needed it, of why Deku was so tight lipped about his training and wouldn’t even spar with him, of why it took breaking his finger to release the full force of his power. But thinking of that meant thinking of him and the last thing Katsuki needed was to throw up in the middle of the Quirk Apprehension Test he was already losing. The last thing he needed was to look weak in front of all these extras when he’d already seen the shortest damn kid in the class sniff loudly by him twice .

“Your scent—“ Deku started, but his self preservation instincts seemed to kick in at the last second and he dropped the topic entirely, instead turning back to watch as the blonde french bitch shot sparkly lights from his navel. It was a smart move. Last time Deku tried to analyze his scent, two years ago when he was spending the night for the release of a new AllMight documentary, he was promptly chucked out of the second story window. Luck was his only hero then when it was his mother who found him first instead of Katsuki with his hands blazing and ready to fire.

After a minute of tense silence, in which he shivered twice as if remembering that painful sleepover, the dumbass promised, “I won’t come in last.”

“You better fucking not,” Katsuki snarked immediately, but his words were more tired than angry, and by the looks of it, Deku was more encouraged then intimidated. He should’ve threatened in more detail.

He ended up coming out last, and wrestling Katsuki in the sandpit at the park by their house later. But he didn’t get expelled. 

All in all, the omega saw it as a successful day mostly in that sense—neither of them had gotten kicked out of UA yet and he hadn’t murdered a certain fated one yet.

&

“You’re dressing up?” Deku’s voice was pleased, an endearing whine in his words that had Katsuki twitching with the desire to throw something across the room at him. The three thousand paged textbook on his desk for instance. 

“You make it sound like I want to, asshole,” he sneered back, stuffing the tail ends of his white button up into the straight slacks his mother had shoved into his hands a day ago. 

When Mitsuki first told him that she expected him to look presentable at the dinner, he rolled his eyes and thought nothing of it. She’d been informing him of that exact expectation since he was five, and every single day of his life he walked out the door in baggy pants and ruffled shirts, stomping over the Bakugou Fashion Inc reputation in the process. 

It wasn’t until she refused to let him out of the house his third morning attending UA, standing in way of the door with her arms crossed over her chest and a vindictive smile that could send grown alphas scampering away in fear, that he finally understood how serious she was this time. He missed his train and had to put up with her nagging and threats all the way to campus. Todoroki Shoujo nearly lost his life that day during one of the exercises when Katsuki ‘miscalculated’ a throw and nearly sent a baseball sailing through his skull.

When he got home that night, twelve different shaded blazers were strewn across his sheets. He blew them up much to the infuriation of his mother, but for his father’s sake—who had taken to cowering in the bathroom throughout their conversation screeching match—had finally agreed on wearing a casual outfit they paid him 500 yen to wear at a fashion week once.

Bending his knee against the tighter-than-necessary black fabric, it dawned on him that he’d been scammed back then. Pocket change for public embarrassment? He was such a cheap kid.

Deku mumbled something he couldn’t make out behind him, but he tended to do that a lot, so Katsuki didn’t pay him much attention until he stepped back to the mirror for a quick once over and caught his gaze. Raising an eyebrow, he took in the sight of the flushed cheeks and wide eyes that immediately averted once caught.

“You were staring at my ass,” Katsuki stated, flatly.

Deku let out a loud squeak and a round of nervous laughter. “N-no? Kacchan, what? I wouldn’t—I couldn’t—I mean, it was just in the direction I was looking in. I wasn’t looking at you—at your—“

Katsuki scoffed, turning back to his reflection and cuffing his sleeves at the same motion. He wanted to say he looked bad, to head to the Todoroki manner looking entirely unappealing, but the image before him was a farcry from that and his mother would have his head if he already looked like a mess before getting to the ‘estate’ (because of course that asshole lived on a fucking estate). His best bet was spilling whatever food they served all over himself and smacking loudly. 

Or just being himself—alphas tended to dislike him anyway.

“You look good,” Deku piped up softly after a silent few seconds, after he managed to catch his breath and calm himself down a little. 

Then, as if he sensed that Katsuki was about to attempt to further press on the topic of why exactly he had been staring at his ass, he was quick to make his next move. The statement was frantic, because the omega imagined the last thing he wanted to admit was that his alpha hormones were tingling as Auntie Inko oh-so-embarrassingly put it, as he blurted out, “Todoroki-san will—“

“Deku,” Katsuki warned, shooting a sharp glare over his shoulder. 

All week the damn nerd had been trying to start a conversation about anything he could regarding the fated one, from his weirdass hair to his quirk. He’d even tried going up to Half ‘n Half himself when the omega was unresponsive, trying a different angle to get them connected somehow and stifle the heated tension that had plagued the class since the first time they squared off fist to fist. The only thing Deku had achieved so far in his endeavors was either making Todoroki Shouto’s sharp minty scent spike up and nearly losing his life to the sharp end of Katsuki’s lucky pencil.

Predictably, like the rest of their respective families, the green haired idiot saw the whole situation as a blessing in disguise. He did all he could to try and force amends between them—it was getting unbearable and it had only been five days. 

Rather than focus on how they were finally on the path to becoming part of the next generation of pro heroes, he refused to shut up about how lucky the omega was to find his fated one so early in life and tried every half hour to convince him to at least give the bastard a fair shot. 

Katsuki was at his breaking point. He understood Deku just wanted to see him happy, in his own discombobulated, alpha thinking type of way. And that was far better than the rest of his aunts and cousins who openly raved about how great it was for him to have found his alpha so young, how maybe he’d finally be tamed . But hearing it constantly—that he had to give Todoroki Shoujo a chance because they were fated ones, as if Todoroki Shoujo deserved a chance with him merely for that, as if he should be more focused on this than the start of the damn hero career he’d been working towards his entire life, was exhausting.

“Kacchan—”

Bakugou slams the door shut on his way out.

^^

Dropping her head into her hands, Fuyumi let out a muffled half groan, half sob; her seventy-seventh of the night if Natsuo hadn’t miscounted. For the past five hours she’d been holed up in the kitchen, making a mess of the floor and the walls and, somehow, the ceiling as she fretted over the dozens of dishes and pans spread out around her. 

The alpha clucked his tongue, approaching from behind his sister to take a look at the gleaming roasts and the glistening soups. Everything looked good, it normally did, this was his sister cooking after all, but knowing their family, ‘good’ just wasn’t enough.

“It’s not good enough!” she mirrored his thoughts, threading her fingers through her hair as she stared down in horror at the curry she had just finished.

Promptly, Natsuo stuck his finger in it and licked, much to her outrage. As she squeaked out in irritation, he found, as anticipated, it was fine. He didn’t like curry of any kind much, so he couldn’t claim it was his favorite, but it wasn’t within a ten mile radius of bad and he wouldn’t mind swallowing down a few bowls.

Telling her as much would only result in a long rant about the correct texture of dishes he didn’t even know the names of, and how she had boiled something for a few seconds longer than some website she was subscribed to deemed necessary, so he just elected on saying: “If you’re that nervous about it, why don’t you just let the maids handle dinner.“ 

It was the wrong thing to say. Her face had been pale before when he had stuck his finger into her dish, but now she was practically a ghost, as if him offering up such an idea had affronted her so much she wound up dead in an instant.

“I’m the omega of the house!” she announced, almost instinctively, and Natsuo couldn’t help but flinch back slightly.

Ever since their mother left them to him , an alpha who hardly knew how a stove functioned despite being a pyromancer, Fuyumi had said those words often, and proudly. At first she had been distressed as they all had been, but her duty as one of the child bearing dynamic had pushed her past the tragedy, and she found her place back in the home. Or rather, forced it--Natsuo had shoved too many loaves of burnt toast down his throat for her transition to Head Omega of the house to be considered a relatively easy one. “It’s my job to make sure my little brother’s mate is welcome! And he will be welcomed--so help me if it takes me a hundred times over to make this right!”

“Fated one,” Natsuo corrected. He was ignored promptly in favor of her self imposed responsibility and a saucepan.

Sighing, he draped himself back over the small sliver of room on the counter not currently overflowing with meats and silverware. Despite Shouto’s clear discomfort with the whole situation, she was taking the whole idea of his soulmate in stride; moreso in favor of ignoring the kid’s reluctance whenever it came to telling them anything about the mystery omega than actually trying to figure out what was wrong.

Natsuo couldn’t find it in himself to judge her too hard for doing so, even if he didn’t entirely understand. Technically, she’d found her fated one last spring, a man who was easily paid off by their father when he came to the realization that he didn’t have an impressive quirk or wealth to provide them with. The media would learn she’d met her fated one in late July four years from now--some popular co-worker of their fathers. Fuyumi claimed she couldn’t care less that she didn’t know the woman; she was only worried about what her three alpha would do when she was no longer there to watch over them.

He had half the mind to remind her that Shouto would be in his late teens four years from now and their father was a grown ass man. They didn’t exactly need to be coddled over. But then he remembered how he and said brother nearly burned down the entire house with the microwave the other day and the words died in his throat.

Even still, judging by the short snippets of what Shouto did tell them of his fated one and what Natsuo had looked up online, Bakugou Katsuki didn’t exactly seem like the type who’d willingly mother them once Fuyumi left with her mate. And Shouto seemed more disgruntled than enamored by him, so there was no need to jump the gun and consider them life partners already.

Then again, with how their father was acting, maybe she was simply being realistic. He treated their fating was a successful business transaction, talking about the omega as if he was perfect for Shouto. Purely because his quirk was apparently strong and his parents were those famous fashion designers. 

It seemed like both Fuyumi and his father were entirely blind to the small factor that Shouto came home with a black eye the same day he sat down and admitted to meeting his fated one with a conflicted look in his eyes. He hadn’t even come down for dinner that night--not that their dearest dad was there to notice, but his sister had seen full and well and chalked it up as him simply not being hungry. She’d been serving cold soba that night. The Todoroki family may disagree on a lot, but they all are similar in the fact that they’re always hungry for soba.

“Todoroki-sama,” came a low baritone from down the hall. Natsuo raised his eyes instinctively upon being addressed, knowing the call was for him by the tone alone. Whenever the maids or butlers wanted Fuyumi, they never addressed her so formally. Their father didn’t require it for one thing, but even if he had, their staff was full of mostly beta and alpha who wouldn’t drop themselves to the level of calling an omega anything more than a docile ‘chan’ or respectful, but notably equal, ‘san.’ Without having to be acknowledged, the staff member continued. “We’ve been wired by the gardeners. The Bakugous have reached the entrance of the estate.”

A loud shatter had Natsuo whipping his head around immediately to find his sister on her knees, a dark brown liquid seeping through her apron as she hissed out in pain. The saucepan that had been in her hand was tipped over on the ground at her side, no doubt dented--it was fragile but fine metal. “They’re early!” she exclaimed, frantically, before he could so much as get a word out to ask whether or not she was okay. “Natsuo, go get Shouto--make sure he’s presentable. Father too!”

Already she was up again, her hands slightly shaky as she reached for the pan. The alpha made the move to help her, but was quickly swatted away with a haphazard aim and a sharp glare. “ Natsuo , now!”

That was all the prompting he needed. Thoughts discarded, he raced down the hall to make sure everyone was presentable for their meeting with the Bakugous. Fuyumi would have their throats if they came off as anything less than picture perfect.

Little did he know at the time, anything was picture perfect in comparison to their guests.

Chapter Text

()

Todoroki Shouto was presentable.

As in he was present at the scene.

Of course, he didn’t look like a slob—he read in a magazine once that he was hardly capable of doing so—but he still fell far flat in comparison to Fuyumi’s pearls and heels and his father’s nice wine red dress shirt. If Natsuo had opted on keeping on the blazer their sister had thrown over his shoulders, maybe then he could be considered under-dressed; but since his older brother had dutifully shrugged it off before the butlers could get the door open, he figured his khaki trousers and polo shirt were fine.

Until he saw the Bakugous.

It had to be some sort of cruel joke. The family was supposed to be famous for their innovation in the fashion industry. They were supposed to be the fashion designers . Not the models .

Since Shouto had a clear image of what he expected Mitsuki to look like based on the accounts of his father, he was entirely taken aback by the jaw dropping woman before him. To be fair, his father had admitted that she could be beautiful. But in all the stories he told, she’d been scowling like an ‘evil, old wretch’ and looked as though she was plotting your murder or in the midsts of commiting a felony at any given second. Shouto had no way of being prepared for the way her lips curled upwards rather than shriveled up in disgust.

Her eyes were the same shade as Bakugou’s; however, the hostility he normally found when he looked up mid class to match the glare was missing. That made the color more appealing than he cared to admit. Her blonde hair was knotted into a stylish chignon, revealing the diamonds and gold that dripped from her ears. On her neck, a matching necklace to the jewelry hung, the gems stopping just above the low cleavage of her emerald dress. 

Masaru was shorter than Mitsuki, but not enough that the majority couldn’t be claimed by her golden heels. Where it was clear their son got his eyes, hair and cheekbones from his mother, it was just as clear where he got the slight softness to his features and upturn of his nose from his father. Hazel eyes crinkled and dimples deepened in a way that could only be described as welcoming, making it known that this was the kindest Bakugou.

It was an interesting sight to see such a neighborly man in between the two intimidating beings at his sides, but Shouto didn’t inspect him long before his attention was swept away and choke held by his son.

Sure, he knew his fated one was pretty. He wasn’t blind to the perfect slopes and edges of Bakugou Katsuki’s face. But watching him press his lips together tightly while thinking over a problem in class or smirk haughtily over at Midoriya were mere glimpses at just how attractive he was now. 

A single, long, golden earring hung from his left ear; his hair was mussed yet perfect all the same; the top three buttons of his shirt were left open to reveal sharp collarbones. Although what he was wearing was nowhere near the style ridden within the curves of Mitsuki’s dress and the embroidery carefully crafted onto his father’s breast pocket, the simple black slacks and button up were far beyond elegant on him . He was gorgeous. He was ethereal. He was—

Staring at Shouto’s very bare kneecaps and cringing.

“You wear khaki?” he asked, with clear disdain. 

Natsuo choked down a laugh. Shouto felt faint. 

Mitsuki’s hand slammed into the back of her son’s head in time with her cheery statement of: “Thank you for having us!”

()

Dinner with the Todorokis’ was normally a silent affair. 

It wasn’t always that way. Back when their mother was still around to fill the kitchen with the sweet aroma of cookies and pies, and Touya was still there to throw the dining room into fits of laughter and lighthearted banter, mealtimes were characterized by noise. Shouto could only recall it faintly now, with so many years standing between him and the memories, but there was a time when the entire family would pile into a room for a good hour or few and just enjoy each other’s company. 

Like a normal pack.

He didn’t remember it enough to miss it. 

For as long as he’d been aware, their meals were short and to the point. Sometimes his father would be there—his presence bearing down on the room like an extra layer of gravity—but most of the time he’d be out trying to best the Number One Hero—his missing presence adding onto the void that were the two ever-empty seats. Fuyumi made it a point not to skip any meals, to try to engage in conversation and imitate something that once was and never would be again. Natsuo didn’t bother, taking his meals to his rooms sometimes, but most of the times when the extra layer of gravity was too much for him to bear.

A majority of Fuyumi’s attempts to chat with Shouto fell flat. In general, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but normally he could at least fumble his way through some chatter. (His halfhearted attempts to humor Momo’s demands by making friends were evident of that). With his sister, as dear as she was to him, he could hardly manage a few words over some casserole recipe or whatever alpha heartthrob was hitting the big screens before his thoughts trailed off. 

His father and Natsuo were just as bad—too often, Fuyumi’s chatter would trail off unended, as she came to a solemn realization that none of the alphas at the table were interested in how attractive Karube was in Alice in Borderland or how she had ‘went a little crazy and added some mushrooms to their lasagna.’ 

So, dinner at their estate was silent for the most part.

They had guests occasionally. 

Once a blue moon, Usagiyama Rumi would hop on by at the request of Fuyumi. It was very evident that she didn’t like doing so much—the quiet of the table unnerving as big a loud mouth as herself—but she forced her way through long stretches of meals with them and tried to fit herself into their little broken pack (though, her definition of ‘fit’ was more of a jamming her way in and then stomping herself secure). Nonetheless, it was a sweet thing to do for her future omega, when they weren’t even fated ones to begin with. Plus, she pissed off their father, and that was always a positive in any circumstance that didn’t end with his father’s familiar bellow of “SHOUTOOO” across the grounds. 

Natsuo had college friends who visited when said father wasn’t around. They stayed far past their welcome and retreated to his room to eat, leaving a mess of the house in their wake that Fuyumi would throw a fit over. Shouto figured that couldn’t really count as them joining him and his sister for a meal, but it was at least slightly more noisy when they were around with Hatsume Miku playing at max volume just a few rooms over. Whether that was enjoyable or not, he was still trying to decide--but, Rolling Girl was finally starting to grow on him in the recent months, so that had to be a good omen.

There were business associates of his father too, an occasional visit from a far off relative, Momo used to come more often before she presented—but no matter the guest, the situation never changed. They ate in relative silence and didn’t disturb one another. No one spoke for longer than it took to ask someone to pass the salt, and everyone swallowed down their meals as fast as they could to escape the something that hung between them, unaddressed as long as Touya and mother’s seats had been empty. 

The Bakugous didn’t respect this sentiment from the get go.

Fuyumi had slaved away for hours trying to set the table up to exact calculations. It had taken her two whole hours to shift the silverware at the angle she wanted (90.67°) and then to pour the exact same measure of water into each glass (15.83 ounces). It had taken her the whole night to decide on the exact shade of beige she wanted for the napkins (light taupe) and what design she wanted on the plates (the cherry blossoms). It had taken her all afternoon to decide on the music to play (soft piano) and what the seating order should be (Todorokis on the left and Bakugous the right. Omegas at the ends—across from each other, Head Alphas in the center. The way they did it in her old shoujo anime, even though she wouldn’t admit it).

All of it was for naught when Bakugou Katsuki plopped down next to his sister on the wrong side of the table and Mitsuki opened her mouth.

“Look at that tofu!” Mitsuki exclaimed, breaking through the solid quiet no one had ever dared to penetrate before with the grace of an elephant in a china shop. Fuyumi’s face contorted through a slew of emotions as she tried to decide on what to present, from charmed at the overzealous compliment to disgruntled by the god's awful table manners the woman’s elbows on the table displayed. In the end, Shouto never caught which expression she’d settled on, refocusing on the alpha across from him when she spoke again instead. With three pieces stuffed in her mouth, she demanded loudly: “Whacanmaikats?” 

Shouto assumed it was impossible to interpret. For a brief moment, he assumed she’d switched languages and spent a solid minute trying to figure out whether it sounded more French or Russian. It turned out to be neither when Bakugou responded absentmindedly as he reached for a shrimp tempura: “Why can’t you make it like that, hag . And don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

“Oi, you little shit, don’t talk to me that way! I’ll chew the way I fucking want and you just sit and watch because I’m your goddamn mother--”

“That’s fucking disgusting--stop, no one wants to see your-- hag! ”

“Like a bird! Come here, Kats! I’ll regurgitate--” 

“Get the fuck away from me, you fucking freak!”

“My love, Kats--please,” Masaru said, around a mouthful of tea, glancing at the way his wife had lunged across the table--sending Fuyumi’s cutlery to the floor--and grappled at her son, with solemn disinterest. As if that was a normal thing to do within a minute of sitting down at a dinner party. He spared their hosts an apologetic glance, lying through his teeth when he said, over the sound of their shouting: “They aren’t normally like this.”

Shouto didn’t have to turn and face Fuyumi to see the barely contained look of distraught crossing over her features as she came face to face with the ‘perfect, little omega’ she’d been preparing for all week. His father had gone entirely still, hand still outstretched to the salt shaker, as though he had the audacity to be surprised about who he invited to dinner when he knew them best. Shouto picked up his drink to hide the twitch of his lips at the sight of the bastard’s clear displeasure. Serves him right for setting this up in the first place.  

There was a lilt of glee in Natsuo’s tone when he spoke, interrupting Mitsuki’s attempts to grab her son across the table and do… whatever it was she intended to do with the mouthful of rice she was violently chewing on. “Well, Fuyumi is a great chef,” he offered up, flashing a broad smile. He tended to be overly polite and chatty with guests that made their father go all red and irritated. It went without saying that he was a huge fanboy of Miruko and Hawks. “I swear she was going to kill me earlier when I--what did I do again?”

It took Fuyumi a second to blink out of her stupor from where she had been watching Mitsuki dust off her dress and straighten her posture like she’d just come back from a leisure walk rather than rolled around on their table. Somehow the alpha managed not to get a single speck of food on her outfit, no matter that she’d just had her chest buried in the mapo tofu. Shouto had just begun to conspire that it had to do with a secret quirk of hers or a fashion industry secret, when his sister finally regained her senses. 

“He tried adding little sausage bits to my curry,” the omega said, dismissively, as though she knew no one at the table would understand what the big deal was. 

Normally, no one would. If Usagiyama were here, she would try to lead her on in a conversation for a little while, half heartedly listening to her complain about the reason adding sausage to her curry was against every rule in the Cook Book of Life, all in the name of love (or rather, all in the name of ‘mating for convenience’). One of their father’s business associates would probably make the mistake of trying to relate by talking about how their omega loved to bake, and then would get grilled on the difference between cooking and baking for a half hour. Momo would offer up some fact or statistic she’d picked up somewhere and confuse Fuyumi into silence. But no one would get it, normally.

There was nothing normal about this situation. 

“He did what to your curry?” Bakugou Katsuki demanded, as he smoothed out his shirt—that wasn’t even wrinkled in hindsight (maybe it was a gene). His striking red eyes had narrowed slightly and his lips curled into a scowl, as if the whole prospect of mini sausages in the sauce had personally offended him.

Fuyumi had mirrored the look exactly earlier when she walked around with a saucepan in her hand and demanded to know who had messed with her curry.

Bakugou Katsuki got it .

“He—“ Fuyumi sounded just as surprised as he felt, though her shock was quickly taken over by relief as she began to go into detail about the situation, explaining it as if it were a grave crime committed against her. “It was around 2:07 p.m. when I turned away for a minute and he added little sausages behind my back—the ones that I was going to use as appetizers—“

“Figured you were going to have a meat tray,” Bakugou admitted, plucking a piece of cheese from his plate and continuing on to compliment his sister's cheese like it was normal . “Your brie is cut fucking perfectly.”

Fuyumi’s face tinted pink, a small smile playing at her lips as if this was normal . She didn’t even seem to mind his language, and just last week she tore into a preteen at a restaurant for saying ‘damn’ in her vicinit.  “I—thank you… Anyway, I had to change the whole recipe to work with the—“

Shouto stopped listening then. Because he normally tuned out instinctively as soon as his sister really got into her recipe/coupon vents, but also because the way Bakugou Katsuki— Bakugou Katsuki —was hanging on to every word and nodding along with actual interest in what Fuyumi was saying, was beginning to unnerve him. 

That was only a few minutes into the dinner.

It only got worse from there.

Natsuo made a comment under his breath that Shouto couldn’t hear, and likely wasn’t meant to, judging by the ugly laugh Mitsuki let out in response to it. It spurred a loud conversation between them about whatever innuendo it was that they were shouting back and forth over. After ten minutes of watching them going at it, he realized with oncoming dread that they too, got each other . Enough so that Natsuo was willing to give up his Make-Dinners-With-Dad-Awkwardly-Silent Policy (MDWDAS for short) to talk with her. There weren’t many people who could make Natsuo give up that.

With brother and Mrs. Bakugou joking on one side, and his fated one and his sister exchanging chopping techniques on his other, having his dad and Bakugou Masaru get along would’ve been the end of the world as he knew it. Bakugou Katsuki getting along with his sister was more than enough to set him on edge, but his father and the kind, gentle other alpha talking the familiar way Mitsuki was with his brother now, would’ve sent him completely over it.

When he turned to find the duo sitting in awkward silence, dully commenting on the weather every other ten minutes, the relief was enough to get him through the rest of the dinner without losing his mind or demanding to know what Twilight Zone they’d been thrown into at some point. 

It was enough to assuage him enough that the weight of the situation finally hit him.

Dinner with the Todoroki’s was normally a silent affair. 

Tonight, laughter rang through the air every other minute and conversation went without end. 

Fuyumi was glowing and Natsuo smiled easily—as if it was their mother who was talking through a recipe with her, and their brother who was trading snide remarks with him. It was as if they hadn’t gone through decades of silence, as if the thick tension that etched itself into every crook and cranny of the dining room before had been dusted out completely.

Mitsuki had a gorgeous grin. Her red eyes flashed like rubies along to the rhythm of her cackles and deep trenches of dimples never once faded as she spoke to Natsuo. 

And her son.

Shouto’s chest tightened with something he couldn’t place as he studied the way the omega chewed on his bottom lip between words and narrowed his eyes in concentration every now and then. He had to tear his gaze away when he would nod in excitement after Fuyumi said something particularly interesting or would gesticulate wildly when he explained something to her.  

Finding something else to focus on, to keep himself from stealing glances at his asshole of a classmate who was unfairly attractive, became a bigger problem than anticipated. 

After Bakugou’s lips twisted into an agreeable smile (Shouto didn’t even know his lips could do that ) at something his sister said about some recipe, Shouto made the mistake of turning his attention to said sister. Thankfully, his fated one had been too invested in the conversation to notice the teasing smirk and motions she was making at him. Shouto never made the same mistake twice.

But he would’ve preferred to then. Fuyumi’s lighthearted motions were the better option when placed up against Natsuo snickering as he told the mother of his fated one that he’d just been staring at her son. He understood the reason paranoia was settling over his shoulders when he was met with their twin looks of callous mirth. They were a pair made in hell.

He was in the midst of pointedly staring down at his glass of tea, studying ice cubes because he wasn’t about to try to attempt distracting himself with the father of his fated one or his own father , when the core of his little dilemma got up and left for the kitchens without a backwards glance with Mitsuki, Natsuo and his sister.

Later, Fuyumi would tell him she had wanted to show Bakugou her plate collection with shifting eyes and a pink tinted face, and Natsuo would tell him what had been actually going on under his breath. But even knowing the truth, he couldn’t be mad at his sister. She followed their father’s order’s blindly—hoping to appease him, to be a good omega . It’d been drilled into her since birth to follow every one of his cues and demands, whether it be that she drops out of high school midway for Finishing School or marry a stranger. 

Or clear the table so the alpha could have a talk . Leave Bakugou Masaru because he’s weaker willed.

At the time, he didn’t recognize their sudden departure as anything but a blessing from a few pitying Gods before it was too late. 

By the time he did finally come to understand it had been intentional, his father had already begun speaking.

“So, U.A.,” his father began, setting the tone of their conversation with two simple words. 

Shouto would’ve preferred trying not to openly stare at Bakugou Katsuki’s smirk for the rest of the night. Hell, he would’ve preferred submerging his whole face in boiling water to complete his scar, to this. 

Masaru openly tensed, pausing where he had begun to lift a piece of tofu to his mouth. It had slipped from his chopsticks and hit his plate by the time he finally managed to come up with a teligable response. “U.A.,” he agreed curtly, catching the cube between his utensils once more and trying again. Playing a poor attempt at nonchalant. “Great school, but the tuition is a nightmare. You like it so far, Shouto-kun?”

“Sure,” Shouto said immediately, hoping the bare minimum of his responses would make the conversation end faster.

It didn’t.

His father was speaking before he even managed to get the last sound out. “I was surprised there were so many omegas in 1-A this year.” There were only three , but one would’ve been a lot to the Todoroki Head Alpha. “You don’t see many out on the field.”

Masaru chewed on the tofu slowly, and Shouto was surprised to see that his eyes didn’t drop when matched with Todoroki Enji’s own icy blue. There weren’t many who could match a stare as cold as his, and honestly, the seemingly soft man before him now didn’t seem like he’d be the type to stand it. “Times are changing,” was all he offered, sitting a little straighter. 

His father’s expression finally waned into something more genuine—his eyebrows tilting downwards with the corners of his lips. “Finishing School just seems like a better option for omegas. Less dangerous, less… aggressive.”

“You’re suggesting my son should go to finishing school,” Bakugou Masaru cut to the chase, his voice a deadpan. Instantaneously, the emotion was gone from his face, and in its place was a void of anything—a poker face that couldn’t be rivaled by many.

His father didn't even look ashamed of himself as he nodded curtly. “He’s of age for it. And since he is my son’s omega , a future Todoroki omega, I want the best education for him, naturally.”

Bakugou Masaru’s expressionless facade didn't falter. He didn’t even flinch at another alpha claiming his omega as their own. 

Instead, he turned to Shouto and asked, still void of emotion: “You think my son should go to finishing school?”

The denial was out of Shouto’s mouth before he could think of the consequences. 

“That’s Bakugou-san’s decision.”

After, when he saw his father’s eyes flash and his fists tightened, he was surprised to find not an ounce of regret washing over him.

Who was he to decide Bakugou Katsuki—who was top in their entrance exams despite the fact that those exams were made to be particularly difficult for and biased against omegas, who pushed himself to a worrying degree during their training, who talked about saving people and being a pro as if it was a given at some point in his future—would give up U.A.

He thought the dude was an asshole, sure. And maybe it would’ve been a bit satisfying to watch him cause aneurysms every other corridor at Fuyumi’s old Finishing School. But, even knowing him for so little time, anyone could tell that there was no one who worked harder for their dream of being a Pro more than Bakugou Katsuki. Dick or not, Shouto couldn’t see him as anything but a future hero. Definitely not a doddering housewife, at the least.

On a more important note, he didn’t even think he would mate Bakugou Katsuki. The omega made it very clear that he hated him with a burning passion consistently throughout their knowledge of each other. And Shouto had never quite disliked someone the way he disliked Bakugou Katsuki.

Them mating was a disaster waiting to happen. No matter if Bakugou Katsuki looked nice when he smiled in a non-pointy, threatening your life kind of way, or made his sister preen in a way he hadn't seen her do in years. Or the way he looked really nice in a button up and had teeth that practically sparkled under the kitchen lights ot--

Bakugou Masaru’s eyes crinkled, but before Shouto could question it, he had turned back to a very aggravated Todoroki Enji. 

“U.A. is a state of the art facility—I don’t think there’s anything more deserving of the title ‘best’ than it,” he pointed out, a kind lilt to his voice as if he hadn’t been staring down the Number One hero just a moment prior.

The Number One Hero in question was seconds from setting off the fire alarm as he offered back a tight smile. “This conversation isn’t over,” he said, though Bakugou Masaru had already begun chirping about an upcoming banquet they needed to do a fitting for—ending the conversation.

As his father’s face heated its way to an eggplant purple shade, Todoroki Shouto came to the decision that Masaru was his favorite Bakugou.

Chapter Text

&

It’s only after Katsuki gets home—after he’s slammed his door on his parents, after he’s peeled his legs out of his dress pants, after he’s tucked Fuyumi’s mapo tofu recipe into a safe place—that he flops down onto his bed and screams into his pillows.

He didn’t hate the Todoroki pack . 

And it terrifies him.

For the rest of the week, his dreams alternate between a suffocating green goo and golden eyes. He doesn’t get much rest at all.

&

Bakugou Katsuki wanted to spend the rest of his week stressing over the fact that he found his mother and Todoroki Natsuo tipping beers and watching Hell’s Kitchen in his living room not even two full days after their first meeting, but a more pressing issue introduced itself before then. 

It comes boxed in red, white and blue and exclaiming “ I am here! ” all too loudly for the headache the omega’s had harboring the entire morning.

With students like Kaminari Denki (and, admittedly, himself ) not knowing the definition of an inside voice, and the laughter of Ashido Mina rivaling the powers of Present Mic, Class 1-A was already loud on a normal day. Constant complaints like please refrain from letting Aoyama practice opera during school hours and remind Jirou Kyouka that earbuds exist and are advisable (and that MCR is so last decade) were being emailed to an exasperated Aizawa on a daily basis. Six of their Kahoot games had been interrupted by a disgruntled teacher from somewhere down the hall who rushed over in concern to make sure that ‘ no, no one is dying, Dark Shadow just starts squawking like a harpy giving birth whenever Tokoyami drops off the leaderboard’ . Only two weeks into the semester they had been registered as one of the most obnoxious classes in UA history, solely because they couldn’t shut the fuck up.

That notion paired with the fact that they had finally received their hero gear just an hour ago equated to optimal suffering for anyone who had only gotten around two hours and thirty-seven minutes of sleep the night before. Namely—

“Bakugou- chan !” Raccoon Eyes exclaimed, her high voice stabbing straight into the brunt of his headache. The pink-skinned girl, in her abomination of a hero suit (Tie-Die was so early 2000’s and that color scheme was beyond saving ( seriously, were the manufacturers color blind? )), had been parading around the room trading animated compliments with each and every classmate she got her hands on. Busy wincing in pain, Katsuki wasn’t fast enough to spat out a quick fuck off before she was bounding up to him and continuing her tirade of terror. “That’s such a daring costume for an omega! With that much skin showing, you’re making me sweat!”

Beyond irked already, the omega could’ve sent her sky high the moment she opened her mouth. Purple Balls had already set him on edge earlier when he first entered the room—the man-child had let out a loud squeak and turned magenta immediately, blubbering something about wet dreams and skin smooth like (that was all he got out before Bakugou’s fist was jammed into his trachea). Raccoon Eyes blabbering about how sexy his costume was, when Shark Week was standing shirtless in a muzzle only a few feet away from them, could’ve been enough to send him over.

Of course, an omega dressed in anything that revealed even a sliver of skin was enough to warrant a public freakout and not-so-discreet ogling. Of course, a beta can insinuate that she’s fucking naked , the way the invisbitch had, and no one bats an eye. But when he walks out with his shoulders revealed, eyebrows raise. He’d been a fool to think it would be any otherwise. To think that the fact that since these alphas that were anticipating being future leaders of society, they wouldn’t lose their focus over the sight of fucking collarbones . They were still teenage alpha afterall. 

It takes all of Katsuki to maintain his cool.

The other two omegas in the class seemed to have foreseen this—Pink Cheeks fitted in a full body suit and Ears wearing what she normally did on a day to day basis, a baggy jacket that smells faintly of an older alpha (likely her father) shielding her shoulders. He wonders if they would’ve chosen styles as conservative if they were sure it wouldn’t have attracted the unwanted attention of half their class. Judging by the way the brunette awkwardly pulls at the fabric of her suit every so often, he has trouble believing she wouldn’t. 

“It’s to enhance the amount of sweat he can produce!” Deku chirped, setting a hand on the alpha’s shoulder and steering her away from where the omega bristled. A poor attempt to diffuse the oncoming blow up since the pink girl’s smile immediately stiffened at another alpha’s touch and the idiot’s squeaky voice was the last thing Katsuki wanted to hear at the moment (even beneath Present Mic’s booming volume). 

They weren’t on the best of terms at the moment. Not after the idiot had hesitantly offered up his sweater earlier, right after they had stepped out of their respective changing rooms, with a nervous stutter of “if-if you’re cold and want to c-cover up more…” (As if the dumbass had any right to criticize his costume when he was hopping around as a green Easter Bunny). 

He was lucky Katsuki had only been bothered enough to roll his eyes and shove past him. But that luck was very likely to run dry with how often one certain green gaze was tracing down his exposed neck.

“You see, Kacchan secretes a nitroglycerin like substance and he needs—“ Deku continued to babble, eyes dancing around the room but always finding their way back to just below the omega’s chin. 

Deku staring at him was something he was used to by now (he knew he was an attractive omega–it was hard to miss the amount of alpha who walked into walls around him on a daily basis), but Deku distracted from something to do with being a future hero over the sight of his neck? The idiot should be worrying about his newfound, worthless quirk that required him to break his bones to exhaust even a bit of his strength. He should be doing all he could to gauge their surroundings and figure out what this training exercise would be so he can prepare one of his complicated strategies and ensure he does even half as well as the rest of their class. Instead, he’s playing puppy guard to Katsuki. 

Laughing that too loud laugh of hers, the pink-skinned girl waved the nerd off, shrugging his hand off her shoulder a bit more aggressively than necessary ( alpha boundary bullshit ), but keeping the imposed distance nonetheless. “You lost me at nitro- something , Midoriya- san !” she admitted, starting to back away in an attempt to escape the oncoming quirk sermon (the class hadn’t known each other for long, and already Deku was popular for his ability to talk someone’s head off when it came to power analysis. You know, when he wasn’t eyefucking his best friend’s scent gland ). For a moment, Katsuki almost believes she’s done and he’ll have peace and quiet as she makes her exit and time to beat the sense into Deku, but of course, he isn’t that lucky.

Deciding that she hadn’t been annoying enough blabbering their heads off and squealing in their ears, Raccoon Eyes decided to seal the deal by proclaiming something Katsuki had heard far too many times in his life (only three times so far, but once was one too many). In a cheery voice, her eyes crinkling and cheeks darkening, she announced: “Todoroki- san sure is lucky, huh?!” 

She was loud enough that the whole class would be able to hear, even over their overlapping conversations and banter. Immediately, the room quieted slightly, words trailing off into spliced sentences and unfinished thoughts as his fellow students did their best to pretend like they weren’t eavesdropping. It was just as poor an attempt as last week, when Half ‘n Half was tasked with passing out an English assignment and everyone went dead silent and starry eyed when he got to Katsuki’s desk, only to immediately burst into conversation the second he’d simply set the paper down. He’d heard more than one squeal and a flustered comment of “Did you see how lovingly he dropped that paper on to his desk?” and barely managed to contain his rage. They’d completely ignored the fact that he’d managed to trip the dumbass in favor of turning the interaction into some lovey-dovey fluff prompt.

Instinctively, Katsuki’s gaze rose to where the alpha in question had been standing near the back of the class, leaning back against the wall next to a raven-haired beta who was wearing a bookshelf on her ass. 

Todoroki Shouto’s hero suit was beyond help. If Katsuki thought he looked bad in his polo a few nights before, he didn’t know what to categorize this as. The idiot had stylized their gym uniform with a utility belt and some Ugg boots ( in this era? ) and called it a day. It was almost as bad as McDonald’s (the boy who spoke to animals wearing just the wrong shade of red and yellow). It was worse than Purple Balls trading pants for a mini bathtub ( what more needed to be said? ). It was bland and boring–and looking at it that way actually, it really fit the asshole’s character (Bakugou Katsuki had only known Todoroki Shouto for a little over a week and a half and he was already the most dull person he’d ever met in the entirety of his life).

Horrendous clothing aside, his expression is unfairly impassive, as if he hadn’t even heard the comment. But judging by the way the girl at his side’s cheeks rosen, Katsuki writes off the possibility with a roll of his eyes. 

Figures . An alpha would find nothing objectionable in a comment like that. An alpha would brush it off as the truth with a wave of his hand and continue on with his day, maybe laugh a little and preen under the compliment. An alpha would let a comment like that slide, because it was normal and nothing new.

Acknowledging the fact that he’d be the only one to even consider saying something against a comment like that, Katsuki opened his mouth to bite out a clarification that no , Todoroki Shouto is not lucky, because Todoroki Shouto is nothing to him . (And the fact that Katsuki maybe kind of would die for his sister, and his brother was actually kind of funny in a spiteful, daddy issues kind of way, would not change that). And, no his costume wasn’t revealing, they were just perverted. To be extra nice, he considered throwing in a comment about Y2k wanting it’s bodysuit back, but in the end, Racoon Eyes’ pride was saved.

“Mina! Why didn’t you compliment me like that!? Double standards, much?”

Bakugou Katsuki turns at the sound of the voice to find the muzzled redhead flexing only a few paces behind him. A broad smile overcomes the alphas face, framing jagged teeth, and his stature screams gym rat just as much as his strong features growl about typical alpha supremacy bullshit. Naturally, the classroom fell into a fit of laughter as they gave up the guise that they hadn’t been eavesdropping, entirely charmed by the funny alpha and his funny comments .

Katsuki lets out a huff, convinced he’s being ridiculed–made into the punchline of some joke about sexism and omegan rights–but then he meets the alpha’s eyes, a deep red a few shades lighter than his own, and his breath catches.

An alpha who had found something objectionable in that comment.

An alpha who didn’t acknowledge the hypocrisy as truth and saw it as it was.

An alpha who wouldn’t let comments like that slide.

He doesn’t know quite what to make of that. 

And he doesn’t manage to in time for All Might to drop in the middle of the room, worsening Katsuki’s headache even further with only three words.

<>

“You didn’t get stabbed with a fork or anything, right?” Yaoyorozu Momo asked fretfully, surveying her best friend for any hidden stab wounds or bruises. When he broke the news to her about his intentions to have a dinner party with the Bakugou's the recent weekend, she half expected to never see him again, for him to become a victim to his… unique… omega’s anger.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case and Todoroki Shouto stood next to her now, pretending to watch as Sero Hanta and Kouda Kouji avoid Mineta Minoru’s purple balls in an attempt to get his bomb? Rocket ship? She hadn’t been paying the most attention when their instructor had explained the exercise, too distracted by the conversation that had gone on right before his arrival to even begin to think about much else.

Shou-chan, lucky? As if.  

“No,” Shouto answered, but he sounded mournful and his fresh, minty scent was a hair too sharp. For a passing omega, it wouldn’t be noticeable, but she’d already seen the other class betas glance back once or twice in concern, ever ready to mediate. “He didn’t stab me.”

“Then what—“ Momo started, cutting off to the sound of All Might’s narration.

“Kouda-san has tripped over one of the balls and appears to be crying… Sero-shounen is on his own to defeat Mineta-shounen! A fateful battle between alpha!” 

Glancing up to the screen confirmed where the two alpha were standing across from one another in some malformed replication of a Western standoff, Sero aiming his tape dispensing wrist and Mineta with one hand placed on the back of his head. Squinting, she could just make out the form of the purple-haired omega behind them, one of her earlobes wrapped around Kouda Kouji’s ankles as she rolled her eyes. What was it with omegas and bad attitudes in their class?

“What went wrong?” Momo continued, tearing her gaze away from the match.

Shouto’s responses were normally immediate and curt. Since they were kids, playing together at her mother’s social galas, he had always been a serious conversationalist. One of her most prominent memories of him was of her grandmother claiming he’d be a heartbreaker when he was older, and his response being an urgent and abashed, “No, I would never.”

That was hardly a few months ago.

When Shouto hadn’t answered by the time Sero and Mineta have finally begun shooting, the beta turned to face him directly. 

After presentation, Momo had learned to hate a lot about herself. From people passing on the street, who would take large, exaggerated whiffs of her scent and then frown in disappointment, she learned to hate her subdued scent. From her father’s disapproving shake of his head and her mother’s downcast gaze as they listened to the doctor report on her status as a beta, she learned to hate her dynamic. From the way her classmates had begun to talk over her and disregard her opinions, she learned to hate her forwardness, her decisiveness.

She knew that being a beta was what made her able to trace the lines of Shouto’s face and acknowledge what he was feeling; the confusion etched between his eyebrows and the worry nibbling on his bottom lip. She knew that being a beta was what made her able to think past those emotions and what it could mean for the alpha, to skip past theory making and speculations, and jump straight to wondering how she could fix the situation. Deep down, she tried to reference the statistics, to recall all the reports on what her dynamic was good for and how they were the backbones of packs. 

She couldn’t placate him with a caress of her hand or sweeten her scent to calm his nerves the way she wished she could, but maybe with more information she could help. Maybe with more information she wouldn’t be as useless.

“What are we supposed to do with her now? What can you do with a beta? This is your family’s genes, Hina!”

“Nothing.” Shouto admitted eventually. “That’s the problem.”

His mismatched eyes, calculating and cloudy, are trained on the blonde omega across the room. The omega who’s fiery in spirit and in words and is everything an omega isn’t yet comes packaged perfectly in the shape of every teenage alpha’s wet dream (dressed in that hero costume, especially). The omega that tramples on everything her parents raised her to become, what she failed to become, and stands proud while she bows her head in shame. If he cared to, Bakugou Katsuki could probably give Shouto a simple half-lidded look and relax all the muscles of his jaw--unfold the clench of his fist. 

Momo hates him for it.

“And the better alpha wins!” All Might’s booming voice intrudes once more, drawing her eyes to the screen where Sero Hanta wipes imaginary sweat from his head as if to say it was nothing before turning to help his teary-eyed teammate to his feet. Their teacher continues on to ask about the team’s strategies and what they could’ve done differently, but the beta’s too wrapped up in her own thoughts to follow along in the conversation at that point.

The rest of the class passes quickly after that, with her turn breezing by without much fanfare. She’s teamed up with another beta, a girl with a frog quirk, and they make quick work of Ashido Mina and Kaminari Denki, who had been more focused hyping each other up than actually participating in the match. “Two beta minds are better than one. Asui-san and Yaoyorozu-san clearly proved that to Kaminari-san, huh, Ashido-shoujo?” All Might had joked upon their winning, and Ashido had thrown her head back into a laugh even as she consoled an embarrassed blonde beta. 

Afterwards, Tsuyu, as she insists on being called, stands near her and tries to start a conversation, but Yaoyorozu can’t get her heart into it with her best friend clearly distressed in the back of the class.

Thankfully, their small talk gets cut short when Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku get paired against one another.

By this point in time, it’s painfully evident that the two share a close bond. Though Midoriya was quick to come across as kind and friendly to the rest of the class, Bakugou Katsuki had made it a point to only ever converse with the said alpha. And no one had missed the way the green haired boy had continued to call the omega ‘Kacchan’, a clear endearment, even after the omega had been fated. Or the fact that Kacchan wore his clothes to cover his scent, still. 

Momo wasn’t one to gossip, but as a beta, listening into others’ conversations and extracting all the information she could from them came naturally to her. She’d heard Mashirao Oijirou muttering about how disrespectful it came across; she knew Ashido Mina joked about the spitfire blonde being a player. The general consensus of the class, from what she had gathered, was that Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku’s relationship was scandalous at best, and a spit in Shouto’s face at worst. Accordingly, whenever the two were in vicinity of one another, all eyes were on them.

Maybe this was what had gotten Shouto so down. Chancing a glance at him, Momo found the alpha’s gaze locked in on the duo as they made their way towards the battle arena, focused and chilled slightly. She’d never known him to be the jealous type—but then again, he’d never really had anything to be jealous over before.

And of course, Bakugou Katsuki, with his body perfectly toned and wrapped up in his too tight hero costume. Bakugou Katsuki, with red crossed over his chest like a battle cry rather than the way it should be worn by an omega as her mother would say (draped over them in elegant wedding robes). Bakugou Katsuki, who’s gait was confident and strides were demanding. Of course, he was something to be jealous over.

“Who do you think will win, Momo-san?” Tsuyu questions, pulling her out of her cacophony of thoughts and back to real time. 

On the field, Iida Tenya has joined Bakugou, clearly disgruntled by the fact that he was paired up with the class delinquent if the way he furiously wiped at his glasses is anything to go by. Logic would state their team to win by default, with Iida Tenya being a legacy and Bakugou Katsuki being the menace he was in battle. Seeing as the brunette omega, a girl so painfully sweet it made Momo wonder why she was even in the hero course in the first place, joined Midoriya Izuku, who’d never made it through a class with nothing broken—the winner was obvious.

And even still, after glancing back to where Shouto watched the match through lidded eyes, Momo could only say: “Midoriya’s team.”

And there was no reasoning beyond her own jealousy.

&

All Bakugou Katsuki’s concerns– his mother’s newfound friendship with Todoroki Natsuo, haunting golden eyes and a determined red glance, slimy, slimy green goo– slip away the second the Symbol of Peace, Japan’s Number One Hero, his childhood idol , speaks more than three words.  

As if his class being tone deaf wasn’t bad enough, All Might is painfully sexist.

At first, it comes in the form of an averted gaze and a soft smile. The man had made it a point to overlook the classroom when he stepped in, admiring the crowd of students, exchanging nods of respect and matching the gazes of a majority of them as he went over the objectives of the exercise. When he’d turned to Earlobes, he’d dropped his gaze to the floor and his broad grin had softened into something less startlingly brazen and more careful. He hadn’t even bothered to look at Pink Cheeks at all, looking right past her in favor of the blank space next to her that was allegedly Hagakure Tooru.

Then, in his addresses. In the way Deku had become Midoriya- shounen , while he had become Bakugou- chan . In the way he praised Sero- shounen and Mineta- shounen for their hard work, and completely overlooked the fact that it had been Kyouka- chan to take down Kouda- san during their fight, not a purple ball flung at random. In the way Kaminari- san shouldered the blame for his team's failure, when Ashido- shoujo had been slacking off just as much the entire match.

Katsuki couldn’t ban Todoroki Natsuo from his home, knowing it could cost him recipe recommendations from his sister; he couldn’t un fate himself from Todoroki Shouto or begin to hope that Shark Week maybe doesn’t look down on him like all the rest; he couldn’t think about suffocating green slime and disgusting, disgusting comments. 

But Bakugou Katsuki was going to get All Might to look at him.

(And if he has to beat Deku into an early grave to do so, so be it). 

Chapter Text

()

When the Bakugous’ left, they took their laughter and smiles with them, leaving behind a familiar carcass of a home. 

Somehow—maybe it was the knowledge of what it could be, of the warmth and fullness that was missing—the manor felt more cold and barren than ever before.

Enji spent the rest of the night proving that his anger management classes weren’t worth the hefty price they were paying, shouting and snarling into the early hours of the morning. At the sound of the first yell, Fuyumi had fled the scene, excusing herself with shaking fists and glassy eyes. Sometime around two a.m., when the worst of their father’s anger had boiled over, Natsuo retreated as well—running a hand through Shouto’s hair as he did with a muttered excuse about a morning class. 

Judging by the fact that Shouto woke up the next morning to a face full of the prior night’s leftovers, he didn’t manage to make it much longer than that. And his father had been indignant enough to leave him stranded to sleep with cold rice and shrimp tempura as a pillow.

He was still pulling crumbs out of his hair even a week later. Just that morning, Momo had plucked a grain of rice from his hair, nose wrinkled and gaze confused. Reluctantly, after a few minutes of clear deliberation, she had asked if he was feeling well.

Shouto had never been a good liar, so he settled for silence. 

“Listen to me, Shouto! Do you understand what you’ve done?! What danger your omega is in with these-these fantasies of being a hero?! ”

Bakugou Katsuki hadn’t interacted with him in class beyond an occasional glare or grunt. While their shared dinner had achieved a stable relationship between their families (Shouto still wasn’t sure how he felt about Natsuo casually slipping away to join the Bakugous’ for lunch or the way Fuyumi had begun to regularly text the bane of his existence to talk about recipes , of all things), it seemed to have done nothing but strain their already taut bond. 

Maybe it was the fact that their packs had actually liked each other. Maybe it was the fact that Shouto had caught Katsuki laughing one too many times in his household—that he had seemed comfortable there, seated across from him. Maybe it was the reality of what they were to one another finally sinking in. What they could be.

Maybe it was all in Shouto’s head–maybe Katsuki hadn’t given thought to the dinner and what it meant beyond its end. The blonde did seem to treat everyone the same, rolling his eyes at every friendly comment directed at him and barring his teeth at anyone who approached. Shouto was probably fooling himself into believing the omega’s scowl was any different when placed on him, that his teeth were any sharper or his frown any deeper. He was nothing but an “extra” to Bakugou Katsuki.

Maybe he was still trying to decide how he felt about that. Whether he cared, or if he even should.

“So, Todoroki-san…” a high pitched voice muses. Shouto turns to come face to face—or rather, face to air until he looks down—with the smallest alpha in the class. He’s too distracted by the bathtub fastened around the little guy’s waist to notice the leer on his face in time for the ensuing question. One he should be used to by now, but slaps him in the face with more maybes and things he doesn’t want to think about all the same. “Aren’t you nervous for your omega?”

“Could you stand watching your omega being beaten or killed by a villain?! Could you live with yourself knowing  you put your omega in the position to be potentially even raped by a villain?!”

“Why would he be?” Hanta Sero helpfully interrupts, snapping Shouto back into focus in time to notice that the whole class has tuned into the discussion, though a few poorly tried to hide their attempts with stuttered conversation. Conversations that fall flat at the next words out of the beta’s mouth. “Midoriya-san wouldn’t touch him.” 

They aren’t spoken with malice, and Sero is even smiling reassuringly as he says them–and yet, the room reacts as though he’d just dropped the juiciest piece of gossip anyone’s heard in months. Shouto would’ve been concerned if he didn’t hear Hagakure gasp and watch Kouda tense up every time he passed the green-haired alpha on the way to his desk at the start of every lesson. 

He wasn’t stupid. He’d connected the dots long before and knew everyone thought his ego was inflated enough to be insulted by Bakugou Katsuki, an omega who wasn’t even his (maybe, maybe, maybe), having a close friend. Normally, he’d have the luxury to be able to ignore their whispers and heated stares, pretending as though he didn’t notice, but now, as the center of attention, he wasn’t as lucky.

Shifting awkwardly, he spares a glance up at the screen, where Midoriya, who broke bones like they were replaceable, and Uraraka, who looked like one of Fuyumi’s old Finishing School friends, are stretching in preparation for the match against a devil incarnate and a legacy. In what world was he supposed to be concerned for Bakugou? As if Midoriya would get the chance to touch him.

 “What about Uraraka-chan?” Mineta proposes then, in between a raillery laugh. No one in the class entertains the thought longer than a snort or a roll of their eyes, but the alpha continues, looking directly at Shouto when he speaks again, tone suggestive. “Though I suppose that would be a pretty entertaining fight to watch, huh, Todoroki-san?”

Entertaining? Watching Bakugou Katsuki gutting someone as kind as Uraraka Ochako alive sounded like nightmare fuel.

He’s saved from answering by the dramatic narration of All Might announcing the beginning of the fight as a fated battle of alpha versus alpha and omega versus omega . Which is ironic, because the battle ends up being more of an alpha versus omega and alpha-takes-on-broadway than much else.

Iida Tenya has decided to dedicate the drill to practicing his villain portrayal, a feat that earns a good round of laughter from the class every other minute and distracts from the much more serious battle occurring at the same time a few storeys below him. At first, All Might attempted to persuade him not to leave an omega alone to fight alone over the intercom, but then an explosion rocks the entire building and their teacher intelligently decides to go silent about the matter.

Uraraka Ochako is nowhere to be found by the camera, disappearing at the apparent order of Midoriya when Bakugou appears down the hall, but Todoroki doesn’t have the mind to look for her. Like the rest of the class, he’s focused on the main event. 

At first, Midoriya Izuku is holding back. Every punch is pulled, blows missing and his kicks just a few marks off. While they haven’t seen each other fight enough yet, it only being a week into classes and one of their first battle drills, Shouto knows enough to know that this isn’t his full potential. That he’s refraining from harming the omega before him.

Bakugou knows this too, if the grit of his teeth and occasional shout are anything to go by. In the middle of their fight, they exchange a few words that Ashido Mina attempts to dub (no one buys her “Kacchan, I don’t want to hurt you” followed by “grunt, grunt, growl” , but it earns a few giggles nonetheless), but then Bakugou does something and the joking and snickering and awed whispers stop. Then Shouto can feel the weight of his classmates' eyes on him again, only this time, he doesn’t have the mind to be annoyed or turn stiff under them.

Maybe, maybe, maybe none of this is up to him. 

His eyes flash gold . 

Maybe fate’s an asshole. 

&

It only took Katsuki six seconds of knowing Glasses to recognize him as another alpha supremacist who lurked on Reddit posting in omega hate threads at 3a.m. 

It felt like the idiot’s eyes were on him at all hours, and while he wasn’t unused to that when it came to alphas ( he was best friends with Deku ), it was annoying for a far different reason than he was accustomed to. Rather than getting hard over every single time the blonde so much as breathed, Glasses was constantly awaiting for his next fuck up, practically frothing at the mouth in excitement at the chance to lecture him.

The second the soles of Katsuki’s shoes touched his desk in any class, the bastard was right at his side, screeching and screaming about discipline and respect. The second his voice raised even slightly, the loser was sputtering and simpering about proper classroom etiquette and inside voices. At lunch just a few hours prior, the asshole had gone out of his way to march across the cafeteria in order to shout at the omega over how he was representing Aizawa-sensei even outside of homeroom and that meant no using no-no words.

When Katsuki had asked for a clarification on what no-no words meant, the class president had turned scarlet and began to stutter. When the blonde had tried to help him out by guessing which word he was so affronted by, his leg engines started smoking.

They tended to do that a lot around him, Katsuki noted dully, eying where the familiar smog was beginning to waft between them. The exercise hadn’t even started yet. 

“Since we will be playing the villains, I suggest we come up with code names to fully immerse ourselves into the roles,” the nerd said, as if he wasn’t already knee deep into the portrayal. The Class Prez had gone as far as to draw a red frowny face on the shoulders of his Stormtrooper Knockoff of a costume, and then went even further to let Kaminari Denki draw a beard on his helmet, under the guise that “beards are totally evil dawg” according to the said beta (who was overjoyed to be Sharpieing the alpha). 

Since they were playing offense, they had been allowed to enter the building first and familiarize themselves with the layout. All Might said he’d announce the start of the match within five minutes, but seconds stretched out long in the presence of Iida Tenya, and Bakugou felt like he’d been walking next to the bastard in uncomfortable silence for the past half hour. They hadn’t even made it to the bomb room yet, and still, Katsuki couldn’t help but wish the drill would start so it he would never have to talk with him again.

When the omega hadn’t responded within the appropriate time frame (three seconds), Iida cleared his throat and continued. “I was thinking I’d take the name Fast and Furious—the namesake of a popular American horror movie,” he explained, hands chopping down in a weird sort of gesticulation that had nothing to do with what he was saying. “It goes along well with my quirk, because I have the ability to—“

Katsuki was not blind. He could see the engines Glasses had for legs very clearly. 

“Can I be cockslut?” the omega interrupted, because he didn’t need the mechanics of the class prez’s quirk explained (they were pretty blatant).

The smoke between them thickened immediately and the sound of Glasses’ stammering crescendoed, but Katsuki thankfully missed the bulk of his panic, turning the corner into the presumable bomb room, if the large sign hanging above it that read ‘BOMB ROOM’ in bold red was to be trusted. 

It was no different from the others aside from the fact that a cartoonish bomb was propped up in the center of it. With a single window just opposite of the door, there were only two modes of entry, unless Deku had a meltdown and decided to tear down the walls with his suspicious new quirk. 

Katsuki would beat him to a pulp before he was able to even consider it.

“--using such language is disrespectful to your peers, your family, your mentors and everyone around you! What would you do if there was a child next to you when you said…those words–”

“Calm your tits, Fast and Delirious,” the omega grounded out, only to start a new round of harping from the alpha. Living with Bakugou Mitsuki, who could scream a storm for three hours and twenty-nine minutes straight nonstop (he knew because of that one time he used her Balenci aga Black Viscose Midi Dress as a superhero cape when he was seven), the blonde was wonderful at speaking over people and saw no issue talking strategy over Iida’s qualms. “I’ll be fucking obliterating Deku, and you can take on Pink Cheeks and guard the bomb.”

The alpha’s ranting immediately comes to a halt, and Bakugou tenses in preparation to fist fight over his plan, but rather than doing what was expected of an alpha-supremacist-who-lurked-on-Reddit-posting-in-omega-hate-threads-at-3a.m, Iida Tenya simply nods in affirmation. “I will valiantly do my job in guarding the bomb that will explode the city, fellow miscreant!” he proclaimed, followed by a hacking sound that Katsuki supposes is an evil laugh.

Blinking in surprise at the fact that the alpha had just willingly agreed to being ordered around, and by him no less, it takes the omega a moment to recompose himself. By the time he does, the alpha has already taken a protective stance before the hulking figure in the middle of the room and the smoke between them has dissipated. For a moment, Katsuki can almost see him in a different light, taken aback for the second time that day by an alpha.

And then Iida Tenya squats as low as he can and juts out his arms into a T, staring straight and determined ahead as he does.

Nope, still a freak .

The drill starts only a few seconds after that, and it doesn’t take Katsuki long to find Deku and tackle him to the ground. Briefly, he registered the panicked brunette that took off behind him, but he didn't consider her long enough before they exchanged blows the way they had dozens of times before. 

Almost the same.

Katsuki grew up beating the shit out of Deku. Since they were kids, arguing over who would have the stronger quirk when they were older or which All Might movie was the best, they had nearly always resorted to fists and fangs at some point. His mother used to apologize to Auntie Inko, believing that the sweet omega could’ve never raised her son to be so violent and that their  shared plethora of bruises could only have her deviant of a son to blame—but Izuku had thrown the first punch over the trashy All Might: Party in the USA 20th year anniversary film enough times to discredit that.

The dumbass had been quirkless for years and still managed to scar him up just fine. There was no reason for him to be missing his blind spots now unless it was intentional.  

It pisses Katsuki off and All Might’s pathetic begging for Iida to be an alpha and come fight with him does nothing to help.

Landing a vicious punch to Deku’s jaw, enjoying the sight of his head snapping back against the ground beneath them, he snarls out, “The fuck gives, Deku?” 

The only thing the asshole is able to give, seemingly, is a pathetic moan and an insulting attempt to shove him off. Katsuki does not weigh that much. Midoriya Izuku earns a black eye for insinuating as much.

“K- Kacchan ,” Deku whimpers, pathetically, not even trying to do anything about the fact that Katsuki is preparing to curb stomp him into the next century. For a moment, as he cracks a purpling, puffy eye open, he looks as though he’s about to beg for mercy, lip trembling in preparation. Katsuki shuts him up with a second black eye and an unimpressed scoff.

Deku just takes it. He’s not even fighting back anymore.

“You’re not even trying to win,” Katsuki noted, trying to make sense of the statement even as he mouths it out. The alpha had always been tricky, coming up with strategies and plans that could switch a fight at the last second. But, this Deku didn’t look like he’d be so much as getting up soon. He had a handful of minutes left until the timer signifying Iida and his win went off, no time to be wasted sprawled out groaning and bitching on the ground. 

But if this wasn’t the threads of some complicated plan Katsuki was about to be tangled in, then what was it ? Why wouldn’t Deku give it his all the way he’d so determinedly swore he would since he was a kid? 

Why were his eyes soft, fields of grass rather than those hard, relentless emeralds? 

Katsuki knew , deep down he was painfully aware of those eyes and what they meant.

It was the same reason they were tracing the lines of sweat beading down his neck, the same reason he swallowed so hard and glanced away, the same reason he’d hung around him the entire morning instead of analyzing their surroundings and plotting his next big, complex plan.

Katsuki was no longer his opponent.

Ever since he had oh-so-conveniently manifested his quirk overnight, Deku had avoided any chance to spar Katsuki. Sure, they would playfully wrestle in the old sandpit and shove at each other the way they always did—but they never seriously went after one another or trained with each other. Originally, the blonde had just assumed it was the idiot alpha trying to keep his new quirk under lock for the same reason that kept him from explaining to his family how he had gained it. He hadn’t considered there being a second reason.

That Deku was scared he could hurt him. That Deku was concerned over breaking the fragile omega with his big, bad new quirk. That Deku would rather dance around him carefully than focus on his dream and his future unfolding before him at that very moment.

And really, none of this was new. Ever since presentation, since Deku had rolled out of bed a few feet taller and Katsuki had sniffled his way through his first heat, there had always been something new there, underlying their relationship. Something that stiffened their conversation whenever it had anything to do with dynamics and made the idiot suddenly cling to him closer whenever they were in crowded areas. Something that made him glance down to his neck between every other word, as if needing to make sure it was still unmarked at least once a minute, that made him near-violently enthusiastic over his new fating. That made him more protective over him, enough that he was willing to jump before a villain, quirkless and defenseless to try and save him.

“Calm down, little omega. There’s no use struggling. Your kind is naturally weak—there’s no helping it.” 

Something hot and angry and humiliated curls in the pit of Katsuki’s stomach. Something he could no longer ignore or roll his eyes at.

Roughly pushing himself up and off of the alpha, Katsuki stalked away from the asshole, mouth pinched and fists clenched, trying to control his breathing while simultaneously trying to come terms with the fact that Deku, of all people, fucking Deku, looked down on him .

As if it wasn’t enough that their entire class was willing to openly stare at him and his new hero suit like he was there for their admiration, as if it wasn’t enough that Todoroki Shouto was lucky to have him like he was a winning lottery ticket, as if it wasn’t enough that All Might, his childhood idol, wouldn’t even look at him.

“Kacchan?” Deku breathes, rising to his feet on wobbly knees. “Your scent…”

“Now be a good boy and let me in–it should come natural to you, as an omega.”

Deku’s eyes are on his neck again, gentle and caressing, and wanting and desiring and possessive . His hands raise as he stumbles forward, open and careful, and big and thick and alpha . Katsuki’s breath comes out faster; deep in his chest, the ugly feeling boils.

All he wants is a fight. For Deku to punch him like he means it with no restraint. To test himself against that ridiculously strong quirk.

He’s never had trouble getting what he wanted from alphas.

Stumbling backwards away from the outreached arms, Katsuki falls back against one of the walls. Predictably, the alpha falls in step to his dance, rushing forward and trailing his eyes all over him, checking for injuries (when really the dumbass should be checking himself, if anyone). The omega waits patiently for him to finish his inspection, for his mouth to open around a question about if Kacchan’s okay or if Kacchan needs something , before canting his head to the left.

And now Deku is looking at him, though ogling might be a better word. As close as they are, Katsuki can hear the quickening of his breath and see the miniscule twitch of his lashes, wavering under the slipping of his restraint. But it wouldn’t be enough to break it, the past few years were a testament to that.

“ ‘Zuku ,” Katsuki hums, looking up through shivering eyelashes. A pout purses his lips and he’s exaggeratedly tilting his head up to emphasize their height difference. His own hands tug needily at the idiot’s finger tips.

Deku eats it up, any alpha would. Red blossoms across his face, staining his cheeks and ears red in a way that would’ve been funny if not for the context. If not the fact that the subject of his desires, the painter of that red, was his best friend, his once equal. “K-Kacchan?”

All Might is speaking, announcing the time they have left and whatever else, threatening to pull Deku from the trance Katsuki had carefully lured him in. The greenette starts, blinking quickly and beginning to pull back, so Katsuki moves quick.

On the tips of his toes, propped up against the alpha chest to chest, Katsuki leans close enough to his ear that his lips brush against it, and promises–headly and coquettish– “I’ll let you bite me if you can beat me.”

The change is instantaneous.

Katsuki’s eyes flash silver and he barely moves out of the way fast enough.

There’s a moment of numb silence that Katsuki faintly registers All Might shouting over, but he doesn’t have the headspace to make sense of the stream of commands or much else beyond the empty space where he was just standing. The wall he’d been standing before had completely caved in .

Deku hasn’t moved from in front of it, crouching forward slightly with ragged breath rocking his entire body. All the sweetness and sugar is gone, hardened into a determined stare, emerald green , and a barred row of sharp teeth. Firm biceps tense beneath his hero suit, and Katsuki briefly wonders when they had gotten so big in between the panic rising deep within his chest. Everything about him screams danger and warns the omega to run .

But this is exactly what Katsuki had been asking for the entire match–like hell he was going to pussy out now. 

Lips splitting under the force of an unrestrained grin, Katsuki meets Deku’s punch with a room-shaking explosion.

Using the smoke as a shield, he flips over the alpha, trailing his hand over his shoulder as he does and snatching his hand back seconds before it can be grabbed, near teasingly. This Deku, who’s actually trying, however, doesn’t seem willing to let him get away so easily.

Twisting sharply, just as Katsuki was about to send a blast to his back and send him flying forward, he managed to side step and send his next attack flying at the same time. This one swiping the floor from beneath the omega's feet.

In his surprise, the blonde freefalls five stories. 

Landing with a concerning crack, Katsuki barely has time to assess the damage or feel the pain before he’s rolling out of the way to avoid Deku’s bodyslam that cracks a spider web across the ground.

“ What the actual fuck , Deku ?” Katsuki heaves out to the irreconcilable monster who’s just as quickly rising to his feet nonchalantly, like he didn’t even realize how far he’d fallen. The very same monster who had been whining about a splinter just a few hours ago. A hysterical laugh, that turns into a pained cough halfway through, escapes the omega’s throat. “You fucking asshole, you’ve been holding back on me this much?!”

Deku makes no indication that he even hears him as he approaches. Maybe Katsuki should’ve taken that as a warning rather than a challenge.

They fall into a more dangerous dance then, coming at one another more viciously than they had in years. Katsuki’s pleased enough that although the alpha had gotten considerably stronger with his new quirk, blowing out glass and tearing holes into the wall without concern over the rest of the building standing above them, he’s still just the same loser as he was. The omega can keep up, a little breathless and wobbly at points, but he can hasn’t fallen behind , and really, that’s all that’s important.

There’s a brief moment, when Katsuki is pushing Deku back into a corner under an unrelenting storm of explosions, that he thinks it’s over and he’s won. A beat that his smile widens into more of a smirk and he prepares to turn to the camera where All Might will be looking at him and announce his victory. But just as the explosions slow and stall, and he allows himself to start feeling the cramping of his arms and the throbbing of his back, just as he makes to turn away from the crumpled form of his childhood friend, he's slammed into the ground face first.

There’s an elbow digging into a raw part of his back, squeezing a weak scream out of the omega and forcing him back down when he struggles to get back up, and then he can feel hot, even breathing against his neck.

He has me, he has me, he has me, he–

“Deku,” Katsuki wheezes out, in between labored breaths, eyes widening when he feels sharp teeth edging at his scent gland. Panic sets in immediately. “Deku… Deku – Izuku !”

But it wasn’t Deku on his back, it wasn’t his childhood friend. It was an irreconcilable monster who he’d promised could bite him if he won. And he’d win, if Katsuki’s next scream, when his arms were yanked back in the wrong direction, was any indication.

Katsuki hadn’t thought this far ahead. Hadn’t thought of what would happen if he actually lost. He didn’t think he would lose. That he could actually be lesser than Izuku now. 

He hadn’t wanted to accept it.

His neck feels wet. The alpha was splitting skin now. 

Just a little further and he’d be claimed .

Chapter Text

&

The morning after his rut finally broke, Deku had been on his porch with a small smile on his face and a pink flush on his cheeks. He’d been staring at his red converse when the door opened, and hesitated before looking up and meeting the omegas’ eyes.

Katsuki pretended like he didn’t notice the hurt in his gaze when their irises stayed a respective ruby red and emerald green. 

They never spoke of it after. Acted as though they didn’t see the surprise on Auntie Inko’s face when she picked them up after school that afternoon, or didn’t know why Katsuki’s dad set a hand on Deku’s shoulder reassuringly a few days after at dinner. They just continued on with their lives as they had before, as though there was never a chance their fates would intertwine, like neither of them had an inkling of suspicion that they would be each other’s fated. 

Katsuki hadn’t been half as disappointed as the alpha. Not because he was entirely against the idea of being mated to Deku (he was tolerable at least, and their pacts were already familiar), but because he simply hadn’t cared. The path to becoming number one had always seemed far more important than mates and fate and whatnot. And besides, his own parents hadn’t been matched by some universal force—and they worked out fine (or as fine as any relationship could end when Bakugou Mitsuki was involved)—so the whole fating thing never really meant much to him in the long run. 

But it meant a lot to Deku, even though he liked to pretend it didn’t. He’d been convinced that they would be fated entirely, laughing at comments Inko made about how they bickered like old married couples and Mitsuki’s teasing demands for them to just get fated already. He’d had it down to literary analyses and theories, that nerd , utterly convinced he had their entire futures figured out. The day Katsuki showed up to the Midoriya’s home with his newly developed scent, sandwiched between two overprotective alpha parents bodyguarding him through Inko’s garden (because carrots and sunflowers were such a dangerous threat, of course), Deku’s smile had practically glowed.  

But no one could predict fate.

They hadn’t been fated, and judging by how unbearably encouraging Deku had been about his relationship with Todoroki Shouto, they weren’t going to be mated either. And Katsuki had been fine with that, had assumed that Deku would be fine with it as well and that what rested between them would continue to go unsaid , unaddressed forever more. 

And now Deku had his mouth clamped down over his scent mark, 

Sickeningly, Katsuki started to feel less and less panicked as the teeth sunk in deeper. Encompassed by the warmth and the familiar scent that was his best friend , he almost felt safe , thoughts turning to mush and giving way to his omegan instincts that were ever-aching to be claimed. For a moment that would keep him up later that night in a cold sweat, he accepted it . 

Their packs liked each other. Deku was tolerable. And it wasn’t like this would affect their futures as pros—he could still be Number One, no matter who’s claiming mark was on his neck. In fact, the idiot was more likely to push him forward and encourage his way to the top than stand in his way, even at the expense of his own rise through the ranks. Deku had always been that type of friend. And on an instinctual level, he trusted Deku with his life, moreso now that he knew there was more power behind that bashful smile. His omega was purring in awe of such power.

There was no use struggling. 

He could accept Midoriya Izuku as his mate. 

And then the heavy weight is lifted off his shoulders instantaneously, Deku’s teeth yanking from his throat viciously and leaving a flood of blood in their wake. 

Arms released, Katsuki crumpled against the ground, before just as quickly pushing himself back up on shaky limbs at the sound of a guttural growl. Turning too fast, too soon, he looks up to find the alpha that had just been on him, ready to claim him, floating up above, aggressively throwing his body about in an attempt to get back down from where he’s up against the roof of the first floor. He’s stuck. Up high and far away.

“H-hey–you okay, Bakugou-chan?” a light, sweet voice chirps from his side. Face white as death and trembling fingers pressed together, a brunette omega stands over him, her watery chestnut eyes crescented in concern. “I-I…I tried to come sooner, but his scent was… so strong, and I–”

Katsuki turns back around and promptly hurls.

<>

Shouto’s eyes are still melting back to their heterochromatic state, silver returning to a stolid brown and a cold blue, even after an hour . Momo wants to reach out to him and offer something –a comforting hand or a kind word maybe–but she knows it’s not her place. A beta’s touch, voice, logic was the last thing anyone needed at the moment.

Kaminari Denki doesn’t seem to grasp that.

“Bro,” he says, breaking the silence that had overcome the class since All Might had dropped them off at their homeroom, sans Midoriya Izuku and two of the class omegas. Either not noticing or caring that he was suddenly the center of attention, every head in the class swerving towards him, he continued to snort and say, “Midoriya-san went Super Saiyan for some puss–”

“Do not finish that sentence, Kaminari Denki, so help me,” Kirishima Eijirou barks from where he’s pacing in a failing attempt to keep his pheromones from clogging up the room. While the redhead isn’t the only alpha drastically affected by the situation, he’s clearly one of the more unsettled ones, rivaling Shouto’s dominating scent with his own. Notably, he had chosen to stroll back and forth on the far side of the room opposite to the other alpha, as far away as he could get. 

Momo appreciates the gesture, as useless as it is. Shouto’s clearly far past the point that a few yards could sate his alpha if the shaking of his fists and quickening of his breaths were any indication.

Just who thought it would be a good idea to lock over a dozen dynamically charged teenagers in a room together?

“This isn’t the time for jest,” Iida Tenya quickly adds, echoing the other alpha. In an impressive feat of self control, he nods towards Kirishima in acknowledgment, seemingly unbothered by his aggressive pheromones despite the fact that he should be as an alpha himself. Momo only has a split second to admire him for it before he begins one of his newly familiar ( and dreaded ) lectures on justice and heroics. “The wounds of the recent event are still fresh in our hearts, and it wouldn’t be…” 

Momo couldn’t be blamed for tuning him out then. Everyone does.

He’s spoken over quickly by a snickering Mineta, who’s patting the electric beta on the lower back (as high up as he can reach) reassuringly. “Stop booing my boy, he’s right,” he insists in his high, high voice, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “’suki-chan was leading Midoriya-san on the entire match with those looks , hell, I can’t even blame Deku for flipping it. If a fine omega was looking at me with those eyes, I wouldn’t stop with just a mating bite, for sure.”

Kirishima’s scent thickens. Shouto’s eyes squeeze shut. Momo feels useless, following the conversation like it’s a ping pong match with the ball on fire and the table caving in.

“You’re sick in the head, Mineta,” Sero Hanta says after a pause in which everyone truly takes in what was just stated, what was just implied.  

Momo purses her lips. She was far from agreeing with Mineta (the little freak had more than a few screws loose), but if she squinted hard, she could understand his logic at least a little . There had been a moment during the match when Bakugou had seemed to have been egging Midoriya on. What else would you call the way he had fallen against him and batted his eyelashes so prettily?

It didn’t warrant what came after. But as a beta, she couldn’t help but look at the logic and pinpoint the cause of Midoriya’s actions. And as a friend of Shouto’s, she couldn’t simply ignore what his fated had done or the way the alpha had looked when it happened ( helplessness didn’t suit his features ). 

Though for a moment the more vocal of the class seemed to be agreeing with Sero’s statement, nodding along and inching their chairs away, the small alpha only puffs out his chest and laughs louder, not ashamed in the slightest.

And then Mina Ashido pipes in, twirling a sparking purple pen around her fingers in impressive flips and turns as she does. “He has a point though,” she muses, distractedly. Her own scent is light and fluffy, not putting up a fight against the other alpha’s the way Kirishima and Todoroki’s are, and Mineta’s weakly attempts to, instead simply existing about them. It’s a sharp contrast to her pointed words. “If Katsuki-chan hadn’t been all up on Midoriya-san, chest to chest, this all could’ve been avoided.” 

Kirishima turns sharply then, not allowing anyone the chance to react before his scent explodes again, hostile and aggressive. “We’re victim blaming now?” he demands heatedly, pacing coming to a halt so he can stare directly at the pink-skinned girl sitting so calmly. 

The ping pong table is trembling.

She raises her hands at the accusation in a half shrug. “Call it what you want, I’m just stating the facts.”

And then it crashes to the floor.

”--we should all be respectful of how we each decide to deal with this situation, everyone has their own responses to dynamic events. As your Class President, know I am here for you to reach out to if you need–”

“Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Midoriya-san started reconstructing the building–”

“He was seducing him. How else was Midoriya-san supposed to react?”

“As an alpha, Midoriya-san should’ve had more self control…”

“Bakugou-chan was asking for it , come on guys–”

Conversations overlapping, no one was even listening to one another anymore. Like a dam being released, the silence was wiped out as everyone attempted to get their say in and share their opinion on the matter, announcing who was right and who was wrong and which Pokémons Midoriya-san could beat up (because that was the most relevant information that could come out of this conversation according to Denki). All the while, scents were thickening and growls were starting to rumble.

Already, the betas of the class (minus Denki, who was currently debating with Mineta about Lucario’s chances of surviving a Texas Smash) had begun to exchange glances, uniting and preparing to step in in case a fight actually burst out. Satou and Tokoyami had inched closer to where Kirishima was advancing on a nonchalant Mina, red at the face and looking nearly betrayed as she continued to insist that both the alpha and omega were equally at fault. Asui took a protective stand before Iida and Momo found herself leaning a bit closer to Todoroki, taking careful note of his quickening breaths.

Someone growls, Momo doesn’t know who it is, but she knows what it means. She has Shouto’s wrist in a death grip within the same millisecond.

The table crashes to the floor.

Later, Asui, who had been the closest, explained that Kirishima had jolted forward slightly, causing Mina to jump up instinctually. Just a moment sooner and the second fist fight of the year would’ve broken out.

But then, like shards of ice slicing down through the winter air, a cold voice snarls out a demand for the whole room to, “Shut the fuck up.” 

As the only omega in the class at the moment, Jirou Kyouka had naturally taken a strategic position near the back of the room, surrounded by beta and as far as she could get from the more agitated alpha. Momo had taken note of where she had sat before leading Shouto as far away as they could get, not wanting to unnerve her anymore than she probably already was. It had to be jarring for an omega to see something like that–Uraraka Ochako had seemed on the verge of passing out on the screen, and Bakugou Katsuki had hurled. 

Jirou Kyouka looks far more annoyed than unnerved.

Dark eyes narrowed at the desk before her, the girl’s mouth set into a nasty scowl. The only indication that the situation had taken any toll on her was the tightness of her fist as she tugged her sweater, her alpha parent’s, so roughly over her shoulder. Not even her scent wavered.

Everyone’s mouths stayed pointedly shut, even the alphas, who had been on the verge of attacking one another a second before. 

“Who was right, who was wrong–who gives an actual fuck. That situation Should. Have. Never. Happened ,” Jirou Kyouka continued, spitting out the words through gritted teeth.  “All Might should’ve ended the fight the second it was taken to a dynamic level–and he didn’t. That’s the end of the story.”

“You can’t possibly be blaming the teacher for Katsuki-chan’s–” Mineta started with a roll of his eyes only to be quickly silenced by Jirou’s growl .

Momo’s eyes grow wide. She’s never heard an omega growl.

Just as betas aren’t supposed to comfort and intrude in dynamic moments like this, omegas aren’t supposed to growl . They’re supposed to console, soften, caress–everything she couldn’t, everything an alpha couldn’t. Not command .

“Damn straight I am,” she snaps. “Now the bell will ring in sixteen seconds, so why doesn’t everyone be good little pups, shut their traps and keep their paws to themselves so we can get the fuck out of here and over with this day.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kaminari salutes, seconds before he’s hit in the forehead with the pencil sharpener that had been nailed in the wall just a few moments before.

Shouto suffers silently under the growing tightness of Momo’s hold.

&

Sunset hugged the horizon, a golden glow sweeping across the forest leading up to UA, setting ablaze every other tree. Other than the whispers of the wilderness, the soft chatter of birds and the trembling of leaves in the breeze, the campus was quiet. A majority of students had already found their way home, rushing out of their seats and leaping through the hallways the second the bell rang. Deku had waited for him, tapping his foot nervously in one of the seats outside the nurses office.

The duo stood in a tense silence now, a long walk ahead of them and the hulking pearly walls of UA standing tall behind them. 

Katsuki’s knees feel weak. The bandages wrapped around his neck feel tight. 

Deku won’t meet his eyes.

“Kacchan, I–I want to–” Deku starts, rushing his words in the way that would normally make Katsuki growl at him to shut his annoying ass up . Now, he isn’t in the mood to do much of anything but tilt his head slightly in acknowledgement. The alphas’ voice only becomes more muddled and worried in response to it, clearly unnerved that Katsuki isn’t willing to bite back the way he always did before. “I-I wanted to apologize. I don’t know what got into me– I mean, I just–”

Katsuki tunes him out then in favor of watching the ground below.

Between being rushed to the nurses office by an exasperated Aizawa ( “Why is it always you?” he had asked around a yawn and Katsuki had barely managed to muster up a sneer ), and then held hostage by a nagging school nurse who insisted on checking him over no less than fifteen times in forty-four minutes, there hadn’t been much time to simply think and really grasp what this meant. That Deku on some instinctual, primal level, had wanted to take him as a mate.

But more importantly, that Deku looked down on him enough to hold back as much as he had. 

The Deku that fought him in sandpits and uselessly puppy-guarded him against their class was someone entirely different from the one who had nearly forcefully claimed him only hours ago. The Deku he knew was crinkled eyes, stumbled words and hesitant determination. He’d never met the strong, powerful one who could shove him into the ground and forcefully claim him if left unchecked. 

And that fucking hurt .

Katsuki had thought they were friends . That they’d keep each other updated on their big power ups and work together to become stronger. How far behind he had fallen in just a few months, the fact that he hadn’t even known it—that Deku had been growing stronger and stronger all this time and keeping him in the dark behind flustered smiles and twiddled thumbs–all of it left him betrayed and helpless . 

Deku couldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore. Had been staring at his red converse, a depreciating smile on his face, when the door to the nurses office opened, and hadn’t lifted them since. Not when Recovery Girl addressed them, asking if it really was okay for them to see each other again after what happened ( Katsuki had scoffed and walked away, Deku had followed) , and not now when he was fumbling his way through an apology.

Just how much did Deku look down on him? 

His bandages feel suffocating.

At the base of the cliff, he can just make out the form of his mother and father, standing in front of the car, squinting up at them. His mother had blown out one of Principal Nezu’s ears again with her shrill screeching, demanding to know the details of what happened and griping about the school’s administration. It was only until the phone had been passed to Katsuki and he had promised a grand total of twenty-seven times that he was fine, you fucking hag, get your hearing checked , that he managed to coax her out of blowing up his school. 

Somehow, Katsuki managed to worm his way out of sparing them the full details over the phone—like the minor fact that he had been nearly mated just that afternoon—and he thought he had until he got home to come up with what to say to them ( how to say it to them without breaking down midway ). But judging by the way his father has begun to hold his mother back, they can already tell. The bandaids and their placement are a clear giveaway, even from this far away.

Katsuki’s squeezes his eyes shut. His voice sounds weak even to his own ears.

“Get lost before my mom kills you,” he says, and when Deku stumbles a step closer rather than further away, “Fucking now, Midoriya .”

When he opens his eyes, Deku is gone. 

Chapter Text

&

Bakugou Mitsuki doesn’t kill Midoriya Izuku, but it’s a close call.

Auntie Inko shows up at their house only half an hour after they get home, trembling like a leaf and teary eyed. Amidst the screaming, Katsuki’s strangled assurances that he’s fine and that this isn’t a big deal and his mother’s enraged rebuttals that no, you aren’t fucking fine Kats, this isn’t fucking okay , she’s sorely out of place in their entryway. His father does his best to welcome her, to hear out her quivering apologies for as long as he can, but he’s an alpha just as much as his wife is, and it’s only so long that he can hold up his front of a peaceful host after hearing what happened.

In the end, his mother rounds on the green-haired omega, yelling things she doesn’t mean and will have to apologize for profusely later, and his father steps back, coolly watching it escalate. 

“Control your fucking mutt, Inko! If he comes so much as a few yards distance of my pup again I’ll fucking–”

Katsuki leads the other omega out before the words can get too harsh, too threatening, a consoling hand on her back. They part at the gate, and it isn’t until Inko reaches up and swipes her thumb against his cheek that he realizes he’d been crying just as hard as she was.

()

Sometimes, even several weeks after the incident, Momo will stare hard into his eyes, silent and calculating, observing the last flakes of gold that have yet to fade as if trying to make sense of them. 

Shouto doesn’t have the words to explain this to her either. That uncomfortable feeling he gets whenever Bakugou picks at the torturously slowly fading scar that mars his scent gland; the rage he feels whenever Midoriya stiffly and awkwardly crosses the front of his desk to get to his seat. He assumed that the course of time would do its job and eventually he’d be able to thread together some sort of explanation, some sort of defense , for why he felt this way about someone he should feel nothing about. But days pass, and classes drag on, and Shouto can only avert his gaze and dodge any questions the beta resolves herself to ask.

His dilemma isn’t the only thing that changes in the weeks following the battle drill.

Uraraka Ochako, the omega that had stopped the attempted mating before it could become legitimate, had taken to forcibly replacing Midoriya Izuku. From shoving past him in order to get to Bakugou’s side when it was time to pair up during partner work, to following the blonde around the lunch hall, chattering enthusiastically about gossip and lessons and nothing in particular, she had managed to block every attempt the alpha made to repair their relationship. And no matter how nasty the blonde omega was to her, what foul nicknames he came up for her or how he cursed at her for annoying him, she never relented–simply laughing and trading back her own sly insults casually.

They were an unlikely duo. The brunette had made a name for herself as a sweet omega–someone no one would expect to end up in the hero course , and Bakugou Katsuki couldn’t have been more the opposite, as loud mouthed and violent as he was. Momo said there was no point in trying to understand it anyway though. Supposedly, it was an omega thing , and Shouto could barely understand alpha things as it was. He wasn’t opening a new can of worms any time soon.

All Might had come to their class a week after the drill to apologize.

Not for almost allowing an attempted mating to happen during his lesson or acknowledge Uraraka for preventing the situation from derailing any further. No, instead, All Might apologized for making their first lesson so intense and promised to be careful with who he was pairing together for future lessons. 

Mineta Minoru said it was the only thing he had to apologize for. That it wasn’t his fault everything went awry. Jirou Kyouka told him to go fuck a chainsaw.

There was a clear divide in the class since. Visible in the way Ashido Mina and Kirishima Eijirou no longer spoke to one another, in the way Tsuyu Asui had convinced Midoriya Izuku to trade seats with her sometime in the second week after and suddenly the whole seating chart was being rearranged–pettily self-proclaimed victim blamers on one side, All Might antis on the other, and the pacifists somewhere in between. 

Their once friendly class, full of excited personalities and friendly chatter, was now a clash of opinions and thinly veiled glares. 

And Shouto honestly couldn’t care less.

The last thought on his mind was what Ashido or Kirishima thought of All Might now, or who Mineta blamed. It wasn’t as though he was planning on being friendly with his classmates in the first place after all—they were all his rivals—so this sudden divide didn’t really matter to him. 

Momo was hypersensitive to it–being surrounded by such social tension with no relief wasn’t good for any beta. Once, during a late night sleepover, she had explained to him how everyone needed to be comfortable around her or she just didn’t feel right. It was a beta thing , she’d said, voice tinged sour the way it always was when she spoke of “beta things”, you wouldn’t get it.  

He’d been concerned for her at first, but she insisted she was fine. 

Normally, that wouldn’t have been enough—Shouto had grown up with her, he knew how she could get about addressing everyone’s issues but her own—but it only took one day of eyeing her to realize that the class divide wasn’t troubling her much at all. She was distracted for an entirely different reason. Another can of worms, this one featuring a purple-haired omega who sat in the back of the class and didn’t have eyes for anyone but her phone. 

Since the class dynamic was the last of Shouto’s priorities, he didn’t quite understand why the entire class groaned at the thought of Iida setting up their bus seating chart for the USJ trip until he was in the vehicle. Wedged between a glowering Kirishima Eijirou and a fidgety Kaminari Denki.

Their Class President described himself as a pacifist, rising above all of their petty arguments and keeping his opinion to himself. Pointedly, he’d avoided offering up any comment on the situation beyond his initial spiel of coming to him if you need a listening ear , and sat himself in the dead center of the class during the seating chart rearrangement. 

Shouto thought it was all bullshit. If anything, the alpha was an instigator .

“Please let me move, Iida,” Sero moaned out, pitifully. “He’s watching porn .”

“Snitch!” an enraged Mineta shouted, eyes still on his screen. Where he was watching porn.

Not even a full second after, from a seat behind Todoroki, Midoriya’s nervous stutter interrupted what should’ve been a peaceful bus ride. “I’d like to move too!” the alpha pleaded, fear practically dripping from each syllable. 

Uraraka, at his side and smiling far too broadly, chirps out, “Scared, Midoriya?”

“Y-y-yes, v-very, actually.”

Uraraka’s laugh is the work of nightmares.

“Yeah, I am not sitting here,” Jirou added, to the sudden influx of people begging to be moved. Pausing where she had been drawing on her eyeliner (how she managed to do so in a shaking bus, Shouto couldn’t begin to understand–it was probably another omega thing ), she tilted her head up towards where their Class Prez stood above them all to level him with a glare. 

Mina Ashido simply smirks next to her. “Not a problem with me, more leg room that way!”

Shouto sighed as Kaminari fell over him in an attempt to reach out to Iida, blubbering about needing a listening ear and fearing for his life. Bakugou’s recently familiar angered rant had started up a few minutes ago at Aoyama Yuga–but in French (which wasn’t as beautiful a language as it was aggressive, Shouto was quickly finding with each angered shout). Mineta had turned up his porn in spite of Sero, and why was someone mooing in between moans?

So much for that peaceful bus ride.

After a few seconds of watching the trainwreck that was the class, their residential pacifist seemed to finally realize his mistake. Shouto took great pleasure in watching the way his face went from smug and proud of his genius plan, to completely blank beyond the telling pinkness of his ears. Watching Iida Tenya didn’t make up for the fact that he now had Kaminari Denki’s snot on his knee, but it brought him a little joy in these trying times at least.

Eventually, the Class President seemed to find his tongue, clearing his throat four times in an attempt to get the attention of his chaotic class, before finally just caving and cupping his hands around his mouth to shout. “There will be no seat swapping!” Only to get drowned out by cries of disapproval almost immediately after. Even louder, he shouted again, “we’ll be playing a game now!” But in a battle of noise against Class 1-A, the opponent would never win, and his instructions were lost somewhere between toi bête maman putain cunt and aah, mooo, I’m going to cum!

No opponent besides their homeroom teacher, at least.

Aside from a few passive aggressive comments between lessons, Aizawa hadn’t said much on the issue with All Might and attempted matings. Whether because he wasn’t allowed to or he was truly indifferent to the whole thing, it didn’t help with the class divide and all the tension. Really, he only stepped in when it got too loud for his nap schedule. Like now.

“Everyone shut up!” he barked. Rising from his seat like undead would from the grave, he slowly came to face the class with his exhausted glower. “Next time someone shouts, we turn this bus around.”

The silence was deafening–even Mineta had turned down his porno. Since its announcement, the USJ trip had been the cause for excitement amongst the class, no matter what they thought about All Might and matings or omegas. The chance to train in the facilities UA was known nationwide for, to get even a simulated experience of what it would be like in a few years for all of them, a taste of the future they longed for–it outweighed any of the dislike they had for one another. 

In this, they were all teammates again. And so, for once, Class 1-A shut up.

After five minutes, when it was deemed Aizawa was asleep once more, Iida cleared his throat. “The game,” he began, having to shh immediately after to cut off the series of groans arising at the thought. “People with only one seat buddy will be playing Would You Rather, while people with two will be playing Two Truths and A Lie, understand?”

No one understood, as evident by the shaking heads and tight frowns. But Iida paid them no mind, simply taking his seat next to Tokoyami and asking him if he would rather discover a new strain of Diphtheria or be the inventor of the catalytic converter. (Now Tokoyami understood less than everyone else).

It took the Class Prez threatening to wake Aizawa up for awkward conversation to spark up. In their own trio of seats, it was Kaminari Denki, eyes glued to the floor so he didn’t have to look up at Kirishima, who broke the silence.

“I broke my wrist once doing a cartwheel, I listen to Nightcore, and I won the Spelling Bee in—“

“You won the Spelling Bee,” both Kirishima and Todoroki said in unison, not even letting the beta finish the question.

The beta who blinked at first in confusion, before an offended look overcame his features. Crossing his arms over his chest, the electric blonde slumped back against his seat and glared, fear of the redheaded alpha melting away almost immediately in way for his indignance. “That was a bit too quick…”

“Spell the word ‘science’,” Kirishima said.

“S-I-E— why are you smirking?”

“I’m 5’11”, I dye my hair, and I wear contacts,” Kirishima said as opposed to answering. Halfway through the statements, he transferred his gaze from the gloomy Kaminari to Shouto, matching his gaze with the same steely determination he had for everything. His eyes were a bright red, far too loud for his tastes. They bothered Shouto.

He looked away and let Kaminari guess if the alpha was actually 5’11” or if the obnoxious red hair was a poorly chosen fashion choice, resigning himself to a full bus ride of discomfort he didn’t have the words to explain. 

&

“How wonderful that we share a language between us, Bakugou-chan,” Aoyama said for the fifth time, giggling all the while. “We may share our woes and our secrets without fear of a listening ear whenever we feel like—“

“Would you rather shut the fuck up or eat my fist?” Bakugou snarled, eyes glued to the window.

“Quelle décision difficile!” the imbecile exclaimed, tapping his finger against his chin as though actually considering which to choose. “I can’t imagine your fist tasting any good–not that you don’t smell–”

“ Fais gaffe .”

“Oh, you know I don’t mean it like that,” Aoyama mused, waving his hand as if to shake off the thought. With a glance shot in the direction of where Bakugou could feel Todoroki sitting, the French alpha smiled that wide smile of his. “I would shut ze fuck up! Now would you rather-”

“ Baguette Breath , if you don’t–”

^.^

“Uhm, Uraraka-chan, I don’t think this is how we’re supposed to play this game,” Midoriya started nervously. 

Uraraka tilts her head, faux innocent. “What do you mean?” she asked, in her sugary tone that was once sweet but now teeth-rotting. “This is my favorite game, of course I know how to play it. Now, send me those pictures, Izu-chan !”

Midoriya shivered before clicking send. He should’ve said he would’ve rather eaten a roach. Sending Uraraka his old embarrassing ballet pictures was definitely way worse than that. 

Uraraka smirked as her phone pinged , announcing more blackmail material for her stash. 

<>

Jirou Kyouka is silent the entire bus ride. Momo doesn’t know this because she was staring the entire forty minutes it took to get to the USJ, no, she had been observing everyone equally. It was a beta thing, non betas wouldn’t get it.

She’d noticed the way Sero slumped against the window of the bus and let out noncommittal hums to whatever Mineta told him, how Shouto was even more curt than normal when addressing his seat mates and kept zoning out in that way he always did now, how Uraraka was swindling Midoriya Izuku out of his dignity with each would you rather –cheating at a game she didn’t even know it was possible to cheat at. As a vice president, she’d made a note to speak to Iida about this idea later and break it down to him gently that this wasn’t the way to repair the broken relationship between everyone. Since he was an alpha, she’d stepped back and let him lead their plan to quell the tension, and naturally, she’d continue to, but first, she’d give him her observations. That’s what she was good at, after all, observing.

“Would you rather keep staring at Jirou or keep playing this game?” Asui Tsuyu asked, pointedly.

Blinking out of her stupor, where she’d watched Mina glance at the omega again out of the corner of her eye, she turned to face the other beta, carefully masking her indignation. “I’m watching everyone equally,” she said, peacefully.

Asui gave her a look . A look that betas normally reserve for dumb alphas and omegas who can’t see past their feelings and skip to the logic of a situation. Yaoyorozu Momo doesn’t deserve that look. “You could try talking to her, you know. I don’t think she’s the type to care for ogling.”

“I don’t understand what you’re implying.” Momo was painfully aware. Both of what Tsuyu meant, and how wrong such a thought was. 

Who was she, a beta who couldn’t offer an omega anything , who couldn’t be her fated one, to even imagine something like that . It was a dirty thought almost, that she could try and step in and try to play an alpha’s role. Jirou would probably be disgusted.

Tsuyu sighed, eyes turning to the ceiling. “God, this class. Lord help me,” she mutters, and Momo refuses to entertain the thought that that statement has anything to do with her at all whatsoever. 

Rather than continuing the game, she turns to watch where Jirou has raised her mirror again, checking her sharp eyeliner one last time. Momo doesn’t look away fast enough and for a fleeting second they match eyes.

It’s enough of a moment to imagine what could’ve been. How the dark, purple gaze would have flashed silver in the mirror suddenly, a stunning shade that would accentuate her features perfectly. Jirou would make for a pretty fated omega, with all the dark shades she normally wears, the ivory of her gaze would stand out. Her alpha was a lucky one.

Momo watches the road for the rest of the trip, ignoring Asui’s prayers for some higher power to smite their bus so she doesn’t have to suffer any longer and trying to convince herself that she had imagined the way Jirou’s dark eyes had crinkled the slightest bit.

&

You couldn’t pay Katsuki all the money in the world to admit this, but talking to Aoyama wasn’t as horrible as anticipated.

Since the Battle Drill incident, Katsuki has had a bit of a dilemma. Not that he’d ever acknowledge the issue out loud, but in his head, he knew it was a problem he’d eventually have to deal with and work on. You couldn’t exactly be a ProHero if it unnerved you to talk to a good third of the population, after all.

It was why he put up with Uraraka and all her nagging. She understood without him ever having to say it and didn’t balk away at his harsh attitude. (She was stronger than anyone took her for–and nicer to him than he deserved, really).

Talking to alpha had never been an issue for him like it was for some other omega. In junior high, he could distinctly remember some teachers warning about what a struggle it could be to interact with the golden dynamic as they were transitioning and becoming more omega . They claimed that it was a natural thing for young omegas to skirt around alphas of all ages, becoming shy and timid–it was a primal instinct, something that kept prehistoric omegas safe and out of harm's way.

There had never been anything shy or timid around Katsuki, and there probably never would be. But he didn’t know what else could cause the way he was suddenly unnerved by every alpha to

come within a five foot radius of him besides something primal . Katsuki wasn’t afraid of anything , and yet, recently, his vision’s become hazy and his breath has quickened every time anyone of the upper dynamic crosses by him too quickly or their scents surround him.

Aoyama’s scent was muted, and after their conversation had passed the point of Katsuki brooding and yelling at him to shut up, he admitted it was because of his cologne. With a sly grin, he said it was a good way to control his scent, to block it from becoming overpowered, without using scent blockers. Katsuki, who had taken to wearing his parent’s old jerseys and sweatshirts since his falling out with Midoriya, had asked for the brand name through pursed lips. Aoyama had been more than happy to tell him.

He also kept his distance. The seats were snug enough that they could’ve brushed up against each other more than once with nothing but the bumps in the road to blame for it, and yet, Aoyama didn’t touch him once the entire bus ride. Baguette Breath was practically teetering on the edge of his seat, and there was more than enough room for him to scoot closer, and yet he kept the few inches between them. Whether it was because he respected the fact that he was mated, or that he had some sort of chauvinistic ego to suit, Katsuki couldn’t find it in himself to care. Aoyama had been more than happy to give him space .

As for the conversation itself, while half of it was spent with the omega yelling at him to shut up and be quiet, the other half was decent . Aoyama hadn’t asked about anything too personal, or mentioned the Half ‘n Half annoyance or Midoriya beyond a split-second glance every now and then, and that was better than the rest of their class seemed to be capable of these days. Not to mention, Katsuki hadn’t used his French since his parent’s Fashion Week last year, and it was nice to freshen up on it.

Naturally, he told Uraraka none of this when she came up beside him the second they got off the bus and asked how the ride went. Instead of answering he gave her a simple grunt that she smirked at in an all too knowing way \and stomped ahead of her to make it into the shining USJ training facilities first.

Surrounded by sea, nearly the same shade of blue as the glass of the building, the dome structure stood as tall and proud as the UA campus. The purple walls were fortified, but not to keep out potential attackers ( what dumbass would attack a facility that had heroes running in day and night? ), to protect the surrounding metropolis from the training that went on inside. Katsuki couldn’t help but smile up at it, remembering interviews of heroes who had spoken fondly of the training facility from their school days and how it was an essential part to their growth.

Inside the facility was even more awe-inspiring. Several other smaller domes, a red and a green and an orange once, were scattered across the ground floor, each surrounded by different

common disaster scenes. From a city crumpling in on itself, the buildings collapsing against each other like toy blocks, to an ocean with half a ship peeking out of its surface, the USJ had it all.

Since the first battle drills, Class 1-A had been stuck doing sheet work, not permitted to do anything beyond a few exercises and individual quirk drills. Katsuki had been itching for this trip, this chance to finally actually practice what they needed to again, for the past week. And not even a few uncomfortable feelings about the various alphas of the class would sedate his feelings. Nothing would be getting in the way of him and his chance to knock out a few goons, even fake ones .

But then Thirteen is interrupted mid spiel about the importance of rescue by some no name villain with a teleportation quirk and he’s moving before his brain has a chance to catch up with what he’s doing. And then he sinks his fist into a black cloud, and the class is screaming and scattering, and the last thing Katsuki registers is the strong scent of a familiar redhead alpha that makes his head go hazy before everything is black . 

Can they please get a normal field trip?

Chapter Text

!

Izuku used to believe he had fate figured out down to the science of it.

And then one day he walked up to his best friend’s door with his hands clasped tightly behind his back and sweat soaking his shirt. When he knocked, it wasn’t Kacchan, with his vibrant eyes or his hair that captured the sun answering—it was fate . There to tell him he had everything wrong. There to ignore all the math and logistics he had puzzled out. To  laugh in his face about how he thought he could predict something so unpredictable . 

Fate had only kept surprising him since then. 

Midoriya had made up his mind about eventually being Bakugou Katsuki’s mate, just as he’d made up his mind about eventually being a Pro-Hero. Kacchan’s parents weren’t fated, and Izuku  had never put much thought into sappy love stories the way he did action-packed ones. The idea of soulmates and letting fate decide things for him had never appealed to him. So just as he’d work his ass off to eventually be a Pro-Hero, he decided to take hold of his destiny and grow into someone that would be able to stand by Kacchan. Just as having a quirk would’ve made the road to Number One a lot easier, being fated to Kacchan would’ve made their paths to mating easier, but it didn’t make it impossible. 

Fate had laughed in the face of his resolve.

Meeting All Might—his idol, his hero, his fantasy— had changed a lot of facets in Midoriya Izuku’s life. 

There was the expected change. Ever since swallowing one of those golden locks of glorious hair (and throwing up twice before he finally managed to keep it down), he’d miraculously stopped being quirkless. Not only could All Might plummet all danger, but he could swoop into a poor, bullied middle schooler’s life and do the impossible. Within a few weeks, Izuku went from being the butt of jokes, someone people glanced at with pity whenever he went on his fanboy rants, to somebody . Someone with potential. A future pro-hero in the making—but this time, with people who actually believed in him .

He was still getting used to it, coming to terms with how different his life was now. How he was no longer a victim, but a savior. How he was no longer poor, delusional Deku, but cool, powerful Deku. How his path to becoming the Number One had suddenly become so much easier than it had been before. It was pretty sweet.

The unexpected changes on the other hand, not so much.

“With great power comes great responsibility ,” All Might had told him, only a few months after passing on his powers. Izuku had pointedly decided not to tell him that he knew he stole the quote from Spider-man . The Number One hero had looked so proud saying it.

At the time, Izuku had assumed All Might had been referring to the quirk. All For One sure was powerful enough to warrant some Uncle Ben level advice, and the green-haired alpha had taken the sentiment to heart. He was supposed to use his power for good, and never for his own selfish desires. And he intended to hold true to that, to be careful about who he fought and why, of who he unleashed his powers on.

A few weeks after—after a battle with Kacchan, a rumble in his chest and an unsated desire, a quivering omega in his arms—All Might disclosed the true meaning of the phrase.

“You’re an alpha, Midoriya-shounen,” All Might explained a day after the fight when Kacchan was avoiding him and Izuku’s head wouldn’t stop hurting. “Before, you were an alpha without a quirk. But now you’re an alpha with a quirk. A powerful quirk. You have to use it responsibly.”

Not on omegas.

Not on Kacchan .

Getting a quirk forced some unexpected self evaluation onto Izuku. He was forced to face the facts of what he wanted , who he wanted . And how unreachable Bakugou Katsuki was.

Even now, when he was finally powerful enough to stand with him, when he finally had a quirk that could battle against him fairly, he was out of reach. Fated to the first alpha he bumped into on their first day of classes, the son of the second-ranked Pro-Hero who was born and raised powerful, Kacchan wasn’t available anymore. Kacchan wasn’t his and would never be his .

Fate had been dying of laughter the day Kacchan’s eyes flashed silver. And it’d been laughing since, when Izuku tried to force himself to support them, tried to accept the fact that he had no control over his own destiny. Laughing all the way to now, when Izuku had tarnished their relationship over some stupid alpha instincts that just wouldn’t let go of the fact that Kacchan wasn’t his. And he’d never be his.

!

Izuku broke the surface of the water with a gasp, gulping down air as fast as possible to try and refill his lungs.

At his side, over the sound of his own gasping, he heard Mineta’s own struggling sounds and groaned internally. 

Since the battle drill incident, the purple-haired alpha had declared himself Izuku’s number one supporter and attempted to glue himself to his side. The small alpha seemed to believe though they shared some sort of sick comradely, convinced the battle drill incident was  some sort of display meant to highlight the hypocrisy of modern day omega–or whatever it was that he was always going on about.

No matter what Izuku said about feeling horrible about the whole thing, and how it was on him for not controlling his instincts well enough, the smaller classmate had gotten it into his head that they were on a team against the world. Some sort of incel brigade against omegas of all kinds. 

It made Izuku sick that he was now in the same league as people like Mineta. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Midoriya-shounen,” All Might said, patting his shoulder consolingly. “It was bound to happen. Katsuki-chan is an attractive omega, and he was teasing you. You can’t be expected to control your instincts in a situation like that. Having such a powerful quirk complicated things.”

“Are you two okay?” comes a flat voice from their other side, where Asui Tsuyu watches them calmly. With her quirk, it’s only natural that she’s able to wade the water so naturally, unlike the panicked way Mineta is floundering about a few feet away from her. Though Izuku suspects, even if she hadn’t been part amphibian, she would be just as cavalier in a dangerous situation like this anyway. 

Despite the deadpanness of her tone, Izuku has known her long enough to know she means it sincerely. Of the class beta, she’s the one that fits the stereotype the most–straightforward and direct, to the point. When she’d asked him to exchange spots with her after the battle drill incident, she’d been open with her reasoning, not sparing his feelings as she explained it was to try and mend the class dynamic a bit. And yet still, she never looked at him with judgment either, entirely neutral, Deku had no idea what her opinion even was.

Izuku finds himself nodding, despite the fact that he’s still trying to find his footing in the water. He isn’t a bad swimmer, but he isn’t advanced either, and there wasn’t a chance he’d be able to keep himself steady above the waves and chat at the same time. 

Quick to realize this as well, Asui nods to a point behind Izuku. “There’s a ship up ahead. I think the villains claimed it as their own, but with the three of us here, we could probably sneak on it somehow.”

“Right,” Izuku agreed, turning to stare up at the hulking head of the ship before them. 

From their vantage point, it’s hard to see much of anything besides the tops of a few people’s  heads, but the back of the ship looks empty enough that they could successfully sneak on if they’re quiet enough. Side-eying where Mineta gurgles quite loudly, Izuku worries on his bottom lip.

Mineta bleeds when he loses too many of the balls on his head.

Izuku and Asui find that out the hard way, midway up the ship when the boy finally comes back to his senses and starts screaming about how bad his head hurts, alerting all of the villains on the ship of their whereabouts. They’re high enough that reaching the top isn’t an issue, and make quick work of the villains, but Mineta doesn’t shut up about the pain even after they’re safely on the ship and he’s all bandaged up.

“We can’t do much about it now, so there’s no point crying,” Asui told him, objectively, patting the purple head that only has a single ball remaining. 

Mineta flinched away from her, cupping his head in his hands protectively. “Back off!” he sniffed, shuffling closer to Midoriya who had taken just as many, if not more, of the balls from his head. “You beta can be so inhumane ! Some of us have feelings and experience pain, you know!”

Asui raises an eyebrow, and then says, again, objectively calm: “I feel pain and have emotions. I’m just not a whiny baby about a little blood.” Mineta squawks in rage, but by that point, the beta has already changed the topic. “You can see most of the arena from here, do you think all of our classmates also ended up in simulations like ours?”

Far from the glory it was when Class 1-A first walked into it, the USJ is a wreck and a half. Structures implode in on themselves and smoke smogs the once clear air. Cracks spider-web across the glass roof of the structure and even the impenetrable walls have been… well, penetrated . Screams, shouts and explosions alike all clutter the air now that Midoriya listens properly, and he can only hope no harm is coming to the rest of their class.

Mineta clears his throat from where he grovels at Midoriya’s knees, staring up at the other alpha with pitiful eyes. “Katsuki-chan and Kirishima-san probably ended up in the same spot… I saw them jump together into the black hole…” he reassured, and Midoriya’s heart clenched in his chest as he remembered . 

He hadn’t been fast enough. Kirishima had been just a step quicker, ready to jump into danger the way heroes were supposed to . Ready to protect the omega the way Izuku was supposed to . 

He knows Kacchan is safe with him at least. Kirishima has a strong quirk and a stronger backbone, but that doesn’t negate the fact that it should’ve been him .

A quirk as strong as his and he couldn’t even jump into danger to save an omega? It felt like all he’d done so far war harm Kacchan. 

”It’s not your fault,”  the All Might in his head reassured. ”You’re learning, Midoriya-shounen. Dealing with omega is no easy feat, even for the oldest of us.”

“Yeah, hopefully the rest of our class is safe too,” Asui said, flatly, but at that point, neither Midoriya or Mineta are listening to her. With a roll of her eyes, she throws her webbed hands in the air, muttering out a despondent, “ This class .”

&

“Oh-ho-ho, that doesn’t sound very heroic!” Shitty Hair chirps from behind him, after Katsuki has finished exploding a goon with a signature shout of ‘ die!’ Katsuki decides to take back every good thing he’d ever thought about the idiot.

Which is a lot. Of good things.

With all the commotion going on since that time the redhead had defended him from Ashido’s borderline harassment, the omega hadn’t had much time to spare considering what the alpha’s deal was, but that didn’t mean he didn’t manage to cram those thoughts in. Thoughts swarmed his mind about the redhead and the easy way he defended the omegas of the class and looked to them with respect. Actually meeting their eyes and engaging in conversation with them that wasn’t hinging on perverted topics. Somehow never making Katsuki feel the anxiety he felt around all other alpha; somehow making him feel comfortable instead of clam up the way he had a tendency to do lately. 

Of course, all of Katsuki’s thoughts were observational. Objective.

Unfortunately, looking at it objectively, Kirishima was very much Katsuki’s type as far as his past dating history went. 

Spiky red hair, and a sharp grin–Kirishima practically oozed in delinquency. He was one step away from being everything Katsuki had ever gone after, with his strong quirk and bulging physique, and quite a few steps past being the type that would give his parents a seizure if they ever saw him ( exactly the way he liked his alpha ). 

And horribly enough, he went further. Unlike all of Katsuki’s past crushes, who’s personalities were all bark and bite and everything in between, Kirishima was amiable and kind. A golden retriever in a pitbull’s body. Quick to defend his beta and omega classmates and just as quick to actually listen to everything they had to say, acknowledging them as equals despite the class dynamics standing between them, he was respectful . He didn’t look down on anyone or call anyone cute nicknames. And he seemed to genuinely care about learning more about the struggles other dynamics faced, rather than scoffing at them and claiming everyone was getting too sensitive these days.

It was horrible for Katsuki’s state of being. Made his body heat up to an uncomfortable degree and his body break out into even more sweat than normal (which was an actual danger hazard for everyone around him). Made his throat go dry and his ability to think fly out the window. The blonde almost would’ve preferred Kirishima just to make him jumpy the way other alphas were these days. He’d rather admit he was borderline scared of Kirishima than that he had some sort of whatever this was for him.

When Katsuki realized that he hadn’t been the only person to jump forward into the smoke, that Kirishima Eijirou had been at his heels ( of course, because the alpha was heroic and brave and of course, he’d jump into danger to save the class, of course ), his mood immediately turned for the worse. Each villain got just a twinge extra bit of fire than they probably deserved to deal with, and he had been extra creative with his insults and threats. Sad attempts to distract himself from the way droplets of sweat had begun to run down Kirishima’s hardened body behind him.

“--kugou- san ,” Hardened Body says, not for the first time, judging by the concern in his tone. Blinking up towards the redhead, Katsuki finds the alpha grimacing, hand outstretched towards him in a failed attempt to get his attention. “...I think she’s down…”

Down the goon was. Katsuki stared blankly down at the originally sunflower yellow-skinned goon he’d been up against, who now looked more orange than anything with the amount of blood spilling out of her wounds. The omega withdrew his hands slowly. Would he get in trouble for beating her up too hard? Serves her right for attacking a group of kids, but still . At least she was still breathing—

There was a bead of sweat sliding down Kirishima’s arm as the alpha reached his arms up into a stretch .

Katsuki doesn’t notice when he steps on the now-orange goon’s arm as he backs up towards the other wall to try and collect himself and clear his thoughts. He doesn’t notice much until Kirishima clears his throat awkwardly, landing him a concerned look. 

“You okay, Bakugou-san? You don’t look too hot,” the redhead said. “Did you get injured? I don’t know a lot of first aid but I can wrap you up if you need banda–”

“ Fine ,” Katsuki choked. Trying very hard not to think about Kirishima Eijirou, a roll of bandages and barely a few centimeters of distance between them. How fucking close is my heat? As though to convince himself, he repeated: “I’m fine . Let’s just–Let’s get the fuck out of here, it smells like blood and someone’s piss.”

Nodding dubiously, Kirishima gestured for him to lead the way.

Outside is a battlefield. An ear-piercing shriek from the left confirms that Mineta’s in that boat on the lake, and a huge wall of ice jutting up in the distance reveals where the Half ‘n Half idiot is. Something settles in Katsuki’s chest upon seeing it, something that he doesn’t want to acknowledge as anything but an appreciation that his classmates weren’t portaled off to Mexico or the darkside of the Moon.  His head is already in knots as it is thinking about Shitty Hair trudging along beside him, all he allows himself to focus on is that they’re near and protecting themselves. They’re safe . He tears his gaze away from the ice tower and marches onward.

The alpha has opened his mouth several times in their march towards the entrance of USJ, an unspoken agreement between them that they’re going to finish the fight they started , but when he does finally break the silence, it’s not for anything Katsuki is expecting.

Kirishima dusted off his hands and cleared his throat awkwardly. Hesitating a second longer, as though he’s planning to cowardly shut his mouth again, he finally clenches his fist and gets out with it. And Katsuki would be lying if he wasn’t nearly swooning on his other side, half convinced Kirishima is about to burst out a love confession or ask him on a date in spite of all the drama and complications. 

It’s not the most romantic of places, but Katsuki isn’t a hard omega to please. Anyone next to the Half and Half idiot would shine ( who wore khakis to a meet the parents dinner, really!? ). Really, anyone next to any of the people Katsuki has ever fooled around with would shine, if he was being honest. Most of his first dates happened in the junior school lunch hall–a battlefield was a big update to that. Or at least, that’s what Katsuki tells himself as he slows to a stop next to the alpha, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to quell his nerves.

That’s what he insists to himself as he realizes that something just feels so off . So wrong .

Blinking up at him with his red eyes, so bright and loud, Kirishima finally speaks. “So, your parents.”

Katsuki blinked out of his stupor. “My parents? The fuck .”

“I just mean–” Kirishima flushed suddenly, glancing away. Katsuki’s head is spinning at a mile a minute, trying to catch up with the sudden switch in the mood, but it doesn’t take long at the sound of the next stuttered words. “Sorry bro. Just with your quirk, when we were fighting back there, it just reminded me that you said your parents were both alpha that one time.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. 

He knew it was too good to be true. Katsuki had met his fair share of bigots who automatically assumed he was hiding some sort of birth defect or was, “ god forbid ” – infertile. He’d had another kid ask him in grade school if his parents were abusive–to each other and to him. And then the counselor in junior high pulled him aside numerous times to ensure that there was nothing going on at home… I promise I do this for all of my students, Katsuki-chan, I’m not singling you out . Of course, Kirishima was an avid omega supporter–but he drew the line at inner dynamic dating, referring to the prehistoric standards that insisted on alpha being with omega and beta being with beta.

Huffing in a breath, Katsuki shook his head, preparing to stomp in another asshole the second Kirishima said anything blatantly out of line. And to think, just a second ago he was awaited a love confession like some sort of ditzy little kid. Serves him right for expecting anything to go right in his love life. “What about it?” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Sure, his mom was abrasive. His dad was a bit of a pushover. But they loved him and they raised him to the best of their ability. They’d guarded his door the entirety of his first heat and overflooded him with enough pillows and blankets to rebuild Ranikot Fort. Whenever they didn’t understand something omegan, they researched non stop. They got some things wrong and were overprotective at times–but they never thought any less of him for his dynamic. They never treated him presenting as an omega like it was a surprise. And they never blamed his overflowing emotions or the fact that he was softer or some other bullshit whenever he was acting amiss. Katsuki imagined that he would’ve been raised the exact same way he had now if he presented alpha. 

And he wouldn’t let anyone claim his parents were any less for it.

As though sensing where his line of thought had headed towards, Kirishima was quick to throw up his hands, eyes widening as he shook his head fervently. “No– wait , it’s not what you’re thinking at all!” he insisted, face darkening even further. “I was just commenting–”

“I got it,” Katsuki said, shaking his head in disgust. Inner dynamic relationships were only starting to become more accepted, but their generation was at the forefront of that movement. Kirishima should know better, especially with all he knew about omegan rights movements. And yet here he was, thinking he had any right to comment on Katsuki’s parents. 

Stomping forward a bit more dramatically than the situation called for ( in hindsight, maybe he was just as bad as his parents as far as overprotectiveness went ), he headed off to finish the fight on his own terms, deciding to tune out Shitty Hair. He was no better than the other stupid extras of the class. And to think, he had Katsuki convinced he was any better.

“No, no–you don’t,” Kirishima shouted after him, before he could. Running up beside him, slightly out of breath, the alpha shook his head harder. “I would never mean it like that –I think it’s cool!”

Katsuki blinked and suddenly Kirishima was raving in that overenthusiastic way of his. “I mean, it’s awesome they’re breaking past norms like that. No one should judge someone else for loving who they want, when they want. It’s so manly .”

Hands flailing around himself in enthusiasm, Kirishima shined, the blush fading from his face into a light pink. The words didn’t stop, tumbling out of his mouth like water unleashed from a dam, but Katsuki had stopped listening. His own eyes widening, his face heating up, Katsuki watched Kirishima rave about his parent’s relationship, their love , like he hadn’t seen before. With approval, with celebration, with acceptance.

Smiling softly, Katsuki waited for a lull in the alphas’ words before he finally spoke. “My parents are good people. They just happen to be alphas that fell in love. And some people act like that’s some grave sin or a mistake, but I’m no fucking mistake.”

Kirishima smiled back, small and soft and considerate. “No,” he said, quietly. “No, you’re not at all.”

Katsuki’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

<>

Since the bus ride, Yaoyorozu Momo does a pretty good job of getting rid of every thought she has about Jirou Kyouka. For a grand total of twenty-three minutes.

But then it gets significantly harder when a villain apparates before them and she’s stepping towards the omega without even fully registering the movement. Before she can so much as consider what she planned on doing, the whole world turns black and she’s blinking back to focus in front of a rocky terrain with Kaminari Denki on one side and the object of her current distractions on the other. 

The beta figures it’s only fair that she thinks about the other girl slightly more than Kaminari Denki, who was just another beta. Omegas were meant to catch attention after all, so she was practically forced to glance over every now and then to check up on Jirou Kyouka. And the constant looks had nothing to do with the way Jirou had done something with her eyelashes on the bus that made them more long and wispy. Nothing at all to do with the fact that her lips pouted in frustration every time Kaminari made so much as a single sound.

As they were now, after Kaminari had said something about the rock formations around them looking like Kirishima if you squint hard enough–soft, pink and full, like petals of a cherry blossom. Parting as though they were blooming every time the omega said a single word. 

“Yaoyorozu-san…” the petals pulled apart to say, and then a bit more insistent, more irritated, “ Yaoyorozu-san .” 

Momo blinks into focus to find Kaminari Denki studying her with a smirk twisted onto his face, a knowing look glinting in his eyes that she didn’t like at all. At his side, Jirou is squaring her an unimpressed expression of her own, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed. Momo’s face heats up. 

“I…” she said, and she what? Got distracted staring at her mouth?

Jirou waved her off before she could finish the thought, already striding ahead of the group. The tips of her ears are red, and Momo wonders why for a split second, if maybe it was too cold for her even with her father’s jacket thrown over her shoulders, but then the omega turned back to face them and speak again. Momo stares very hard at the rocks that do kind of resemble Kirishima now that she’s focusing on  them. “I’ve been listening in on the villains. They have us surrounded right now and are bracing themselves to attack the second we reach that rock over there.”

Jirou doesn’t point or even look, but Momo knows with a single glance which structure she’s talking about. The one they’re walking towards at a moderate pace right now. Before Kaminari’s arm swings completely up to point at it, Momo nudges him with her elbow and he drops his limb with a pitiful whimper.

“I have a plan, so if we can all focus for a few seconds–” she stares at Momo as she says this, but her eyes are crinkled in amusement rather than any actual annoyance. The beta gulps and glances away. “--we can get through this easily. Ready to listen ?”

Momo nods even though she can’t hear much over the sound of her own heart racing. 

Chapter Text

()

Originally, the plan had been to let the trio of villains finish their spiel to gather more information. But Shouto had never been the best with patience, and after the twenty-third minute of the rambled explanations, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Aoyama and Hagakure give him a standing ovation after he turns the trio of villains into a large block of ice midway into the beaked-faced woman explaining how “the other kids at school bullying her for eating gum off the bottom of tables” justified “plans to massacre and maim the entirety of society” . Hagakure even shouts ‘they should’ve bullied you harder, bubblegum freak!’ at the woman’s frozen face as they walk past her. Snorting, Shouto can’t help to feel kindred in that moment to the girl he rarely noticed in class ( could he really be blamed for that though? She was literally a floating shirt and skirt most days ).

That kinship immediately evaporates when an invisible weight is slung over his shoulder and she asks: “Todoroki-kun, babe , what’s the tea with your fated?”

Why is it never ‘hello’? How are you, Todoroki? What do you think about the political and economic state of the world right now? 

It’s not like his every waking moment has to do with Bakugou Katsuki. Sure, the blonde occupied a good 33% of his thoughts (56%, if he was being honest), but Shouto had other things going on in his life. Like the fact that he, alongside his entire class— including an inaptly giddy Hagakure Toru— were taken hostage by a league of villains in unfamiliar territory. The last thing he wanted to focus on was his current headache when their entire class was scattered with no means of contacting one another.

Shrugging off the weight, Shouto purposefully sped up his pace. If they were quick enough, they’d make it to the main area of the arena to offer backup to Aizawa before he bled out. There was a bit of distance between them and the teacher– and a literal mountain– and the alpha refused to spend that time slowed down by questions of the fating and what he thought of Midoriya Izuku calling Bakugou ‘Kacchan’ (which he didn’t think about. At all, ever). 

Still, Todoroki Shouto had been instilled with polite manners. Since he was younger, he’d been trained in propriety and was expected to be polite to strangers and acquaintances. To Momo, who he knew well, he could get away with responding to her with a frown or halfhearted glance. The beta knew well enough not to take his laconic nature offensively, and he never had to worry about minding his occasionally caustic words around her. But to Hagakure– someone he’d never said a word to outside of a casual can a borrow a pencil? He couldn't just stalk off and ignore her without being considered rude. Already, the beta seemed to be a bit miffed. Even if she was invisible, he could practically see her shoulders droop and the narrowing of her eyes. 

Clearing his throat, he eventually decided on the better point of focus. “What’s tea,” he said more than asked. It was a decent bone to throw her– a question he’d harbored since a few days ago after Mina came into class announcing that ‘ the tea is piping hot ’. When Momo admitted she was parched and asked for a sip, the class burst into laughter. Later, after faking a weak smile for the other students, Shouto agreed with the beta that he had no idea what was so funny about requesting a drink. 

A sparkling ( how did he do tha t) blonde appeared on his other side with an exaggerated gasp. “‘What’s tea’ , he asks!” the French hero exclaimed, a dramatic hand against his chest. 

Shouto would’ve written it off as another one of Aoyama’s many strange quirks if not for Hagakure’s own squeak of surprise. “Todoroki-kun! How cute! You poor, technologically-challenged, boomer-minded, little thing!”

Shouto squinted. He was pretty sure there were several insults ladened within that statement but Hagakure said it with such genuine sincerity and cheer it was hard for him to figure out how to take it.

In the end, he’s just barely deciding on being offended when she continues. “I bet he doesn’t even know how to TTUITS !”

“He probably can’t even UWTHWRS!” Aoyama agreed, nodding solemnly.

Shouto blinks heavily. Slowly but surely, he’s beginning to think this was a mistake. Maybe speaking about Bakugou would’ve been the better option. At least then his head wouldn’t be spinning with letters that didn’t connect and how they had anything to do with a beverage.  “…Right.”

“OTPT,” Aoyama cooed. Shouto sped up just a bit more.

Now jogging to keep up, there’s a pant in Hagakure’s voice when she pipes in again. Shouto almost feels bad for her clear struggle to keep up with the alphas’ longer legs, but then he hears her explanation and nearly breaks into a jog himself. “ Tea is Midoriya-san’s big, fat crush on Katsuki-chan! Or my mom’s new boyfriend being her sister’s ex husband! Or–”

“ Eh– Your mom’s new boyfriend is your sister’s ex husband!?” Aoyama interrupted. And Shouto prayed they could stick to that example, but like a demon, Hagakure only hums in agreement before continuing happily.

“Yes! And they only divorced like a month ago– crazy, right?” she reported in a pleased tone. Shouto wasn’t sure what part of a statement like that warranted any type of pleased tone , but he didn't get the chance to question her on it before she continued. “One last example! Tea is why you haven’t staked your claim on your omega, Todoroki-san!”

“Not my omega,” Shouto corrected, the words coming out almost instinctively. Instant regret hits him when Aoyama grimaces and Hagakure squeaks even louder than before. Shifting his gaze away from them, he’s sorry to find that the distance between them and the center of the arena hadn’t decreased even slightly. This was going to be a long walk. “I don’t really understand how your mom’s love life connects with me and Bakugou, anyway.”

“Not the point– what do you mean not your omega, Todoroki-san? Could you have rejected him?! How scandal – ”

Surprisingly, it’s Aoyama to interrupt her, scratching the back of his neck and chuckling nervously. “Hagakure-san, maybe we should talk about something else. Like your mom and her ex-brother in law! I mean, does that count as incest?”

Shouto was more than willing to dive into a conversation about the semantics involved in in-laws, even if he couldn’t care less. Bringing up tea had led him directly back to what he’d been hoping to avoid, and he hadn’t even gotten an explanation to give Momo beyond ‘code word for talking about his mess of a fating.’ There was no winning with this class. Everything led back to Katsuki.

Just the other day Mina had turned a conversation about their English essay into an interrogation about what he thought of Bakugou’s hero costume . Mineta couldn’t say more than five words to him without two of them being your omega or Katsuki-chan . Even All Might , the renowned Pro Hero , hadn’t said anything to him directly beyond the moments after the disastrous Battle Drill when he told him “being an alpha will be hard with an omega like that, Todoroki-shounen” .

At this point he wished the fating had never even happened. He couldn’t understand what had fooled fate into thinking that he and Bakugou Katsuki could’ve ever been a good match. What had made fate want to intrude on his life at such an important time , when had just made his first step towards defeating his father. Shouto had never even wanted an omega in the first place. Bakugou Katsuki was a curse, a stroke of bad karma, a bad roll of a dice. And Shouto was sick of him coming in and eroding every part of his life from his family to his everyday conversations between his classmates.

(And a smaller part of him was sick of the false hopes . The stupid idea that maybe, maybe, maybe they could be something when clearly Bakugou Katsuki was just as sick of this mess as he was).

“Yeah. I did.” The words are out of Shouto’s lips before he can even think them over. He wasn’t an alpha for impulsive actions or motions, but it seemed that every time a blonde, hotblooded omega was involved, all his cool was thrown to the wind. And anyway, it wasn’t like Katsuki would disagree with anything he was saying. If they even communicated, at all, that was. 

Still, as true as they were, the words almost hurt to say aloud when he announced: “And he wasn’t interested in me either– so drop it .” 

“I can’t raise him anymore. I have to get away from here– I can’t stand to even look at him. He’s too much like his father, I need to–”

“Oh…” Hagakure breathed, weakly.

Judging by the way even Aoyama comes to a halt at that, the words weren’t much in line with his normal standards of propriety. But Shouto supposed he could get away with some level of cruelty if they got to pick apart his life without even knowing him . 

Keeping his pace, Shouto continued onto the centerfield in silence. Eventually, Hagakure and Aoyama’s steps join him again, but there is no more discussion or attempts to explain tea or insane acronyms.

“You’re an alpha. Just like your father, Shouto. Everyday I’m scared you’ll end up just like him.”

:

As an alpha, protection was one of his main responsibilities. As an instructor, it was his main responsibility.

Oozing out blood on the cement before the villains, Aizawa was less in pain because of his physical injuries than he was the mental hurdles he was currently tumbling through. Only a few weeks into classes and he lost all his students to a deranged set of enemies. Before he’d even realized what was happening, the kids had vanished from existence right before his eyes.

All it would’ve taken was a simple look to stop the shadow-y man. If he’d just been paying a bit more attention— if he hadn’t been dozing off until Bakugou and Kirishima’s twin shouts of rage snapped him out of it— they would be here with him now. Not wherever the hell they had been poofed off to like some sort of sick magician’s act.

As an instructor, he felt shame and guilt. As an alpha, he was hardly able to choke back his rage.

“This must be killing you,” a caustic voice acknowledges his feelings. A blurry pair of tattered red shoes appears before his eyes and a growl wells up in his throat. Looking up at the blue-haired villain wasn’t an option– he didn’t think he could control himself if he had to match eyes with the bastard responsible for the reason his pups were scattered across the arena. “Poor, little, failure of an alpha. Sniveling at our feet as your students are attacked by our colleagues. Nothing to do but whimper and cry.”

“You will not hurt any of them. I will tear you apart limb by limb if any of them have so much as a scratch ,” Aizawa grit out. As much as he means every word, his voice sounds weak even to his own ears and his vision is too wavering for him to tell if he really is glaring at anything at all. 

The villain bursts into laughter at the sound of it.

It’s the League. Back in his days underground, they had run across the League of Villain prototype quite a bit. Back then, they were just thoughtless whispers, attempts to rile society up. An urban legend more than anything else, there was never much to worry about. There was no honor amongst thieves– the idea of a group of miscreants getting together like a reverse Hero’s team was tried and ridiculous. Villains couldn’t trust each other the way Pros could, it would never work. 

And yet, they had somehow managed to break into the USJ and take students hostage. They’d managed to wound Aizawa enough that he could hardly see clearly anymore and now cackled at his threats.

They had the upper hand.

“Right… Take me up on that again when you can lift your head off the ground,” the League leader said, sounding bored almost. Shoes stepping away from Aizawa’s slumped form, he stalks off towards the shadow-y man, barking out a command at him that the teacher can’t entirely follow. 

Leaving behind his scent of black dahlias in his wake.

Aside from them being a deviation from what logic would say about villain teams, there was one other odd thing about the League of Villains. 

Only omegas had sweet scents of flowers or candies. In the class, Jirou Kyouka boasted one of jasmine and Uraraka Ochako of cherry blossoms. Bakugou Katsuki’s was the most saturated, of freshly melted caramel; but, they were all equally as disarming and pacifying during stressful drills and in the middle of hard tests. 

O ne thing all omega were similar in was their ability to comfort amidst a battle the way no alpha or beta could. Historically, their aromas were able to coax wounded soldiers to sleep and give the bedridden a last few moments of reprieve before they passed into the next world. Just by simply stepping near him every now and then, the League leader was giving him peace of mind with his sweet scent. And shamelessly confirming the most confusing part of the puzzle that was the notorious gang of evil-doers.

They were being led by a member of the lowest dynamic. Alphas and betas alike were bowing down their heads to an omega without complaint or argument. 

Hero teams led by omegas were unheard of. Sure, there were more dominant omegas in the industry– but the fair few tended to work independently and quietly. No alpha or beta would likely be able to bite their tongue long enough to listen to an omega bark out orders, even with society’s changing popular opinions. And how could anyone expect someone of the child-bearing class to make the tough calls an alpha could? Omegas simply did not lead when it came to hero work. No one thought it was even biologically possible. 

And yet, this omega who smelled of black dahlias and was so small and dainty compared to the hulking forms surrounding him, this omega who appeared so fragile and spoke like a naive street crook– had led his men into one of the most heavily guarded forts the hero’s had. Had made the call to kidnap and threaten to torture dozens of pups like it was nothing . 

Already Aizawa had been having doubts about the stereotype about omegas being soft since Bakugou Katsuki yelled at Mineta into wetting his pants a few days ago. New aged omega were clearly far different than the ones of his alumni, and each of the three in Class 1-A were proving this with each passing day. They played in an entirely different ballpark and fought for respect even when they were outnumbered by alpha. 

The League of Villain’s leader was simply the nail in the coffin. Whoever claimed omegas didn’t have the heart to be callous, didn’t know the blue-haired villain. 

“Aizawa- sensei ,” the villain crooned, turning to face him from a distance. Even though a hand covers a majority of his head, the alpha knows his expression. Mirthful and merciless. Somehow, it feels crueler than any alpha he’d ever been up against. “Your pups are surrounded in their little hiding spot– arguing with each other. So focused on each other, they led us right to them with their strong scents and barking. You’ve a lot of untrained alphas in your class, sensei .”

Heat flaring through himself, it’s all Aizawa can do to snarl at him. “Leave them be–”

“I don’t think I will,” the villain doesn’t even let him finish his statement, waving a hand in dismissal. Already turning away to the shadow-y man once more, he won’t turn back to the battered alpha again for the entirety of the attack. “Let’s see how well you’ve prepared them, shall we, sen– ”

A large explosion rocks the terrain. A sound similar to glass shattering.

The blue-haired villain froze mid step as a cloud of smoke rises above them. 

Aizawa released a breath.

The League of Villains weren’t the only ones with unconventional omegas. 

Chapter Text

In Class 1-A, omegas were outnumbered by alpha and beta seventeen to three.

Every time Uraraka Ochako remembered that statistic, every time she stepped into the classroom to find herself swarmed by the harsh scents of the upper dynamics – years and years and years of frustration crashed down onto her.

Rumor had it that the reason admissions for the child-bearing class into Hero Schools was so low was entirely biological. After all, it’d been decades since the doors were opened and omegas were legally allowed to enter traditionally “alpha jobs.” If omegas actually wanted to enter the heroic business, wouldn’t they have done so by now? 

Naturally, the only plausible reason for the Pro Hero field still being alpha and beta dominated was that omegas simply must’ve preferred pink-collared jobs and tending to their nests. Their brains were engineered different, duh , all they thought about was securing a good, strong alpha to protect them and popping out a couple pups before they turned twenty-nine (at which they would shrivel up and disappear, because according to the media, omegas past their thirties ceased to exist). Heroic work simply wasn’t on their radar, obviously an omega would prefer to work in a daycare with kids or at a charming, little bakery.

Ochako was pretty certain Bakugou Katsuki was rated PG-13– if not R , and Jirou Kyouko would burn down a bakery trying to boil water . The thought that omega preferred softer, simpler jobs was bullshit.

No, the reason there were so little omegas in the field was more innate. 

It was in the way omegas were raised, pushed into pinks and pastels, to dolls and makeup, to ballet and choir. Anything to try and get them out of the mindset of wanting to be an independent, career-driven , new-aged omega. Anything to keep them from the field and safely tucked into a nest.

People balked whenever Ochako told them her goals of one day being a Pro Hero. Aunts and Uncles would grimace and nudge her to consider a different career path while people at school would cackle loudly as though she was telling a joke. How could such a cute omega like her be a Pro Hero? It’d be a waste of such a pretty face! She couldn’t handle the fierceness of the field; she wasn’t ever going to be mentally ready for it! What if she damaged her stomach? What if she somehow became infertile because of the stress?! What if a villain got their hands on her pretty face?!

Ochako would bet her life that not a single alpha in her class ever had to answer the question ‘ but what will your future mate think?!’ from a career counselor. She’d bet her soul on the fact that they were never asked to consider the possibility of a person for a life altering personal decision. They were never asked to build up themselves around someone they didn’t know, and wouldn’t know for years to come.

It’s an alpha’s world. 

But like hell , after working her ass off to get into the top hero school and forcing her parents to recognize that she could provide for their struggling family– she didn’t need to find a provider , would she sit back and let herself be outnumbered. 

Like Hell , would she sit here and let Midoriya Izuku dictate her place in this fight the way he seemed far too content to.

“You’re going up against the League of Villains – shouldn’t you want all the help you can get?” she blurts, interrupting the alpha’s long spiel.

A majority of the class had managed to meet up at the Central Plaza, with Aoyama and Hagakure taking the incentive to sneak out to call for help ( both looking extremely eager to get away for some reason ). Given that it had been a good half hour since their departure, and the villains were coming closer and closer to sniffing them out as Aizawa flushed more and more pale, they had agreed it was time to act on their own. They weren’t damsels in distress, and they could at least get their teacher medical attention if nothing else. With as many hands as they had, they could do something other than hide the way they had.

Or they could. If Midoriya Izuku didn’t want to cut their numbers down to the bare minimum . If Midoriya Izuku didn’t want to go up against the creepy hands guy on his own , like any insane, glory-seeking alpha who thought with their knot rather than their brain. If Midoriya Izuku wasn’t trying to write off four powerful quirks from the fight for something as simple as their scents being sweeter than his.

Deku blinked, scratching at his cheek wearily. Green eyes softening and voice going lighter (his ‘ an omega is talking to me ’ voice), he practically cooed: “Ochako-chan, everyone has a task–”

“Four of us are tasked with ‘healing Aizawa-sensei once he’s rescued…” Jirou cut in, hands on her hips. Though she’d been across from her, half tucked behind Sero, she’d managed to exchange looks with Ochako the entire debriefing. From the moment Midoriya and Mina cut Asui Tsuyu off to take over the conversation and the entire class had let them . Mouth curling into a mirthless smile, Jirou continued to drive home the punchline: “And none of us four have healing quirks.”

Kouda signs something that doesn’t look very polite. Though he’s a beta, Midoriya Izuku had apparently deemed him weak enough to not put him on the offense teams with the other non-omegas. Clearly the dude wasn’t taking it well, if any of his harried, jutting gesticulations were to be believed. 

Midoriya clears his throat over the disagreements. As most of the betas and alpha of the class had been nodding along, naturally finding nothing wrong with such plans, he didn’t seem to have expected backlash at all. Typical . “I just think it should be those of us with offensive quirks that go against the League. Everyone else is still a major help–”

“If that’s the criteria, why the fuck are you going?” 

If it wasn’t clear by the way Midoriya’s head immediately whips to him, the sudden gossiping makes it obvious that it’s the first time the class has seen Bakugou address Midoriya since the Battle Drill incident. If not the first time the blonde has addressed the alpha at all since the mess of a drill. Unconsciously, Ochako finds herself stepping a bit closer to her fellow omega (reasonably protective given the fact that she was the one who pried Deku’s canines out of his throat not long ago). Katsuki doesn’t seem to agree with such logic, shooting her an unimpressed look as he continued. “The fuck am I supposed to do to heal Aizawa? Smear nitroglycerin in his wounds?”

“Er– well, no, I mean…” Midoriya stammered, struggling to regain his barings under the intensity of Katsuki’s gaze. When he swallows, his Adam's apple is trembling . He was acting as though the omega was standing up for himself and his ability was a curveball . As though he hadn’t expected any of them to say a word when he put them on nurse duty– typical .

Uraraka clears her throat to offer in her own two cents. With Midoriya stunted, and the other three ‘nurses’ having offered up their complaints, it was her turn to play her hand and tell Midoriya Izuku, and all the alphas in the class how stupid they were. Maybe she’d even throw in her newly acquired blackmail from the bus ride. 

Unfortunately, Midoriya Izuku in a tutu doesn’t get to make an appearance. Before Ochako could decide which insult to start with, a different alpha chimes into the conversation.

“Honestly, Midoriya, I would prefer to have Bakugou fighting by my side over you. What are we supposed to do after you run out of fingers to break?” Kirishima taunted, barring his sharp canines. 

Ochako liked Kirishima. Of all the class alpha, he seemed to be the only one with a brain when it came to dynamic nonsense and he actually looked her in the eye whenever she spoke to him. Even now, he was on their side. 

But being knowledgeable in omega rights issues and having the common decency to listen to her words beyond ‘hehe, cute omega’s talking to me’ didn’t make him any less of an alpha. Sweet as it was for him to back them up, there was no sugar coating what it was. A blow at another member of the golden dynamic. A challenge during a time when that was the last thing they needed .

As much as this was him defending the omegas of the class, it was twice as much a chance to get at an alpha he’d had a clear rivalry with since the Battle Drill Incident.

Midoriya bristled at the comment, gaze pulled from where he was staring at Katsuki, wide eyed, (likely thinking something along the lines of ‘hehe, cute omega’s talking to me ’) to the redheaded alpha. Posturing like a bird would puff out his chest, the green haired alpha naturally attempted to reclaim control over the situation, losing any of the leverage Katsuki’s speaking had gained over him. It was much easier for an alpha to posture over another than be reprimanded by their omegan crush. “If you were listening , the plan is for me to only use three fingers–”

“Oh, only three? I feel so secure leaving my fate up to your broken limbs, Midoriya-san.”

“Kiri,” Mina piped in then. Just as Midoriya had done seconds before when Katsuki spoke, Eijirou’s head snapped to her direction. Just in time to hear her make the situation worse with that amused smile of hers. “We all know you’re just trying to get your knot wet by defending some omega– can you cut us a break? We’re trying to establish a plan here! Why’d you feel the need to interrupt?”

“Actually, I interrupted first– no, you’re not listening? Oh, OK. Cool,” Ochako muttered, as the class derailed into spiked scents and angered voices. Just as quickly as they had gotten a grip on the situation and had their voices heard, they had lost to a battle of ‘who had the fiercest scent’. Great. Wonderful. Typical .

“Days since the last alpha dick measuring fest– zero ,” a voice said at her side. Uraraka practically jumped out of her skin before coming to see it was Asui Tsuyu, the original leader of the discussion before it had been swiped from her hands when Mina’s group arrived.

Once she’d calmed from the sudden jumpscare, she managed to crack a half smile at the comment. It seemed their class couldn’t go a few days before breaking into a rage over the omega’s place in the class– and a majority of the time, those omegas weren’t even a part of the conversation. Midoriya Izuku was pointing out details of her quirk that she hadn’t even known about, while Bakugou Katsuki had started to stretch. Jirou Kyouka was examining her nails while Mina Ashido was insisting that “it’s not sexist! It’s just practical!”

These alphas didn’t know the first thing about being an omega. They were taught that the sky was the limit while everything had always been “but what about” or “are you sure” for her. Even now, they were trying to define her place in this classroom and make her argument for her. Even now, they had quickly derailed a discussion about a strategy into a dominance battle to decide who was head alpha of the class.  

They were taking away her voice . And awfully enough, she couldn’t find it in herself to be shocked by it. It’s an alpha’s world. And the three of them, the three of seventeen, were just stepping stones for the rest. Uraraka Ochako was nothing more than a way to determine who was the “most alpha” in the hero course. Someone they thought of as a future nursemaid, or assumed they could speak for. 

“It’s not about us at all,” she said, sounding the way a deflated kiddie pool looked. Shoulders drooping, she felt even more like it, wondering if she ever should’ve spoken up at all.  “We’re just an excuse for them to determine the top dog of the class.” 

“Going to place any bets? Right now, it seems like it’s between Midoriya-san, Ashido-san and Kirishima-san,” Asui responded, evenly. 

Knowing the girl’s dynamic, Ochako briefly wonders whether the response would’ve been any different no matter how distressed her own voice had sounded. Given her passiveness, she genuinely could not tell what the beta thought of the situation. Whether she was unbothered by it all or was simply painfully sarcastic. 

She supposed it was probably by design– betas were the most flexible of the dynamics. Allowing the alpha and omega to determine a pack dynamic before fitting themselves in. For Asui, these arguments probably held no weight. At least until a hierarchy was formed, she would watch the situation objectively with no opinions.

Surveying the group of arguing alphas, Uraraka shrugged. To her, they all looked like immature knotheads. The whole point of the argument forgotten, they were left to just sling crass insults at each other. There were loud attempts by Iida to calm everyone, but there was just too much noise to get in any actual say. Alphas trying to speak over one another, trying to make their stances known, the entire conversation was derailed into a jumble of pointlessness. 

And the stench . She could only hope someone would bark loudly enough to put an end to it with the amount of colliding smells. God, she hated the odor of arguing alpha.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for the headache to become a problem of the past. And it isn’t because Kirishima socked Midoriya or Iida managed to finally get somebody to listen to him.

Instead, it’s a large wall of ice jutting up from the ground, circling and encasing them in a dome like structure, and an alpha’s roar .

“ Down !” Shouto shouted, and that’s a command . That’s a command that not even the arguing alpha of the class seem able to ignore. Everyone drops to the ground. Uraraka gasped as her knees hit the floor the second the voice hit her, having not even registered the word by that point. Ice runs through her veins as she recognizes what had just happened– how she had acted without the action even having been her own.

Although all alphas could use commands, not many had mastered it to the extent that they could do any more than influence someone’s decision at this age. At Todoroki’s age it was impressive to be able to control two or three people– but an entire class?

Ochako isn’t given much more time to balk at the fact that Todoroki Shouto had knocked every alpha of their class to the floor before he’s making his next words. The next word isn’t a command, but the ferocity it’s spoken makes it sound as much. “ Bakugou!”

Gaze flying to the other omega, Uraraka finds him still standing– though not without clear effort. Teeth gritted and skin flushed, the blonde shot Todoroki a glare that could kill before his palms lit up and suddenly the wall of ice exploded.

Someone screamed. It took a moment to register that it wasn’t the voice of any of her classmates.

Instead, a magenta-skinned villain who’d just been stabbed with various shards of ice.

Around him, a legion of villains stumble to their knees cradling their own wounds from the dome explosion. During the dick measuring contest, they had been surrounded on all sides. And they hadn’t even noticed .

“Want to place a bet now?” Asui mused on the floor at her side, seeming undisturbed by the sudden turn of events. Almost unperturbed enough that the omega wondered if someone had noticed after all and just decided against saying anything. After all, Asui had been the person the alpha had insulted first, cutting her off midway through explaining her original strategy. Maybe it wasn’t a beta thing after all, maybe Asui was just strange.

“If you pussy-pups are done arguing,” Bakugou growled out, flexing his wrist. With clear effort, he made his way over to a coolly standing Shouto, shouldering him hard . The alpha stumbled to the side slightly, and Uraraka felt a weight fall off her chest entirely. Gasping a large breath alongside the majority of the room, she shakily hunched over. “The strategy is complete bullshit, they’ve already found and surrounded us. All you can do now is defend yourself and stay alive for the next couple of minutes.”

Straightening, Shouto showed no regard for the students struggling to their feet. What a brutal alpha , giving such a powerful command and simply continuing on like it was nothing . Where had he even learned to command a room like that– at his age. Where had he learned to command other alpha ( and would he be willing to teach her? ).

“Our main focus should be Aizawa,” the coolheaded alpha did eventually offer his input, cutting off a steaming Mina who seemed ready to tear him a new one for using a command on her. And one that worked . The rest of the class seemed to still be coming to terms with it, slowly coming to at their own time. There would be quite a few bruised egos for a while after this, judging by the grimace on Sero’s face as he rubbed his lower back. 

His fated took it with enough stride that Ochako wondered if he’d already known what a strong bark he had. Though, knowing Katsuki, it was more likely that he was just built different and such a command wouldn’t have knocked him down no matter who was giving it.  “Maybe for you. Have fun on your rescue mission.”

“Who are you going after?” Remnants of the original command are stuck in his tone, causing half of the class to respond to the question the second it leaves his lips, despite it being clearly meant for Bakugou. Uraraka has to bite her tongue both to keep herself from speaking, and to stop herself from bursting into laughter at an angered Mineta who just admitted he was going to run away in fear– goddammit stop commanding me! I’m an alpha, for fuck’s sake!

Katsuki shot him a heated look, but didn’t protest. When he speaks, it’s clearly freely , not because an alpha had just demanded he speak. “The freak with the hands, duh .”

“OK,” Todoroki nodded, and that was it.

Bakugou Katsuki was going to go after the Boss Level villain, and all his fated had to offer to that was: OK .

That was their only interaction before they both turned on their heels and headed into opposite directions. No questions asked, no farewells or ‘ stay safe ’s. Just a question and a confirmation and then they were throwing themselves into battle with the surrounding mass of villains, moving in tandem to freeze and explode anyone who came their way.

Clumsily raising to her feet, Uraraka didn’t waste a second rushing after where Katsuki was rushing to play offense, shooting a final look over to her shoulder to see a few others do the same. The rest went to Todoroki’s aid, without a single complaint. Asui flashed her a knowing look at her side, telling that she was just as aware of what just happened.

Todoroki Shouto effectively established himself as the top dog of the class. And he hadn’t had to put down any omegas to do it.

“Still taking bets?” Ochako mused, right as she ran into her first villain. A silver haired boy with an ice shard impaled into his left shoulder.

Shaking her head, Asui grinned. Objectively calm, she admitted: “The race is already over, Uraraka.”

&

They’ve just barely managed to make it to the blue-headed bitch when All Might makes an appearance to steal the show.

Katsuki is rightfully very pissed .

Both at the fact that All Might credits the whole attack to fucking Deku— who Katsuki had to shield from getting disentergrated— and the matter of being tasked with being a nursemaid after all. 

After the League had made their escape as dozens of Pros arrived to the scene, very late to the party, Eleven made a reappearance to give them an impromptu lesson on the recovery process. As though having been caught in the midst of a villain attack wasn’t enough of a lecture for them, she’d forced everyone to help set up a medical center and wrap wounds and shovel rubble for hours after the attack. Purple Ballz claimed it was “punishment” for “making the omegas fight.” Aoyama explained that it was more likely because the island was surrounded by a swarm of journalists, explaining how he and Hagakure had to valiantly fight through the crowd in order to bring the help ( news clips proved this to be extremely untrue. Aoyama had been extremely happy to stop and explain how important the sparkles on his costume were to every single journalist in the crowd ).

Aside from Aizawa, no one had been severely injured in the fray. Though some may consider the state of Deku’s arm pretty critical, those who knew his tendency to break his bones knew it was nothing serious. Overall, the class had been lucky to need so little bandages. Recovery Girl made quick work of checking up the entirety of their class, so Katsuki had been surprised when she called him back to discuss “something extra.”

It made a lot more sense when he strolled up to her to find Pink-Cheeks and Earphones already waiting as well. Before Recovery Girl had even begun to speak, he was already well aware of what she was going to ask, and peeved about it. He was very content shoveling rubble with the rest of the class as it was.

Huffing in annoyance, he shoves open the first aid tent openings with little decorum. Recovery Girl shouts at him in the distance, but Katsuki only flashes her his finger as he enters the makeshift infirmary where Uraraka Ochako and Jirou Kyouka are already dutifully seated on one side of Aizawa’s battered form. 

With motherfucking Todoroki Shouto at their side. Was the universe trying to piss him off?

“You know, the aim is to calm ,” Todoroki Shouto said unprovoked, arms crossed over his chest. Katsuki doesn’t remember asking him. 

Snarling, he crossed the room in two strict strides and squatted down facing the opposite way of his fated. “Who the fuck invited you.”

“Me,” Pink-cheeks admitted, all too giddily. The brunette had been giving him weird eyes ever since the fight that Katsuki is choosing to ignore for the sake of his own sanctity. Even now, he pointedly avoids looking up at her in favor of tugging off his grenadier bracers. “When Mineta heard what Recovery Girl asked us to do, he wouldn’t stop circling the tent. After what happened  earlier, he’s scared of Todoroki-kun, so I figured it’d help to have him be here.”

“You should’ve seen him when he realized Todoroki was in the tent, the dumbass shit his pants, I swear,” Earphones added, just as enthused.

Katsuki could’ve scared Mineta off on his own just fine . They didn’t need macho, I-Can-Command-The-Entire-Class-Into-Submission for something as simple as that. Judging by the twin flushes on both Uraraka and Jirous’ faces, and the way they avoid his eyes, there’s something more to this. 

The meddlers .

“If you’re uncomfortable with me being here, I can step out. I can guard fine from outside the tent,” Todoroki offers and to anyone else he may have sounded like a charming bachelor, trying to respect his fated’s boundaries. Of course, that means it sounded like a challenge to Bakugou Katsuki. 

Katsuki shot him a veiled look over his shoulder. “You’re nothing more than a fly on the wall,” he flat out lied. Thankfully, no one calls him out on the matter and he gets to keep the remainder of his pride intact as he tugs at Aizawa’s left arm until the bandaged wrist is facing upward.

Having his fated in the room as he scented an invalid wasn’t ideal. Todoroki’s presence was a lot more of a distraction than a fly on the wall , and the omega was struggling to forget he was there even facing away from him. Somehow he could feel the heterochromatic eyes on the back of his skull, studying him as he rubbed his wrists together the way one would two sticks of wood to light a match.

It helps that Jirou and Uraraka snap into focus at this. Both girls rub their wrist with less force until there’s a medley of sweet scents clouding the room, spring-y flowers mixing with a nearly too sugar-y caramel. Already, the instructor is reacting, the deep lines in his face softening the slightest bit.

Those lines disappear the second their wrists make contact. Uraraka lets out a pleased hum, the only noise in the room outside of Aizawa’s evening breathing. Though not without clear effort, Katsuki has to bite his tongue to hold back his own sigh of approval. There wasn’t enough money in the world to pay to get this out of him, but Bakugou Katsuki loved scenting.

Warmth immediately flooded him, as though he’d suddenly been doused in heated honey or wrapped in a fluffy blanket. Thoughts spinning into oblivion, he’s left with baseline instincts of comfort, protect and relax. Reflexively, his hand reached up to rest against Aizawa’s forehead, feeling for a temperature.

Jirou keens and it takes a moment for Katsuki to register that the purring is coming from himself.

Uraraka snorted. “I think he’s comforted, guys,” she mused, pulling her wrist back. The only tell that she’d just scented was the light pink dusting her upper cheeks. Katsuki is almost jealous she recovered so quickly, mind still slow as he forced his arm away. He’s still ditzy-brained when pink-cheeks let out a light gasp. “Kacchan… your eyes…”

Jirou is giving him the same bug-eyed look, even as she clearly struggles to regain her bearings as well. Katsuki doesn’t have to turn to know what shade Shoujo’s eyes will be if he turned. Maybe he should’ve minded that he was in the room more.

Blinking furiously, Katsuki weakly pushed to his feet, slipped and then tried again. It’s too soon to move after a scenting, with him still feeling unbalanced and light, but he feels that if he doesn’t leave this tent now something fated related is going to happen, and that’s never good news for him. It’s his third attempt when Shoujo crossed the room to offer out a hand.

Still feeling a bit slow, Katsuki made the mistake of looking upward and matching golden eyes with his own.

Contrary to what many people probably thought, Katsuki didn’t hate gold the way he hated silver. Whereas silver made him feel weak— second best, omegan— gold was the color of winning. Was the color of victory . Katsuki had always loved gold embellishments and jewelry, requesting them whenever his mother asked for his opinion. It was unfortunate that it just happened to be an alpha’s color as well.

And a color suited that Todoroki Shouto unfortunately very well. 

“Bakugou, do you need—“ Todoroki sounds sure and certain and Katsuki wants to know the end of the question, but Aizawa’s loud sigh and the ruffling of bandages cut him short.

“ Thank you ,” the older alpha grunted, still half asleep. Though now rather than appearing as though he’s trapped in a horrible nightmare, he looks more like he’d fallen into a dreamy haze. Grinning broadly, Uraraka opens her mouth around something that will probably be so saccharine Katsuki will be forced to throw up for having heard it, but Aizawa’s not done. “Now please stop making eyes at each other so I can rest in peace.”

Katsuki would prefer throwing up to hearing that.

Blinking out of his stupor, the omega forces whatever the hell he had just felt. Chalking it up as leftover nerves from just having scented an injured, because that made sense ( Recovery Girl would severely disagree ), he grit his teeth and pushed himself to his feet. Dutifully, Todoroki stepped back, moving to instead help up a snickering Uraraka and Jirou. 

It takes the whole bus ride back for his eyes to fade back into their usual red. Todoroki and him pointedly don’t make eye contact again.

Chapter Text

:

“Of the seventy-two perps we managed to arrest, forty-one were alpha, twenty-seven were beta and four were omega,” Investigator Tsukauchi droned. For the past half hour, he’d been heading the UA faculty meeting, succinctly explaining the events of USJ and summarizing the important facts the way a beta did best. 

Unfortunately, this is undercut by the second thing betas did best. Monotone as he listed statistics and time stamps, the man was incredibly boring. Given the fact that it was the thirtieth time Midnight had yawned in the twenty minutes he’d been speaking, and Aizawa felt his own eyes drooping dangerously low, no one would be lasting much longer if this continued on.

As though realizing this, the plain looking ravenet flipped his manila folder closed on the conference table and cleared his throat. If that wasn’t enough to get the snoozing Cementos stirring, then his next words would do the trick. In the same deadpan he used for everything else, he announced: “Although we’ve been unable to track the leader of this ‘League of Villains’ or find any information on him, reports from students and Pros alike have gathered us some of his key features. Platinum blue hair. Small build. Severed hands circling his form. Omega. An emitter quirk that allows him to decay his victims by touch.”

There are several concerning points in those statements. For Aizawa, it’s the fact that those creepy detached hands were real and he hadn’t imagined them. For the rest of the table, it’s predictably the villain’s dynamic.

Toshinori Yagi snorts . At this point, he still insisted on assuming his All Might form when on campus, even if doing so clearly drained him. A stubborn effort to always appear strong in the face of the future generation of Pros. 

Aizawa can’t help but think he appears a little stupid cramped in the too-small-for-his-monster-thighs chair. The poor thing is groaning and creaking under his weight. It’s only plastic for fuck’s sake– the longer the meeting went on, the more Aizawa was concerned about its’ safety.  

“That villain I took on was no omega, Tsukauchi-kun. Which student did you pull that information from?” the golden-blonde said, bemused. There are agreeing nods around the table, from teachers that hadn’t even been there. Cementos even chuckled softly, whispering a guess of ‘probably that poor bastard Mineta-san. Poor kid’s got a knot-nose .’

Aizawa doesn’t like being the main focus of these meetings on any occasion. Preferably, he’d get to sleep through the majority of them and someone would shake him awake when it was time to leave. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough to shut his eyes and pretend by the time Tsukauchi had readily thrown him under the bus. At the beta’s indifferent nod in his direction, an accusing mass of attention was set on him. 

Sighing heavily, he waved off All Might’s disbelieving scoff. “His scent was flowery and his profile was clearly omegan,” he said, feeling as though he was a student again, trying to convince his teachers that Yamada’s Opera practice shredded his homework again, honestly . 

Even to his own ears, it sounded unhinged. An attack on the USJ in which various pups were hurt didn’t exactly scream the workings of a nurturing omega. How could a member of the silver dynamic successfully comindeer a group of forty-one alpha ? How could an omega order the harming of children, going against their very nature ? It sounded ridiculous, and Aizawa found himself nearly questioning his nose for the first time since he presented.

“Are you sure?” Midnight asked, rightfully dubious. Shooting him a skeptical look, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You were in critical condition, maybe you imagined it?”

“There were hints of black dahlia at the scene of the crime. Someone had intentionally scented the area,” Tsukauchi said, gathering his papers in mechanical movements. “A majority of the alpha and beta tested positive for traces of a black dahlia scent, as well. As you know, normally it would be the opposite for organized crime. An alpha’s scent would be left behind and the omegas would test positive for the scent of–”

“That’s ridiculous though– I mean, this was an attack on pups ,” Inui Ryo interjected, the bark easily cutting off the beta’s spiel. Though he’d spoken with authority, it was clear by the drooping of his ears that he was disturbed by the information as anyone would be.

An aggressive alpha or a cavalier beta leading such an attack was one thing. Alpha and beta did bad things all the time, it wasn’t in their nature to be pure. But someone of the softest dynamic leading it? The beings with hearts of silver? It was a plot twist that would take some time for the table to come to accept, if they ever managed to accept it at all.

Aizawa had time to process the information. Since the attack, they’d gotten a full weekend and one day off from school for him to maul over the concept. Surprisingly, accepting it came pretty easy. After all, he did teach three pretty unusual omegas. As sweet and nurturing as they were when they came to scent him after the attack, that didn’t diminish how ruthless they were during the fight. Believing Tomura Shigaraki was an omega was easy for him in a way it wouldn’t be for the majority of the Pros at the table, who taught primarily alpha dominated classes. 

In the end, only Vlad King and Maijima Higari seem to show any understanding of the concept, taking it in stride compared to the way other alphas of the table were still balking and shaking their heads. The Class 1-B and the Support rosters had more betas and omegas in their homerooms than previous years, and from what Vlad King moaned about on a daily basis, they were quite the characters . Which was just a nicer way of saying they were as irritating as Aizawa’s own students tended to be. 

“Thank you for your time Investigator Tsukauchi,” Principal Nezu cut in then, with his usual cheer. Like King and Maijima, he didn’t seem at all taken by the news, or at least was practiced enough in professionalism to keep his shock hidden from the rest of the table. “Continue working hard. If there’s anything we can do to assist in your investigations, our doors are always open to you and your team.”

Tsukauchi gave a curt nod and swiftly exited the room in a matter of seconds. As though he hadn’t just dropped a bomb and left them to flounder in the aftermath. For the first time in any of his occasional visits, the staff appears regretful to see him go. Monotone voice and all.

Nezu wastes no time once the man has parted for the topic to be dragged on. “Excellent! Now that we’re all caught up on the facts of the events, I wanted to request you’re careful in what you tell parents as to not cause for public hysteria .The media has done enough in ensuring that in the past few days, so if you receive any emails or phone calls, remember– the aim is to de-escalate any panic and give baseline facts. Nothing about any major super villains being omegas, alright?”

That earns a few nervous chuckles at the very least. Given how a table of seasoned Pro heroes were dealing with the news, Aizawa could only imagine how poorly the rest of society would react. 

“Now, if you get a phone call from Bakugou Mitsuki, please transfer to me. She’ll start the call with ‘I don’t want to talk with the dingy rodent’, excuse me, ‘ motherfucker .’ I suggest holding the phone a bit away from your ear for the next few days when you’re answering calls, just as a precaution.”

The warning is met with a bit more confused laughter, this far more sparse. Those who had been victims to such calls were stone-faced, Aizawa included. He’d still been recovering when he had the pleasure of hearing from the woman, and he’d made the fatal mistake of hanging up . Thirty-seven missed rings and voicemails later, he’d had to block the woman’s number . At least now he knew where Katsuki got his temper from.

“She could probably rival my quirk,” Yamada noted, strikingly serious. 

Clearing his throat in an attempt to ease the sudden nerves that befell the room, Nezu continued. “Speaking of a Bakugou and an omega,” he said, and unbeknownst to him, that wasn’t very promising for dispelling any concern at all . “The highest scorer on the entrance exam this year was Bakugou Katsuki. Meaning this will be the first Sports Festival in UA history kicked off with a speech from an omega – Aizawa-san, have you spoken to him about this? I mean, it’s monumental.”

Ah fuck. He’d forgotten entirely about that little tradition. 

“Make sure to clarify that there’s no profanity in most historical speeches,” Recovery Girl advised.

&

“ Fucking dammit shitting motherfucker– ” Katsuki blurted, rubbing at the left hip he’d just rammed straight into the edge of a desk.

()

His classmates were acting different around him.

Different in the way Uraraka and Jirou had immediately seeked him out when Mineta made them uncomfortable in the medical tent. In the way the alphas nodded at him in respect when he walked by, when before they would match eyes in that strange this-isn’t-a-staring-match-but-it-technically-is way alpha tended to do to each other. The way the betas turned to him whenever a decision needed to be made by the class and the Class Representative, Iida, came to him for advice (the poor guy had been severely disappointed by Shouto’s predictable ‘I don’t know’ and ‘Mn’ to every question). 

Over the weekend, he became the top dog of the class. 

And Shouto hated it.

Making the command hadn’t been some sort of intentional move to claim his rightful spot (as Mineta had put it, repeatedly ), rather a last ditch attempt to make sure none of his classmates got shot in the head while they were distracted. It was an entirely instinctual response, not something he’d practiced or even knew he could do beforehand. And not some strategic move to make sure he was atop the hierarchy of Class 1-A the way everyone was painting it out to be. He hadn’t done it out of a need to prove himself, he did it so no one left the USJ in a body bag .

Claiming it was a good skill for a Pro to have, Enji made sure he could command a good five or six people at a time. Higher than the national average for alpha his age, but notably not twenty . The best Shouto had managed before was a group of three omega and three betas, and even then the command was easily breakable and he could only ask very simple things like jump or frown. By all means, Shouto shouldn’t have been able to achieve what he did at USJ, and even he was slightly shocked when almost the entirety of his class collapsed around him.

Recovery Girl was able to provide an easy enough explanation. Urgency was noted to raise an alpha’s abilities in controlling those around them, and Shouto had seen the barrel of a gun being aimed at one of his classmates. Urgency didn’t even cut what he’d felt the moment he shouted out the command that dropped his entire class, sans Bakugou, to their knees. 

And now he was being punished for that same urgency by his peculiar mix of classmates. Not even Momo was safe anymore, having gotten it into her head that this was for the best and he should just accept the natural order of things . All day, she’d left him alone to handle the flames, convinced he could handle the new attention easily because it was an ‘alpha thing.’

With that in mind, Shouto had no hope in her being of any assistance when Midnight made the dreaded announcement two minutes after the bell rang.

“Now I know you’re all excited about the Sports Festival– the pheromones are delicious!” the purple-haired alpha exclaimed as she began to pass out a stack of worksheets to each row, a skip in her step as she exaggeratedly sniffed the air around her. “But I need you all to focus hard on this assignment today. I wanted to do something simple, related to the rescue mission you were all just on. This should be an easy grade.”

That in itself wasn’t anything to fret over. History was easily one of his least favorite subjects. Subverting from her current lectures on the development of the Hero Constitution, the first part was a much welcome announcement. 

The last part, not so much.

Once everyone had a sheet in their hands, Midnight continued to seal Shouto’s fate by saying the dreaded: “Now pair up everyone! Groups of two!”

Momo had tapped Asui on the shoulder before Midnight was even finished with her statement, leaving Shouto to fend for himself as half of the room’s occupants snapped their heads towards him.

Whoever wanted to be top of the food chain was severely uninformed. In theory, it would be nice to have everyone buttering him up and trying to get in his good graces. In practice, his skin was crawling under all the attention. In particular, Mineta’s frothing mouth at the thought of his first chance to ‘ claim that second in command spot’ he’d been moaning about the entire day.

Only a few people weren’t jumping from their seats to hunt him down at that moment. Most of the more stronger-scented alphas paired up with each other– Kirishima shaking hands with Sero and Mina pressuring Iida into pairing up with her (doing all the work and giving her all the answers). Momo had been quick to escape him and Jirou had called for Uraraka. 

Then there was Midoriya Izuku. Crossing the room to get to Bakugou’s desk, his determined strides catch Shouto’s attention and choke-hold it in spite of the fact that he’s about to get jumped and should be more concerned for his own well-being.

From what he was aware of, Midoriya and Bakugou didn’t talk . Since the disaster of a Battle Drill, they’d stopped pairing up together entirely and couldn’t be found speaking one-on-one as they used to. Normally, it was Uraraka who swooped in and looped her arm through the other omegas’ whenever the alpha approached, but right now Jirou was pulling up a desk for her and a conflicted look had crossed over her face.

Well, he had no claim over Bakugou Katsuki, and there was no maybe about it. The blonde could work with whoever he wanted or– judging by the grimace his face is assuming as Midoriya got closer and closer – didn’t want. At the end of the day, it’s none of Shouto’s business and it never was, despite what the class had projected onto them. 

From across the room, Uraraka had shifted to give him the same look from a few days ago, from when she asked him to stand in the tent during the scenting. Midoriya opened his mouth to speak to the blonde and Shouto’s chest clenched.

Not much different from when he gave the command, he speaks before he even registers what he’s doing. 

“ Bakugou .”

The entire class seems to jolt at that. People who’d made a move to rush up to him stumbled slightly in their steps and Momo’s eyes widened as she turned to face him. Even Midnight reacted, a hand raising to cover a Chesire smile. 

Shouto just barely made out the clench of Midoriya’s jaw and the tightening of a fist when Bakugou rose from his seat. Having only half-expected the omega to even acknowledge his voice, he’s shocked right up until the other boy is settled in the seat across from him, scowl and all.

Slowly but surely, the remaining students pair up and stilted conversation fills the room. Uraraka and Jirou raise their voices to a distracting degree when it’s clear a majority of ears are pointed in the fated pair’s direction, and soon enough voices mix and mash to the point where Shouto feels comfortable speaking under the guise that he isn’t being eavesdropped on by a majority of the room.

Only he can’t seem to get his tongue to move. 

It’d been a long while since he had to sit across from his fated and have an actual conversation. Outside of the scenting a few days ago, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d even stood within a few feet of each other without having a mediator there to ensure they didn’t end up tussling on the floor. Independently, they’d both seemed to decide that they wanted nothing to do with one another after their families met, and tended to keep a large berth between each other whenever possible. If the omega entered a room first, Shouto purposely went for the opposite side of it. If the alpha entered a room first, Bakugou would leave the room and probably try to set it on fire.

Because of this, Shouto didn’t have much practice looking his fated directly in the face and the few times he did had proven to be disastrous for his state of well-being.

The first time he looked into omegan silver eyes, he got socked in the face. A few days ago when he offered him a hand– staring down at prettily flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips– he was on the verge of a heart attack before Aizawa stepped in. Bakugou Katsuki was genuinely a threat to his physical well-being, and Shouto felt he should’ve considered that a bit more before he opened his mouth and invited him to sit across from him for the remainder of class.

Bakugou Katsuki is devastating . Bakugou Katsuki is enchanting. 

Bakugou Katsuki is snapping slender fingers right in front of his nose and scowling . “I’m not doing your work for you just because you can command twenty people into submission, knothead .”

And that was exactly why there were no maybes left in their particular situation. Why they had engaged in a fist fight the moment they locked eyes, rather than falling into each other’s arms the way they were supposed to. Why no matter how pretty the omega is, Shouto is more in danger of having his heart stabbed within his chest than he would ever get it stolen by him. 

Bakugou Katsuki was unjustifiably rude and brash.

“I never asked you to,” Shouto shot back, hackles rising instantly. 

Naturally, Bakugou’s first instinct is to insult him. Even if he’d just saved him from the fate of a worse partner (though, there was no telling if the omega actually considered him the worse option between him and Midoriya. The thought of that made him too nauseous to consider ), that didn’t automatically put them on good terms. This was still the same person who’d punched him in the gut the first day they met, after all.

Bakugou cocked his head to the side in a way that may have been considered cute by someone who wasn’t aware he probably had some form of rabies. “Never said you did. Got the message somewhere in between you staring stupidly into the distance and not responding when I asked you about question one.”

Oh. Had he?

Well. 

It was still rude to call someone a knothead for getting distracted. (Nevermind the fact of what he’d been distracted by, that was irrelevant). 

“I didn’t hear you,” Shouto gave a half-hearted excuse, and he couldn’t hold it against the omega for snorting at that because yeah right . Bakugou and quiet didn’t go in the same sentence. The thought of the entire class eavesdropping on them probably made him speak louder if anything else. 

Dropping his head down to the paper in surrender, he gave a quick glance over the question. Thankfully, Midnight had been honest, the worksheet did seem pretty easy. That knocked at least one concern off his plate for the rest of the hour. “I would try to shake the victim,” he said, confidently.

A few tables down, Kaminari begins to choke.

Bakugou nodded, scribbling down his own answer. “Yeah, and if they don’t wake up, leave ‘em behind,” he continued, ending Shouto’s thoughts seamlessly. 

Now Sero is choking too. Hopefully there wasn’t a cold going around, Shouto thought as he wrote down his own response to ‘ what to do if you come across the limp form of a victim of an earthquake.’

“What to do to stop a victim from losing dangerous amounts of blood,” Bakugou continued onto the next question.

Easy enough, Shouto had seen this in Natsuo’s trashy crime dramas enough times to answer pretty confidently. “Put a bandaid on it.”

“What? No– cauterize the wound. And if they’re too pussy to handle it, they can bleed out.” 

“Oh right, that makes sense.” He supposed he could find a match somewhere. Using his father’s quirk was outside of the question, no matter how much blood someone was losing. He’d have to keep a lighter in one of his hero costume’s pockets.

Wow, now even Momo is hacking up a storm. Hopefully she’s okay.

Just as they had teamed up during USJ, they made quick work of the worksheet ( as the rest of the class comes to the quick understanding that they aren’t cut out for rescue situations at all, ever ). With a task at hand, it’s easier to handle each other’s company, exchanging easy words in between filling out the paper. By the time a majority of the class has barely reached the halfway point, they’re finished and Shouto nearly regrets it, side-eyeing the clock that announces a dreary twenty minutes of class left.

Midnight started confiscating phones at the beginning of her lectures after catching Hagakure and Oijirou watching Fruits Basket in the middle of an exam, meaning he didn’t even have the comfort of a phone to distract himself from the awkward silence that fell over them. Shouto is used to lulls in conversation, being an introvert at heart, but this feels different , uncomfortably hot. A red gaze is burning on the side of his face, and Shouto isn’t planning on running away– just valiantly retreating – as he makes a move to raise his arm and request the bathroom pass.

Bakugou beats him to the chase, freezing him in his seat as he blurted out the most irritating topic he could’ve. It was as though the omega just knew what would get under his skin.

“They think you’re the head alpha now,” Bakugou said bluntly, jutting his head towards the rest of the class. Shouto gives him a blank look in response, trying to decide what he can say to curb the topic and also not spike the blonde’s anger. The last thing he wants to talk about is his new spot on the hierarchy, and the last person he wants to discuss it with is Bakugou Katsuki. “Pink-Cheeks and Racoon Eyes said–”

“I didn’t want them to–” Shouto started a familiar spiel, only to immediately cut off seconds after when the next words hit him. “Pink-Cheeks and Racoon Eyes?”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “You know who I’m talking about.”

Shouto did in fact know who he was talking about. It still surprised him nonetheless. 

Unable to subdue it, a smirk was twitching at his lips. There was something funny about it, the way he spit out the names as though they were supposed to be derogatory when they were anything but. No matter how Bakugou tried to spin it, having pink cheeks wasn’t an insult, and definitely was one of Uraraka Ochako’s more endearing qualities. And diminishing an abrasive alpha like Ashido Mina down to her set of eyes that did, admittedly, look adorably racoon-ish wasn’t offensive, growled or not . There was no other way to put it. A hint of amusement laced in his tone, Shouto accused: “You gave our classmates nicknames.”

He’s able to see the exact moment Bakugou finishes buffering to register the words by the aggressive flush that instantly floods his features. Turning red up to his ears, the omega sputtered for a solid few seconds at the statement. “What the fuck?! No , shut the fuck up!” he exclaimed, the same way someone would when they got caught giving nicknames to their classmates.

Smirk now fully set, Shouto tears his gaze away from the guilty expression, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest ( he’d need to get Recovery Girl to check in on that soon ). More eagerly than he’d like to admit, he asked, “What’s my nickname?”

Wrong question.

Quickly, he realizes it was probably the worst thing he could’ve asked while he had the upper hand. Unlike Uraraka and Mina, it wasn’t like he’d get a cutesy nickname, and he was a fool to entertain the thought for even half a second. Embarrassed rage immediately replaced by schadenfreude, Bakugou’s eyes light up and his searing blush fades into a light pink. 

A slender finger traces a line straight down between Shouto’s eyes, where red hair switches to white and a marred face turns unblemished. “Half ‘n Half or knothead,” the blonde is far too excited to announce, almost sounding proud. 

“Wow.” Shouto deadpanned. “I can’t decide which is worse.”

Knowing Bakugou and the way the grin immediately widened on his face, he took pride in that .

“You used to be Shitty Hair,” Bakugou informed, still looking rather smug.

“What happened to that?”

“Shittier Hair,” Bakugou jutted his thumb towards Kirishima Eijirou’s erratic red hair.

An upgrade is an upgrade, no matter how it’s obtained. There was some philosopher who quoted that somewhere. It also helped to know he wasn’t the only alpha with an insulting nickname in their class, and, a bit more childishly, that Kirishima Eijirou had gotten his sloppy seconds. When redheaded alpha caught them staring and waved enthusiastically, Shouto smiled as he returned the gesture. 

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou clicked his tongue the way a dog trainer would when the animal got something wrong. Shouto wouldn’t admit it, but the sound is effective in bringing his attention back to the omega, just in time for the blonde to nudge the conversation back to its original purpose. “You changed the subject.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Shouto said, in high enough spirits now that he’d fooled himself into believing that would be enough of an excuse when it came to Bakugou Katsuki.

The omega gave him a disbelieving look. “I do,” he returned, hotly, holding up a hand when Shouto opened his mouth to protest. “Deserved or not, they’re calling you that. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t getting to your big head.”

What .

Of all the things Bakugou could’ve brought it up for, for some reason that hadn’t crossed his mind. What– the blonde thought after commanding an entire group of alpha, beta and omega into submission, he wasn’t worthy of the title of Head Alpha?

Shouto didn’t even want the position, and suddenly he felt the strong desire to defend it. Bakugou didn’t even know him, they didn’t even talk– what the hell was he even saying? “You don’t know how big my head is.” 

This time when Bakugou pins him with the disbelieving look, it feels more warranted. Shouto had never been the most articulate. The argument made more sense in his head.

“I don’t care how big your head is,” the omega clarified, words full of derision. “No matter how big it is, I’ll knock it down to size during the sports festival.”

There’s a bit of a pause before Shouto finds his words again. In that time, Bakugou’s glare only gets fiercer. “That’s what this is about?”

Bakugou did seem pretty obsessive about winning. It should’ve hit him sooner that this was what he’d want to talk about and why he seemed too quick to accept it when he called him over. His apparent new position had hit the class right as the sports festival was announced. 

“What? You think being head alpha means you’re going to win the sports festival?” Bakugou scoffed, reaffirming the train of thought.

He hadn’t actually really connected the dots or given it any thought. The head alpha position was a nuisance and the sports festival had just been announced. Busy dodging Mineta’s attempts at a conversation all day, he hadn’t had the thinking room to spare to what the position meant in the context of the sports festival.

Historically, the UA sports festival went one way. Watched by millions annually (including the Todoroki household), the head alphas of each year would take the gold. It was a long running joke that whoever head the most dominant alpha position in each class– especially 1-A– were already winners before they stepped on the field. Now that the rest of the class had begun to bow their heads to him, it would be natural for polls to name him the anticipated winner and other students to expect as much.

But even as he considered that, he couldn’t find himself entirely agreeing with the logic. 

He was going to win. He was going to win with his mother ’s quirk, and smear the victory in his father’s face. He was going to prove he didn’t need fire, alpha’s aggression , to win this. He was going to prove his father wrong.

And he would’ve done that, head alpha or not.

“No, I think I’m going to win the head sports festival because I have the strongest quirk in this class,” he said, eventually.

Bakugou’s eyes flash in a way that’s painfully familiar. 

For a moment Shouto is six in the doctor’s office. Fuyumi’s hands are on his shoulder as doctors slowly unwrap the bandages from his face. Natsuo is trying to distract him with a game console. The window reflects an ugly scar back at him.

Bakugou’s words are lava, dripping from his lips with every intention of burning him. “That’s rich coming from–”

He doesn’t know how much Shouto’s already been burned.

“It’s not an ‘alpha thing’, Bakugou,” Shouto cut him off. It’s not one of those little dynamic boxes Momo likes to shove confusing things into when she doesn’t want to think any further on it. This had nothing to do with alphas or omegas, and deep down, Shouto needs Bakugou to understand that. Needs that familiar, defeated glint in his eyes to fade away. “I’m going to beat everyone in this class, powerful omega or not. Dynamics have nothing to do with it.”

Bakugou doesn’t speak, locking a devastating gaze on him. Unsure what he’s thinking, Shouto matches it with just as much fierceness.

He’s breathless as he continued: “I won’t go easy on you, and I hope you’ll have enough respect for me to do the same— UA history be damned.” 

Bakugou’s lips slightly parted, though no sound came out.

A warm feeling overwhelms Shouto for half a second, a scent of burnt sugar becoming sharper, and then the bell rings.

Bakugou is up and out of his seat reminiscent of the way a hare would leap from a predator.

&

Todoroki Shouto openly declared he’d take him seriously in combat. Todoroki Shouto said he wouldn’t go easy on him. Todoroki Shouto’s eyes were stun–

In his haste to get away, Bakugou Katsuki swings the door open to come face to face with a crowd of 1-B students.

Blinking slowly, the purple-haired beta leading the group said, “You… don’t look like an alpha.”

Feeling a lot of things in that moment, Katsuki can’t be held entirely responsible when he angrily returned: “And you look like a Walking Dead reject. Outta my way, Hot Topic.”

(Let it go down on the record that it is not his fault an argument breaks out between Class 1-A and Class 1-B. It’s Todoroki Shouto’s stupid eyes).

Chapter Text

^.^

When Ochako envisioned herself going to UA, she’d seen herself instantly clicking with a new group of omegas– but this time, instead of balking at her Pro Hero dreams and trying to sway her against it, they’d get it . 

She saw herself giggling and gushing with a big group of cute girls and boys, talking about their crushes and gossiping about who was into who. She saw them doing each other’s makeup and painting each other’s nails. She saw aesthetic picnics and endless trips to the mall. And all the same, she saw herself training side by side with a group of badass omega of the new generation– a part of history , of the change that would finally push the silver dynamic into the Pro Hero field.

Bakugou Katsuki and Jirou Kyouka had scared her when she walked into class on the first day. 

Neither were the omegan stereotypes, rough around the edges and speaking in abrasive tones she wasn’t used to at all, coming from an all omegan junior high. Jirou’s style was grunge-y, all dark leathers and piercings, and she always looked unimpressed, no matter what was said or who was speaking. Meanwhile, Bakugou might’ve been the loudest person she’d ever met, a literal ticking time bomb who cussed every other word and fought his fated the first day of class. Needless to say, these weren’t the omega from her imagination who would cuddle up next to her and exchange their deepest secrets with her. In fact, for the first few days of class they exchanged a grand total of three words altogether.

Jirou had been more into her phone than anything else and, back then, Bakugou still only ever spoke to Midoriya. Though they’d share glances at times or nod at each other in acknowledgement, they just weren’t each other’s types. When Ochako thought of an omega friend group, she thought of shopping and sleepovers. When Jirou thought of an omega friend group, she thought of punk rock concerts and dying each other’s hair insane colors. Bakugou didn’t even think about omega friend groups, hyper-focused on victory and being number one! 

Somewhere in between Bakugou telling everyone in his vicinity to die and Jirou getting her phone confiscated for the fifth time (in their first period of the day ), Ochako realized pretty quickly that she’d wasted money on the friendship bracelet kit. Slowly but surely, she allowed her fantasies of a UA omega friend group to shrivel up and die. 

But then the Battle Drill happened. 

Then Jirou blew up at the class and ranted to Ochako on their walk to the trains after. Then Bakugou awkwardly approached her during lunch the next day, not exactly saying thanks but dropping off the sweetest muffin she’d ever had in her entire life and sitting next to her when she demanded him to. Then Jirou and Bakugou were arguing with each other over some horror movie when they were supposed to be helping her shop for a new dress. Then Bakugou was falling asleep on her shoulder when she’d tried to force them to watch her favorite drama and Jirou wouldn’t stop interrupting to ask if the protagonist was mentally challenged for liking the male lead. Then Jirou became Kyouka and Bakugou became Katsuki– and maybe it wasn’t exactly what she’d envisioned, but slowly but surely, Ochako found herself realizing she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Well. She wouldn’t have it any other way aside from one , very tiny, small thing.

“I tried to talk to Kats about this and all he said was ‘ ew ’. I just don’t know what to do, Ochako,” Jirou moaned, dropping her head into the desk with a sharp plunk .

Glancing to where a red-faced Katsuki was currently cussing out his fated one ( was that his version of flirting? ), Ochako nodded slowly. Honestly, what had Kyouka even expected asking their most emotionally constipated friend for advice?

Words now muffled by the table, the purple-haired girl continued, mournfully: “I don’t even think she’s into me…”

Now glancing at where Momo had just looked in their direction for the seventh time, she accidentally made eye contact with Tsuyu. For an instance, she’s at least grateful that she’s not the only one suffering from this one , very tiny, small thing.

When Ochako envisioned snuggling up with that omega friend group and talking about their crushes, she’d kinda expected those omega best friends to have common sense. And even after she’d realized that cutesy group wasn’t ever going to happen with Kyouka and Katsuki involved, she still hadn’t expected the duo to be this oblivious. Kyouka watched gorey movies before going to bed every night and Katsuki literally blew up anything he had an issue with.

Who knew such hardcore people could be no better than pups with their first crushes when it came to romance?

“What if she’s thinking the same thing?” Ochako prodded, like a preschool teacher trying to nudge a three-year-old into picking up the crayon that’s the same color as the sky. “I mean, have you done anything to show her you like her?”

In the matter-of-fact way she always spoke— the way that sounded like she was saying duh without actually saying it, Jirou said: “Yeah, I’ve made intense eye contact with her a few times.”

Hypothetically, if Jirou was that preschooler, she would’ve just picked up the red crayon.

A few seats away, Bakugou had just very loudly called his fated one a knothead.

Hypothetically, if Bakugou was that preschooler, he would’ve just ate the blue crayon.

Hypothetically, if Uraraka was that preschool teacher, she would’ve quit by now.

They are so, so, so lucky they’re pretty .

“I meant something more assertive,” Ochako clarified, folding her hands into each other to keep herself from lunging across the table and strangling the other girl. No matter how oblivious Jirou was, that didn’t justify manslaughter.

“I… I mean, when Midnight was talking about partner work I was looking right at her . She even noticed me staring. And then she immediately chooses to work with Asui-san… Do you think they’re…?” Jirou continued, making a solid case for just how justifiable murder was in this situation. 

Uraraka was pretty sure Tsuyu wasn’t even romantically interested in general , much less in anyone in their class. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out with the way the beta rolled her eyes whenever conversations turned to dynamics and relationships. In fact, Ochako was pretty sure Kyouka had been right next to her when she made her aro -space engineer joke. And either way, with the way Momo kept looking over at them it wasn’t like the two betas were getting it on over there. 

“No,” Ochako said, patiently, instead of strangling the other girl. “I think Asui-san waved to get her attention instead of staring her down and hoping she’d get the hint.”

Kyouka scrunched up her nose. “So what? I should wave at her more often?”

Katsuki just told his fated he had a big head and didn’t deserve the head alpha position. 

Ochako wanted to bang her head against the wall.

“Kyouka, you know I adore you more than anything and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said, reaching out to grasp the other girl’s hands in her own. Despite what Jirou deserved for being an oblivious idiot about all of this, she felt the incoming blow needed to be softened at least a little bit. 

Reluctantly dropping her hands into the other girl’s, Jirou raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Given how quick she was to do so given her penchant for hating most physical touch, Kyouka was clearly in desperate need of help in this situation. Oh, she had it bad . “Yes, and I cringe every time you tell me. What did we agree about verbal affection?” 

“You mean what did you and Katsuki agree about verbal affection, I agreed to nothing, my stunning silver starlight,” Ochako corrected, only stopping there because Kyouka was starting to get a faint green tint to her skin and she didn’t want to hand in their assignment dripping in puke. Squeezing the other’s hands, she gave an apologetic look as she said: “Look, I’m only telling you this because I love you and want the best for you… but you and Katsuki have no game.”

Kyouka sputtered. “I– what ?”

“You just told me you made a move on someone and that ‘move’ was literally a staring contest.”

“I was enticing her with my gaze,” Kyouka defended, snatching her hands back.

Ochako couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. In all her dreaming, never once had she had to explain to her imagined friends the difference between a stare and a look .

“Enticing her with your gaze is giving her a once over or winking, not staring her down like she just killed your entire bloodline,” Ochako corrected, holding a finger up when Kyouka started to blubber out an excuse. Trying for encouraging, she lightened her tone a bit. “Look, all I’m saying is that you should try actually talking to her instead of weirdly staring at her . I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The bell rings and Katsuki jumps up and walks away from Todoroki fast enough to rival Iida’s speed. Almost as though the alpha has a contagious disease that he needs to get away from as quickly as possible. Todoroki is left with his mouth still open, looking adorably confused as he stares after the escaping blonde. 

Lips thinning, Kyouka said, “Well… she could do that.”

Ochako doesn’t even have the mind space to assuage her fears. Because then Katsuki throws up the door and says something mean, but that’s pretty typical and less important than the fact that there are sweet scents wafting into the room .

“Or that,” she vaguely hears Kyouka sigh as she does the exact same as Katsuki had seconds prior when she jumped from her seat and rushed to the door.

&

“I—“ the purple haired beta cut off, blinking slowly. There are impressive bags under his eyes that could probably hold enough luggage for a month long trip to Rome and his bedhead looks like a pair of wombats just fucked in it. In a way, he almost reminds Katsuki of their sleep-deprived homeroom teacher. Put him in a yellow sleeping bag and the blonde was sure they’d be nearly impossible to tell apart in all their sleep deprived glory. 

Eventually, the beta tiredly decided: “…I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

It’d probably be for the best. 

When he first opened the door, the crowd of unfamiliar students seemed on edge, anticipating something , but otherwise innocuous. The second Katsuki spoke the whole aura shifted. Almost as if the insult had been directed at all of them and their mothers’ instead of one very deserving beta, their stances instantly switched to battle-ready. Now they were downright murderous, scents of omegas and alpha becoming nauseating ly strong. 

But Mitsuki didn’t raise no bitch. He’d be damned if some r/nosleep motherfucker and his goonies scared him off. And anyway, it wasn’t like the comment wasn’t justified. Katsuki says it as he sees it. It’s not bullying to say the purple-haired boy looked like he came out of a 2013 Tumblr post, it was an astute observation . Crossing his arms over his chest, he drawled, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Eyebags. God knows you need it.” 

Eyebag’s eyes narrowed, but before he could speak again and continue their Bitch Off , Katsuki was roughly nudged to the side. Scowling, he rounded on whichever dumbass classmate decided to interrupt his stare down, but fell short when he realized who exactly it was. And this was exactly why he hated getting chummy with people. Now his morals were getting in the way and he had to bite his cheek and sit back to let Uraraka Ochako do whatever the hell she wanted.

Pink-Cheeks eyes were gleaming as she stared into the group, a bright smile lighting up her entire face. The excitement radiating off of her was nearly palpable, slapping Katsuki in the face in a way that’s painful as she assessed the group at large. Given they all looked pretty normal in their standard uniforms and hopeless, we-still-have-three-periods-left expressions, the blonde didn’t entirely get what had her panties in a twist until she spelt it out for him. “Wow! Is this an omega organization? I haven’t seen any on campus!” she beamed. 

Though the smells of all dynamics were roughly equally as strong, the aroma of omegas was just a pinch more overpowering. Sweet scents of every kind— flowery to sugary— were oversaturated to a degree that was nearly nauseating. And peering past Eyebags into the depths of the crowd, the blonde found softer facial features and smaller statures were mirrored right back at him. For whatever reason, a mob of omegas had crowded before their doors to block their exit. Katsuki, who hadn’t even known there were that many omegas at UA in the first place, found himself thrown a bit of kilter at the realization of it.  

Having been victim to her three hour rant on UA’s lack of an omega support system before, Katsuki was both happy for Ochako finally finding the space she wanted and the fact that he never had to listen to her go into her speech about the institutionalized rhetoric that ordained — honestly, he wasn’t quite sure. When she got into it, she got into it , to a point where the blonde couldn’t even follow (to be fair, it wasn’t just him. Both he and Earlobes were sharing confused looks throughout her entire rant).

However, that relief doesn’t last longer than a few seconds. 

In response to her overzealous question, the crowd of students burst into loud laughter.

Not the nice kind either. These cackles are pointed and shrill, a chorus of mockery at Pink-Cheek’s expense. 

It’s a scene straight out of one of the girl’s favorite romance dramas, where the main lead is getting bullied before the charming alpha swoops in to save her. Only, there is no alpha coming to save her and instead of being fucking lame enough to warrant those bullies (all the protagonists of her shows sucked. Katsuki would bully them himself if he could for making such shitty romantic decisions), all she had done was ask a simple question. Nothing that warranted the pointing and ridicule she was on the receiving end of.

“We’re Gen Ed and Class 1-B students,” Eyebags deadpanned, a wry grin on his lips. 

Smile frozen on her face and blush overwhelming her features, Pink-Cheeks mouths a soft ‘oh.’ The laughter only got louder at that, spurred on by the soft note, to the point where Katsuki decided that it was enough. Whatever the punchline was, it was stupid if it could shrivel up the girl’s elation so instantaneously. Feeling a surge of protectiveness over the girl who’d saved him not long ago, Katsuki shifted in front of her. “Great. Can you extras move the fuck outta the way so we can get to our next class?” he demanded, impatiently. 

No one budged. 

Normally when Katsuki demanded something in that tone, people jumped to make whatever it was happen. But Class 1-B and the General Education students were either truly stupid or just that eager to get their heads bashed into the wall as they lingered before them and, even worse for Katsuki’s blood pressure, began to talk .

“I thought there weren’t any omega in Class 1-A,” one of the omega extras said, a girl with a mushroom bob. 

Another beta extra scoffed, “I mean, are we sure they’re omega? I smell alpha arrogance from a mile away.”

“Bro, does your nose work? Blondie’s reeking candy.”

“You think any omega made it into 1-A, seriously?”

“Are you kidding? Of course there’s an omega or two in 1-A, else UA would probably get sued,” a shortest extra in the group, a beta, chided. “Look at them— easy on the eyes, strong scents. I mean, they’re clearly the token omega of the group.”

“ What the fuck did you just call me?” Katsuki snarled, latching onto the word instantaneously of all the rapid-fire accusations. Naturally, the pipsqueak jumped and rushed behind a taller person’s legs. An orange haired alpha that raised up her hands in a sign of surrender. 

“Hey, he didn’t mean anything by it,” she said, in a clear attempt to try and de-escalate the situation. An attempt that would’ve been much more successful had the runt not peaked out from behind her leg and reconfirmed, “yeah, I did,” in the same breath.

“Oh come on, he didn’t even say anything bad. I mean, I was going to call him a bitch so that was ten times nicer,” the shadow-y figure of an extra said. 

“Now that would’ve been way uncalled for,” the extra with hair growing up his chin chidded.

“Way,” the extra that looks like a steel Shitty-Hair agreed.

Could it get any worse ?

As though to answer this question, a blonde alpha pushes past the crowd of dimwits to stand before him and Pink-Cheeks. 

Bright blue eyes rolling over the duo ( a look , as Uraraka Ochako might call it), he smiled in the way that alphas did when they thought they were about to say something revolutionary. “Forgive us, I don’t know how we could’ve missed the fact that there are such ravishing omegas in Class 1-A. I’d love to make it up to both of you over lunch, my buttercups.”

Mina began to snicker from somewhere behind him, the first and only indication that anyone in his own class is actively listening to this bullshit. All of a sudden, the class that never shuts up can’t seem to find their voice, completely content to let Class 1-B and General Ed run through the omegas of their class. Not like Katsuki expected anything different of them–  and not like he needed them.

“Who the fuck are you calling–” Katsuki snarled, surging forward to scalp the blonde idiot. Charged up by the amount of new voices, still colliding and speaking over each other with even larger and bolder accusations, he’s overstimulated enough that he probably would’ve actually gone through with it. Judging by the way the front of the crowd stumbles back a few inches, he must look it as well.

He doesn’t get far in his attempted murder before a heavy hand on his bicep pulls him back into place. Bewildered and still seeing red, he’s unable to place the soft hand as Pink-Cheek’s before her soft voice and a cherry blossom scent is assuaging the crowd at large. 

“I apologize for the mistake. There are only three omegas in our class, so I was surprised to smell a bunch of sweet scents at our door so randomly,” the brunette said, mechanically. Pointedly, she doesn’t make eye contact with any of the other students, eyes firmly set on the floor. Shoulders drooping, and head angled downward, she’s the perfect image of a scorned pup. 

It’s a submissive gesture– an omegan gesture– meant to calm roused groups.

Katsuki’s stomach churned at the fact that it works . That Ochako is apologizing for getting excited about seeing other omegas on campus. That Ochako is apologizing for getting ridiculed by them .

The ginger Class-B alpha waves her hands frantically, a soothing wood-y scent wafting off her in response to the action. “No, no, I’m sorry. We’re the ones in your way,” she insisted, sounding genuinely apologetic. When neither Katsuki or Pink-Cheeks responded, she laughed nervously before continuing. “We just heard a lot about this class and wanted to greet you before the Sports Festival.”

The politically correct way of saying they were here to size up the competition. As nice as she was trying to paint it, there was no covering up the narrowed eyes and calculating looks. Every move they made was being cataloged by the students of General Ed and 1-B, marked down as a potential weakness to exploit during the tournament. Ready or not, the Sports Festival had begun the second Katsuki swung the door open.

And no matter what Half ‘n Half claimed, it already had everything to do with dynamics.

“We mostly came to see the Head Alpha,” announced a light voice near the front of the group. A classically pretty omega with long vines for hair. Something ugly curls in the pit of Katsuki’s stomach as she looks past him and Pink-Cheeks, eyes wide the way omegas’ are after just presenting. Hopeful and eager, trying to match gazes with every person they pass in the street for the chance that it’s them , the one , their fated . 

Katsuki swallowed hard and refused to address the fact that his discomfort originated in the fact that it was so clear those eyes were looking to match with the Head Alpha of Class 1-A. And that the Head Alpha of Class 1-A was Todoroki Shouto.

“ Some of us came to ogle at the Head Alpha,” the blonde alpha corrected with a snort, nudging Mother Nature playfully. The girl scoffed, pinkening prettily at her cheeks, but still continued to search shamelessly for her fabled moment. Katsuki couldn’t bite back his scowl quick enough. “But a majority of us came to warn him . If you’re done hiding behind your class omegas, won’t you come out?”

There’s no need to turn and look to where the rest of their useless class has gathered behind them, with the curious scents and noisy, pointless chatter pattering at his back. And either way, the moment the idiot Head Alpha does heed the threat and shift to the front of the group, Katsuki can already feel him. An acrid scent of mint, sharper than usual expands closer, settling over the 1-B and General Ed students as a threat of its own. 

Mother Nature’s lashes fluttered prettily and she glanced up with clear excitement. Katsuki pointedly looked to the side as a dozen other omega in the group followed her lead, all doe eyed and nervously chewed lips. Not because he cared or anything– what did it matter if a dozen or so omegas were clearly gunning after his fated? They had no claim over each other, and it wasn’t like Katsuki was interested in the slow, stupid, idiot, knothead. Nope. There was nothing there, so they could stare all they wanted , and it didn’t affect Katsuki at all. Nada. Not one bit.

It’s only after Uraraka pinched his bicep, that he realized he’d been letting off mini sparks in the palms of his hands.

“Finally, you’re done hiding,” the blonde alpha groused, a cutting grin overcoming his features. There’s a crazed look in his eyes as he watched where Half ‘n Half walked up on Pink-Cheeks and Katsuki’s other’s side, inching up and down his form with clear eagerness. A sharp contrast to the way he’d slathered his gaze over him and Pink-Cheeks moments before. Stepping forward, the alpha puffed out his chest and bared his teeth. “Class 1-A’s Head Alpha hasn’t lost in any past Sports Festivals, and this will be the year that changes. Don’t underestimate–”

Todoroki Shouto spared him half a glance before turning to Katsuki and holding out his forgotten shoulder bag. Lips curled in displeasure, he sounds miffed when he interrupts Blond Bitch’s clear challenge to say, “You know, it’s rude to walk away from someone when they’re still talking to you.”

Mother Nature’s eyebrows twitch in confusion, green eyes widening and very much not silver . The blonde alpha’s cheeks turn vivid at the quick dismissal. The General Education and Class 1-B students freeze at once at the glory of the Class 1-A Head Alpha. The most anticipated winner of the UA Sports Festival, practically foretold of taking the glory by all of his predecessors. The person they were willing to take seriously over the two omega who greeted them at the doorway first.

Pouting . 

No matter how regal Half ‘n Half’s features were, there was no other way to describe what he was doing as he stared down at the blonde omega, intentionally or not.

“If you want people to keep talking to you, then don’t say stupid shit,” Katsuki growled back, instantly forgetting the intense atmosphere in favor of rounding his ridiculous fated and his stupid expression. Though Katsuki would gladly take his offered challenge to not go easy on each other, their current context was proof of just how much dynamics were a part of the sports festival. Pretending it wasn’t was bullshit. “Quit making that stupid face. You look dumb.”

The alpha looks genuinely confused at that. But Confusion is Half ‘n Half’s resting face, so Katsuki thinks nothing much of it. “I didn’t say anything stupid. What did I say that was stupid?” 

“Everything you say is stupid!”

“That’s pretty rude too.”

“That’s the point !”

Todoroki’s lower lip trembled with clear restraint. The bag hung uselessly between them.

“Do the weird foreplay on your own time,” Eyebags eventually interrupted the staredown. When both Katsuki and Todoroki round on him with their own denials at the accusation (one very threatening and another perplexed ), he waved them off, lazily. “Put your fangs up. We just came for a quick look.”

Evidently, a few of them came for a lot more than just a quick look . To be clear, Katsuki still does not care about the amount of omegas still stumbling over each other to catch Todoroki’s attention. The stupid alpha can match gazes with whoever he wants. Even pretty omegas with flowers sprouting from their head and heart shaped faces and smooth, unblemished skin. Yep, he could make all the heart eyes at her he wanted. Sure. No problem. 

Snatching his bag back with much more force than necessary,  Katsuki’s next words were soured with frustration. “Yeah, whatever. Like what you saw, Eyebags?”

“I did,” the blonde alpha answered, readily.

“He wasn’t talking to you,” Todoroki informed, just as ready. 

The blonde alpha raised his hands in mock surrender. Katsuki opened his mouth to dare Half ‘n Half to judge who he was speaking to again ( though, he was right ), but thankfully for the ears of everyone closest to them, Eyebags is faster.

“I did too. Keep your shirt on, loverboy,” the purple-haired beta informed, clinically. Todoroki looked like he was trying very hard not to make the pouting expression from before. Ignoring the distressed look, the beta continued to drone on as though he was having an entirely different conversation than everyone else. “Did you know, since UA’s opening two hundred some years ago, the entrance examination process hasn’t been updated once?”

Katsuki hadn’t known that. But he also didn’t know why the beta thought now was the best time to go into a history lesson. For once, he finds himself appreciative of Mina’s loud intrusion when she demands: “So?”

Ochako spoke up then, from where she’d gone quiet at his side not long ago. Katsuki feels her before he hears her, her grip tightening on his arm and that aura that manifested around her whenever she was about to go into it about omega rights. Clearing her throat, her voice is still soft when she informed: “So, for the past two hundred years, potential students of UA have been undergoing examinations meant to test alphas ’ aptitude for heroic work.”

“ Huh , that’s BS!” Mineta immediately rebutted. But when no one else seems to echo his refusal, sudden revelations crashing down on them as they remembered everything from the tests and the interviews, he doesn’t have much backing. Even from Class 1-A, who seems normally always eager to dogpile on the silver dynamic.

Katsuki himself thinks back to his first interview. All the questions about his future, of if he wanted kids and when he wanted to be mated. He remembered after, when he and Deku spoke about it– how Deku had complained about the amount of questions he’d been asked about his future image concept. How he hadn’t once been asked to map out a future with his mate, what the timeline would be, and go to court on how he’d fit a hero career into it.

He thinks back to an exam that had been made for people with offensive quirks. For the rare handful of people who’d been born to two alphas, or, more likely, alphas.

Ignoring Mineta’s protest, the beta continued. “Now that you know, you can understand how a lot of us feel unjustified to have fallen just short of 1-A’s requirements,” he said, finally delivering the punchline of before. “For simply not having a knot .”

Seeming to take this as their invitation to the conversation finally, Class 1-A’s voice reluctantly joins the mix. 

Mineta persisted, because, of course , Mineta persisted. “But Katsuki-chan, Ochako-chan and Kyouka-chan made it. And, haha , I mean they clearly don’t have the right bits–”

“ Token omega, as we said,” the short extra repeated with a wave of his hand.

“That’s not fair to them,” Shitty-Hair began, slowly. “They made it based on their own merit–”

“ Hah , merit? That and a bit of something else…”

“That’s highly inappropriate of you to imply! As the representative of Class 1-A, I feel compelled to step in and–”

“That’s beside the point,” Eyebags said, hardly having to raise his voice to cut everyone off. For a second, Katsuki considers whether or not it’s the workings of a quirk, but then the boy is continuing. “Betas were the largest group to apply to UA this past year. Their scores on average were higher . And yet, I look at your class now, and it’s clearly alpha skewed, while most beta ended up in 1-B or General Ed. How does that make sense?”

It doesn’t. Nothing Mineta or Mina blubbered out could make it sound any better either. Truth settling over Class 1-A, they are uncharacteristically out of words once more.

“Class 1-A has always been an alpha class. You’ve always been a strong class. And we came to see that today. But instead? We found a fragmenting mess ,” Eyebags said, coolly and curt, reading them like a picture book. When his eyes square on Katsuki, the omega finds himself revisiting the thought that he would’ve won the Bitch Off. “You’re an omega, but you have the shitty attitude of an egomaniac alpha. And you–” Katsuki’s mouth is only partly open with a retort by the time the beta has turned to Todoroki. “You’re a sad excuse of a Class Alpha who’ll fail your legacy for the first time in history when you lose to one of us. The rest of you can consider yourselves forgettable.

“So yes, I like the mess of your class that I see, blondie,” Eyebags surmised, nonplussed by the way Class 1-A finally jumps to protest at his remarks. “This will be the year Class 1-A falls.”

The way he says it makes it sound like a fact, as though he’s a psychic giving an accurate prediction of the future. Class 1-B and General Ed are making stupid oohing and cheering sounds, including the stupid blonde alpha– congratulating him for his roast. Class 1-A’s protests sound weak in comparison, especially after being unable to come up for a reason why there were so many alphas in their class in comparison to the amount that applied. 

Despite himself, Katsuki finds himself turning to glare right at where Todoroki is already watching him. Though he’d just been called weak , an insult that would set off any alpha, there’s no proof that he’d even heard the remark, as passive as his expression is. “Dynamics have nothing to do with it?” he echoed the earlier sentiment, words lost amongst the stupid chanting 1-B and Gen Ed have started.

It was supposed to come off as sarcastic, but Todoroki nodded easily. Lips twitching the slightest bit, he reiterated, “UA history be damned.”

Surrounded on all sides by proof that it’s not damned – by the omegas of Class 1-B and General Ed who hate him for the fact of simply making it where they systematically couldn’t, for the fact that the Sports Festival had barely begun and it was a war of dynamics already, for the fact that Todoroki Shouto is wrong, wrong, wrong– Katsuki feels a rush of heat at that statement. From All Might’s refusal to meet his eyes to Class 1-A tacking shitty nicknames to the Sports Festival now, since he’d arrived at UA, everything had to do with dynamics.

Pretending this wasn’t was a fantasy. A dream.

Katsuki tipped his head upward, away from heterochromatic eyes and a sure expression. 

Once upon a time, UA had been a fantasy, a dream, too.

“Alright, break it up! Break it up !” Midnight shouts, about ten minutes far too late. “Don’t mosh pit in my doorway!”

!

A few days before the Sports Festival, All Might calls him to his office.

To congratulate him for his hard work.

Kacchan still looks at him with poorly hidden apprehension. Kacchan still sidesteps all his attempts at a one on one conversation. Kacchan calls him Midoriya now and doesn’t even look up to acknowledge him when he approaches.

“ Midoriya-shounen ,” All Might said, in the tone of someone who’d repeated themselves numerous times. Izuku set his eyes on him and tried to stay focused, tried for a second to appreciate the kind words without that gnawing pit in his stomach telling him he should be doing anything but. “What’s troubling you? Are you worried about not being able to use your powers without breaking limbs? Don’t fret, boy— even if you have a broken arm, that’ll just make it more impressive when you win.”

Izuku was worried about that actually. Since Kacchan had stopped talking to him, all of his progress had receded like some sort of karma for his actions. Back to square one, he regularly broke fingers to use his powers, only this time, he didn’t have a pretty blonde to nag at him after and sway him against doing so. 

Half of his class looked at him like he was some sort of pariah while the rest rubbed shoulders with him and assumed he was some sort of alpha supremist. Uraraka Ochako looked at him with thinly veiled disgust and acted like she needed to shield his best friend from him .Todoroki Shouto was even stepping in his way not to keep them apart now, and who knew with what intentions– the Sports Festival was the last thing on his mind. 

All Might said he did the right thing. All Might said he wasn’t in the wrong for anything. All Might gave him advice that he followed dutifully.

All Might was his hero.

Since school started, Izuku had lived and breathed to see that proud gleam in his eyes. Everything he did was to ensure he would take up the mantle of the next symbol of peace. He thought nothing mattered more than that. Nothing should matter more than that. 

“Nothing, it's just…” Izuku started hesitating when All Might set his gaze fully on him. Under the inspiring gaze, the words flooded up and out of him. In that moment, he needed nothing more than a good dose of his hero’s advice. “It feels like since I’ve come to UA, all I’ve done is hurt my best friend, He doesn’t even want to talk with me anymore. I just can’t help but wonder–”

“Midoriya-shounen. You are aware of how important this Sports Festival is, right?”

All Might’s voice is cold. But it’s also firm and steadying it, and hearing the order ridden within it, Izuku feels like he can droop his shoulder and relinquish all responsibility. That he can just listen and forget the hurt in red eyes, the feeling of his teeth tearing through skin, the fear that that was him . That he was capable of something like that . 

“You can’t afford to be distracted. You’re the next Symbol of Peace ,” All Might said, and it’s almost enough to stop the churning of Izuku’s stomach. “Bakugou-chan will get over it eventually. Maybe he’ll even talk to you if you impress him during the Sports Festival. But I promise you, he’ll be less inclined if you end up a loser in the first round. You need to focus .”

Izuku swallowed back his concern that he was doing something wrong. He tucked the thought that UA felt less like the dream it was supposed to be and more like a nightmare by the day. 

And he nodded, dutifully.

Chapter Text

Ten times worse than Fuyumi’s fated being a plain-faced grocery clerk, Shouto’s was the devil’s incarnate . Less an omega than he was a brat who didn’t know his place in the world, Bakugou Katsuki was every one of Todoroki Enji’s hopes and dreams in reverse . Brash and disrespectful; outspoken and opinionated– the blonde was what nightmares were made of. Not fit to be a top Pro Hero’s trophy mate, or, honestly , to be anyone’s mate in general. God help the person who eventually marked a claim on the omega’s neck, if there even was an alpha out there that would put up with his nonsense long enough to do so.

A single meeting was all it took for Enji to realize that there could never be a connection between the Bakugou and the Todoroki names. 

Going as far as to threaten legal action against the parents of every student in 1-A and the UA administration alike, he scrubbed and scraped until the mess was sparkling cleaned. In the eyes of the public, the little mishap of Shouto’s fating never happened. His son was still a willing bachelor and Bakugou Katsuki had no connection to the Todoroki’s. Magazines still reported about how charming a fated Shouto would one day make and omegas still stumbled over each other to meet his eyes whenever they were out in public together. In a few years time, Enji would finalize his deal with the Kambe family, and then his son would bump into his “fated”-- the darling heir to the richest conglomerate in East Asia– at a fancy gala. Meanwhile, Bakugou Katsuki would simply be a feral omega he’d shared a class with at UA, nothing more.

Unfortunately for Todoroki Enji, all his efforts were a mere speck of dust against a high school rumor mill.

In the end, it goes something like this:

“Class 1-A’s Head Alpha is so cold!” Komori Kinoko bemoaned, T-334 hours to the Sports Festival. Immediately after Midnight ushered the students from her door, the Class 1-B girls slipped into the second story bathroom for some recognizance, aiming to do some very serious strategy discussion (gossip about the hottest people in 1-A). “He didn’t even look at Ibara. No alpha just walks by Shiozaki Ibara with no reaction.”

“Well, I heard his quirk has something to do with ice,” Kendo Itsuka attempted to placate, ever the responsible Class Representative. Unfortunately for her, the girls around her were far too roused after the recent events to pay her and her pacifism any mind.

Yanagi Reiko, an omega who’d been particularly miffed when Todoroki Shouto accidentally nudged her as everyone tried leaving at once, snarked: “He probably thinks he’s too good for us.” 

“Any alpha that attractive is automatically stuck up. It can’t be helped,” the meek Kodai agreed.

Several hums of agreement, including the ever clueless Pony’s, reaffirmed the sentiment. After all, what else could they have been led to believe? Todoroki Shouto hadn’t made eye contact with a single person– and normally, the first thing an un-fated alpha did upon meeting a group of omegas, was quickly scan the group for that monumental flash of silver. It was common courtesy. The only reason Shouto wouldn’t have done so, was if he simply wasn’t interested in fating with a lowly Class 1-B omega.

“No, that’s not it,” Shiozaki interrupted, just as everyone seemed to board the same train of thought. As the prettiest omega in the class, if not the entire school, her words held enough weight to bring the locomotive to a screeching stop with just those words alone. Her next statement was enough to get the passengers scrambling off in an attempt to reach her station. “Even the cruelest alpha’s gaze would soften to a group of omega. Only a freshly fated alpha has no eyes for any omega but their own.” 

“You think Todoroki-san is fated ?” Komori squeaked, in disbelief, the first to regain her barings enough to speak. “But how?! And to who? Ibara-chan, are you his secret fated—“

“She’s not,” Tokage Setsuna cut in, shaking Komori’s shoulders in an attempt to settle her. Never one to leave others suspended in suspense for too long, the alpha was quick to continue, a knowing smirk on her face. “But she is right. I mean, there was only one omega Todoroki-san paid attention to the entire time we were at the door.” 

Outside of the bathroom, on their way to their next class, Sero and Kaminari shared a confused look at the sound of sudden high-pitched screaming. “What do they even do in there?” Kaminari muttered, bewildered.

And then it goes something like this:

Mineta wasn’t an idiot. Against a powerful masochist like Midoriya Izuku and the Head Alpha Todoroki Shouto, he didn’t stand a chance at the Sports Festival. It was a lose-lose situation for him, no matter what angle he looked at it. Might as well get something out of it.

T-236 hours to the Sports Festival, Monoma Neito met him in the library after classes ended for the day. His thin smile and lukewarm greeting did nothing to settle Mineta’s nerves. 

“I’m not supposed to talk about this…” he said eventually, after glancing around their little table three full times. Outside of what Todoroki's lawyers would do, there was also the fact that Bakugou was batshit insane. Fuck the court system, the omega would probably jump straight to bestowing the death penalty if he knew where he was and what he was doing. Suppressing a shiver, he continued, mostly to remind himself of why this was worth it: “But if you think you can get me Shiozaki’s number, I guess…” 

“Yeah yeah, cough it up,” Monoma (who didn’t even have Shiozaki’s number) ushered, impatiently. 

Really, Mineta was doing Todoroki a favor in the long run. It was shameful that more people didn’t know. Though a fating wasn’t a mating, it did stake a claim for an alpha, and as it was– with no one outside of Class 1-A truly knowing about it– Todoroki had no control over the blonde the way he should’ve. Telling himself this, the short alpha felt much more calm airing out their business. “Well… I guess you could say Todoroki-san’s greatest weakness has to be his fated, right?” 

Monoma balked. “I’m not going to bother some finishing school omega–”

“ Huh ?” Mineta cut him off, shaking his head. Though, he could understand how Monoma immediately jumped there. He was pretty sure the Todoroki were a traditional family, and one would expect any alpha from it would fate with a prime omega from Silver Dame or Finishing Belle. But alas, Todoroki Shouto was unlucky enough to get saddled with a new-age omega. “No dude, his omega’s in our class .” 

If anything, Monoma looked even more aghast. “ What .”

And like this:

T-168 until the Sports Festival, on Twitter.

life in pink @ashiidomiina

feeling happy for the f8ed couple in class, but i also kind of wish they would both flunk out so i don’t have to feel so painfully single anymore :,)

Rawr XD @kaidok

Wait, @ashiidomiina don’t you go to UA now??? What do you mean fated couple in your class?????

And like this:

“You know, I heard the most interesting thing this morning,” Nejire Hado gushed, T-76 hours till the Sports Festival. 

Tamaki Amajiki didn’t look up from his bento. Nejire Hado heard the most interesting thing that morning– must be a day of the week ending in ‘Y’. 

Biting the bullet, Mirio Togata gave an exasperated smile. Knowing the blue-haired alpha, interesting could be anything between a massive villain attack on the other side of town or Mount Lady suddenly deciding to dye her hair green. “ Oh ?” he prompted.

The single syllable was enough to spur the practically vibrating girl onward, spitting out the newfound information at them, ready or not. “I heard a fated pair is up against each other in the Sports Festival this year. In the same class . Hey, hey, that means they’re bound to have to compete against each other, right? Do you think the omega is inconsolable right now? Do you think the alpha would actually be able to attack their omega?”

It’s only halfway through her questions that her two tablemates fully understand what she’s said. And even then, neither of them have a single answer for her questions. Bemused, Tamaki and Togata share a look over their lunches.

Half of Nejire’s interesting things wound up being untrue. She was such an airhead, believing everything she heard.

And finally, T-12 hours until the Sports Festival, it goes something like:

UA Sports Festival to Host First Ever Match Up Between a Fated Couple

Top Hero School Promotes Violence Between Fated Pairings

Modern Day Romeo and Juliet: UA Fated Couple Forced to Compete Against Each Other Amid Roaring 56th Annual UA Sports Festival

Neitizans are NOT HAPPY with Sports Festival Line Up Including a FATED PAIRING: “It’s promoting domestic violence against omegas!”

Everything You Need to Know UA’s Class 1-A Head Alpha, Endeavor’s Son and his Fated

UA Administration has Remained Silent after Releasing its Official Statement Asking for “Patience in this Delicate Matter.”

Slime Villain Captures Blonde Omega: Links

&

“You want me to read this?” Katsuki asked, T-37 minutes till the Sports Festival. Where he’ll stand before both the sold out arena and a global audience of millions. If anyone should be getting cold feet, it was him . Not the two seasoned Pro Heroes nervously sweating before him now. 

It’s not a joke. Cementos and All Might look dead serious and from what he skimmed through of the sheet of paper, it’s not written like some silly prank. Moreso, it’s written like two full grown alpha had plugged the words ‘omega’ and ‘ Sports Festival ’ into ChatGTP and it spit out the most generic speech it could manage. Twice, Katsuki’s gaze had landed on the words ‘silver power’ and had to keep himself from crumbling up the bullshit and shoving it down both of their throats.

“Not word for word, Bakugou-chan,” All Might corrected, in a warning type of way that foretold if Katsuki did, he’d be flagged by numerous plagiarism machines. They so had used ChatGTP. Clearing his throat, the man continued, in the same way Katsuki had watched him warn supervillains throughout his youth against their evildoings. (And wasn’t that just great? The Symbol of Peace was treating his speech like it was an incoming attack against society as they knew it). “We just wanted to give you a bit of guidance for what you should be speaking about up there….”

Neither Cementos or All Might guts to meet his eyes, so Katsuki felt perfectly justified in rolling them. “Then what was the prompt for?”

Three weeks ago, a bit after the Sports Festival had been announced, Aizawa had come to him with a stack of papers and clear reluctance. Together, they’d peeled through almost every UA Sports Festival speech (including Tanaka Aki’s, whose speech was twelve pages long, single-spaced ) and Katsuki was given a short prompt of: Speak of your excitement for the festival from the perspective of a young, competing candidate. Looking through the speeches such a prompt would produce– from the overly wordy to those who used it the speech to shoutout their social media– it was clear there was a lot of space and absolutely no regulations. 

Katsuki doubted any of the alphas that came before him had been given a guidance speech, half an hour before they were set to speak.

“It was pretty broad, don’t you think Bakugou-chan? And you are the first of your kind to make this speech, it’s a lot of pressure on you,” All Might says, like he was doing Katsuki a favor by trying to take his voice away. Cementos at least has the gall to look a bit embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously, but the blond hero Katsuki had always idolized, barrels onward resolutely without any shame. “We just wanted to give you something to lean back on. You know, just in case.”

Paper crunching slightly under the force of his hold, Katsuki remembers a time not long ago when he’d promised himself that striking blue eyes would one day see him. A time when he wanted nothing more than to be recognized by the Number One Hero in Japan. Only now, he wondered how he could ever expect a blind man to see jackshit?

“Thanks,” Katsuki eventually grit out, forcing a smile on his face. 

All Might made a pleased sound. But Cementos finally glanced at him then, and judging by the way his face somehow became even greyer , it was clear his smile wasn’t all that convincing.

Dynamics have nothing to do with it– maybe for all the Head Alpha who came before him who weren’t handed guidance speeches. Maybe for Todoroki Shouto, an anticipated winner simply for his place in the class alone. Maybe for someone who wasn’t the first omega to be giving this speech in UA history.

But for Bakugou Katsuki, dynamics seemed to be wrapped around his every move, tangling him like a nest of vines. Tugging and tightening, and squeezing the air from his lungs and leaving him alone to choke on the unfairness of it all.

God, he hated silver. God, he hated how his every action was echoed by the fact that he was an omega , oh my god. He hated what they expected of him. He hated what they didn’t.

And he wanted .

He wanted so badly what Todoroki had said to be true. Wanted heterochromatic eyes to gaze at him as solid and sure as they had when Todoroki claimed that he would take him seriously . He wanted so badly to not be coddled or treated like he needed to be led. To have his attacks matched with full strength, to prove himself to a crowd of millions and All Might’s blue eyes. 

To prove that he wasn’t some token omega. To show that he had grown . He was so much more than the omega that was nearly claimed because he couldn’t stand his own against Midoriya fucking Izuku. He was so much more than the omega who was captured by the slime villain, and smothered in disgusting green goo. He was so much more than just an omega .

Bakugou Katsuki had never had much trouble getting what he wanted from alpha.

=

One of the few things the Todoroki household did together aside from tense dinners, was watch the annual UA Sports Festival.

When Natsuo was younger, he looked forward to it all year. Fuyumi and mom would make more snacks than what could fit on their little coffee table and Touya and him would yell WORLDSTAR at the top of their lungs during all of the one-on-one matches. Back then, Shouto was just old enough for Enji to begin isolating him, but the old bastard apparently viewed the Sports Festival as just educational enough to warrant a few free days for the poor pup. Natsuo looked back on it fondly as one of the few times he got to tease and poke at his youngest brother with Touya, before Touya presented and mom lost herself and everything went to shit.  

Enji never sat through a full festival with them. He’d stay for the start of it, making annoyed comments about how weak the newer generations were getting and blowing a gasket whenever they spotlighted an omegan student. But eventually, he’d be called away for work and leave the family to actually enjoy themselves away from his oppressive presence. Absent, as he was prone to being.

Even now, he was still up in the concession area, yelling into his phone at some lawyer and scaring off his few fans while he and Fuyumi went ahead of him to find their seats. 

“Those articles really got to dad. I hope Shouto is doing okay,” Fuyumi cooed, glancing over her shoulder as they descended the steps towards the area set aside for the first year parents and next of kin. The Sports Arena nearly drowns her voice out, as loud as the screams and chatter are, but Natsuo is close enough to catch the jist of her words. 

And promptly burst into laughter at them.

Waving off her accusing look, he shouted back, “I sent him one an hour ago and he sent me a cat compilation video back, he’s fine.”

As a child of the second top ranked Pro Hero, and the most controversial Pro Hero to date, they were no stranger to a bad article every now and then. If anything, the fating getting out when Enji had done everything in his power to keep it hidden was hilarious. Watching the old bastard scramble to cover it up all day while Shouto had spent that same time watching Funniest Cat Videos of 2157: If You Laugh You Lose was going to be the highlight of Natsuo’s year. 

“Shouldn’t he be preparing to compete,” Fuyumi chided, sounding disappointed and amused at once. 

Knowing Shouto, his idea of preparation was going to bed at 2AM rather than 4AM the night before and actually eating breakfast that morning. Fuyumi shot him a knowing look and they both nearly tripped down the rest of the steps trying to reel in their laughter at the thought of the helpless boy. 

“What’s so funny over there?” a familiar voice prompted, loud and clear even over all the screaming. Natsuo felt his smile grow ten times wider as he turned to find the Bakugous in the seats closest to the field. Several other parents’ heads jutted up at the disturbance, but Natsuo hardly paid them any mind as he rushed down the rest of the way to reach the couple in the row closest to the field.

“Mitsuki! Masaru!” Fuyumi squealed, getting to the couple first and enveloping them both into a tight hug. Much to the chagrin of their father, they’d stayed in contact after the initial meeting, which probably wasn’t saving them any grace with the release of the articles. Given the most recent post on Fuyumi’s Instagram was at a fashion event with Masaru and Natsuo had posted a plethora of pictures with Mitsuki on his story, journalists had plenty of proof to pick from when exposing the connection between their families. Enji, who had never really understood how social media worked, was in for an ugly shock in the next few hours.

Squeezing Masaru in a half hug of his own, Natsuo greeted with just as much enthusiasm as Fuyumi before easily sliding beside them. The old bastard would throw a bitch fit when he found them up close and chummy with exactly who he was trying to claim they had zero connection to, but that just made it all the more merrier. Natsuo lived and breathed to make Todoroki Enji’s life as difficult as possible. If that meant sharing popcorn with the hilarious parent’s of his brother’s fated before the cameras, he wouldn’t be complaining. And Fuyumi, who was a bit more sympathetic to their father’s cause, couldn’t seem to resist as she gingerly took the offered seat next to them as well.

Mitsuki’s normal volume sounded almost like an indoor voice now that it was slightly muddled by the loud arena. For once, everyone within a ten meter radius of her wouldn’t need earbuds solely because of her voice alone. “So, who do you think’s going to beat the shit out of the other first? Romeo or Juliet?” she asked, spurring the siblings into another fit of cackles. 

That had been the first article Natsuo saw that morning, and the first he’d sent to Shouto. Shouto sent back a TikTok of a dancing calico.

“Is Shouto handling it well?” Masaru asked, after giving his wife an exasperated look. For an alpha, he was more considerate and thoughtful than the golden dynamic tended to be. Natsuo admired him for it and he was pretty sure it meant a lot to Fuyumi, who had only ever known alphas for their aggression and anger. Even now, Fuyumi’s eyes crinkled despite the topic at hand, easing more comfortably into her seat.

Swallowing down a handful of popcorn, Natsuo nodded. “He’s used to this, being Endeavor’s son and all. How about Katsuki?” Though Bakugou was a pretty famous name as well, most of the articles involving them were based around runway shows or clothing line releases. Advertisement and critique pieces on their color choices and style innovations, not gossip columns on the son’s dating life. It was a dramatic, sudden shift that anyone would be taken aback by.

Anyone who weren’t the Bakugous’, at least.

“He sent us the article about UA promoting violence and said he was excited to beat the shit out of everyone,” Mitsuki gushed, the way a mother would when speaking about her pup’s college admission letters or a straight A report card. Natsuo bit back another peal of laughter. 

How fitting for the two boys to clearly not care about the fating being public information, while their father was pulling his hair out at the mere thought of it. The man was pouring out his energy for nothing , trying to mop up a spill that didn’t even exist. All that effort for Natsuo and Mitsuki to throw arms over each other’s shoulders and hold up peace signs when the large jumbotron up above showed off their section.

Time passed quickly in the presence of the Bakugous, and by the time Present Mic’s voice announced over the loudspeaker that the ceremony would start in five minutes, the family section had filled up nearly completely. There was hardly any room left for Enji to sit when a pink couple and their five pups filed in to their left, much less when Mitsuki reluctantly slid to the side to offer a seat to a quiet green-haired woman between her and her husband. By the time Enji angrily makes his way towards them, giving Natsuo a look that he knows he’ll have to answer to later, he’s stuck next to a crying pink toddler and a Masaru who only scoots over a mere millimeter to make more space for him. 

“Hello, Bakugou-san,” Enji greeted, tightly, as he awkwardly squeezed into the slim area. Masaru smiled pleasantly, but wasn’t able to respond before Present Mic’s voice rouses the arena up.

“ Yo yo yo !” the blond hero exclaimed, a beacon where he stands in centerfield beckoning for the students to line up by class order. Natsuo leans as far forward as he can, squinting until he finds Shouto taking the spot next to Momo near the back of the group. He hears the moment Mitsuki finds Katsuki near the front, and it almost seems like Katsuki did as well with the way he shot a very clear scowl in their direction. “You’re tuned into Present Mic radio for the 56th annual roaring Sports Festival! Let me hear you holler!”

Holler the crowd does. Natsuo briefly regrets not bringing a pair of earmuffs as the screams grow louder and louder with each year to line up on the field. Several students excitedly jump and wave in the family sections while others blow kisses or wink directly at the jumbotron cameras. Natsuo isn’t taken aback by the sudden chaos on the field. No matter the year, this scene stays the same. It’s the first time the students are introduced to the world as the future generation of Pro Heroes, it’s a given that both the pups and the world alike will embrace each other with open arms and enthusiasm. 

But his brother and his fated appear on the large screen an awful lot, the blonde looking particularly vexed while Shouto doesn’t even seem to notice until Momo dutifully points it out to him every time. By the time everyone is in their proper places on the field, Natsuo has seen his brother and his fated on the screen enough times that the students around them seemed to have taken notice as well. A blond boy at Katsuki’s side began to hold up his phone with random sayings written on it each time the camera pans to their area (‘ scoopity poop’ and an images from All Might’s old PSAs) and the students around Shouto have taken to doing the renegade and various other TikTok dances.

Shouto’s deadpan expression as the pink skin girl at his side was doing helicopter hands would’ve been humorous if Natsuo doesn’t have a sinking feeling about why the fated couple is getting so much screen time compared to the rest of the student body.

He could’ve been imagining it, but he was pretty certain the crowd got noisier whenever either of them were shown. And not particularly with zealous cheering. Less than celebratory, a few shouts sound almost like the startings of a protest, especially when it’s the blonde omega on the screen. Rather than welcoming them with open arms as they are the rest of the students, a lot of the audience seems to be baring arms against them. Mitsuki’s smile was the slightest bit tighter when Natsuo turned to look at her, and for the first time, he realized what big news the fating getting out actually is . 

“How long before Katsuki punches that cameraman?” Mitsuki mused aloud, pointing to where one in particular kept circling the blonde like a vulture waiting for him to drop dead. 

Natsuo would’ve bet on him doing so within the next second, but luckily for the state of the man’s lens, Present Mic hops up onto a stage before his fist swings and all cameras swerve to the Pro for the introductory speeches. 

Having heard the same speech since he was old enough to squeeze up on the couch between Fuyumi and Touya, Natsuo knew it by heart at this point. The proclamation that this year was one of the strongest they’d ever seen (or rather, since the year before and until the next year) and they were proud of their ever growing student body. The blatant advertisement for UA and hopes to see every kid in the audience in their school one day. Yada, yada, yada. It got repetitive, but at the very least, Natsuo is grateful that the crowd had something else to focus on beyond his clueless brother. 

This gratitude lasts for a good few minutes.

Right when Present Mic should have been preparing to introduce the Class 1-A Representative to the stage, he goes off script . Having followed everything else beat for beat until that point, he sounds entirely unnatural when he states, “This year is special.” As he’s known for being one of the most lighthearted Proes, it’s even more strange to see such an earnest expression on his face, quieting the few people in the audience who hadn’t been paying attention to his voice before then.

“Normally, at this point we’d invite the top scorer of the UA entrance exams to the stage and you’d hear from the Head Alpha of Class 1-A,” Present Mic said, matter of factually. Nothing shocking. It’s an open secret that normally the top scorer is the Head Alpha of 1-A, given the Head Alpha was supposed to be the most powerful member of the golden dynamic in the class of first years. 

When Natsuo curiously asked who it was a week ago, Shouto had just shrugged the question off. Given he’d been isolated by their father throughout his youth and grew up pretty sheltered, Natsuo just assumed he didn’t know or care who it was. Shouto had never attended a public school before UA, and didn’t have the practice of learning social pack hierarchies. He probably wouldn’t recognize who it was unless explicitly told to him by Momo. Or at least, that was Natsuo and Fuyumi’s firm belief until waking up that morning to dozens of articles calling their younger brother the Head Alpha.

When Natsuo sent him an article with the headline Everything You Need To Know About Class 1-A’s Head Alpha, Todoroki Shouto , Shouto responded with the Chipi Chipi Chapa Chapa cat video
.  

When the camera panned to his brother’s cavalier face again , Natsuo imagined that he was probably zoned out, thinking of that very video.

Really, Present Mic was being dramatic about the whole ordeal. Shouto had gotten into UA by recommendation, without the chance to perform in the exams. It wasn’t the first time a Head Alpha had done so, and there had been a handful of years where another alpha in the class stepped forward to make the speech. The Head Alpha not making the speech wasn’t as big a deal as Present Mics’ suspenseful pause was making it out to be. It was just that this year’s Head Alpha hadn’t even been a candidate for the speech in the first place.

But then Present Mic ended the pause to drop the bomb and suddenly Natsuo felt as though it should’ve been longer. At least long enough for him to swallow down the sip of drink he’d just swallowed. “But this year, for the first time in U.A. history, an omega outscored the entire class of new students!”

Natsuo gracelessly chokes on a mouthful of Sprite. 

Suddenly the pause and the gravity Present Mic spoke with made complete sense. Natsuo imagined if his brother wasn’t the Head Alpha and he had no idea who Bakugou Katsuki was, he would’ve been gawking and screaming with the rest of the audience. This was a quality storyline for this year’s Sports Festival. Not only did an omega claim the top exam score, but there could be no other person besides the Head Alpha’s fated that did so. (Not that Natsuo assumed the other omegas in 1-A were weaker than the blonde, just that, he’s met Bakugou Katsuki). 

On the other side of the excitedly cheering Bakugou’s, his father has gone bone white. Even over all the hysteria, Natsuo can perfectly hear the man’s mental scream of: NONONONONO.

“Representing the students of Class 1-A, Bakugou Katsuki!” Present Mic predictably announced, amped up to compete against the sudden zeal of the crowd. 

Even Class 1-A seemed just as taken aback by the news. The blonde boy near Katsuki from before has his jaw hanging loose and another with tape dispenser hands’ eyes are nearly popping out of his skull. Of all the students the cameras pan on, only Shouto appears as unresponsive as before. For a second, Natsuo wonders if his brother was hearing anything at all beyond chipi chipi chapa chapa dubidubi daba daba .

Normally then the presenting teacher would step back and make room for the class representative, but when Katsuki bounds up to the stage, the Pro Hero steps forward and offers an arm. Seeing how irritated the blonde already was by the cameras following his every motion, Natsuo is surprised he doesn’t bite off the offending limb. Instead, he civilly (for a Bakugou, at least), side steps it and heads for the microphone. The first tell that this would certainly be a special opening speech. 

But likely not in the way the loud Pro Hero was expecting, a clear line of worry tightening on his forehead.

There’s a beat of silence as he approaches it. Anticipation of what he could say, of an empowering speech, an acknowledgment that this was the first time in history an omega has made such an accomplishment. For the fact that this was the Head Alpha’s fated, and the public was hearing him speak for the first time. Whatever he said, these words would go down in UA history.

“He’s so pretty,” one of the pink teenagers at their side cooed into the silence. Her siblings giggled in agreement.

Another voice, further behind them, questioned: “That’s Todoroki Shouto’s fated, right? What a powerful pair…”

“ Oh great , now the Sports Festival is an Omega Rights rally,” a louder voice protests less politely. Natsuo’s surprised it’s not his father who says it, certain the old fart is bottling up the same sentiments as his face slowly flushes as red as his hair.

Mitsuki looked as though she would’ve shot up to find out who said such a thing, but then Bakugou Katsuki finally leaned into the mic to make his anticipated speech and everyone lost their words for a good ten seconds.

“I just want to say…” Katsuki began, voice rough and tone bored. Watching the way several people’s eyebrows shoot up, Natsuo remembered the first time he heard the pup. Normally omegas spoke in more docile, softer voices and ducked their heads. But Bakugou Katsuki’s head is high and his dramatic red gaze trails over his classmates in disinterest as he concludes with: “I’m going to win.”

The first UA Sports Festival Commencement Speech to be given by an omega is four words long .

Enji looks like he’s about to faint. 

Present Mic gaped as Katsuki backed away from the mic. The students on the field began to shout and the audience buffers for a good few seconds before beginning to yell out their own shock. 

Meanwhile, Mitsuki and Masaru are inconsolable with laughter.  

In all the screaming and shouting, the camera narrows in on Shouto once more. Next to Momo, who’s rubbing at her temples in clear exasperation and the gawking pink alpha on his other side, his resolute expression stands out. 

Gaze determined and expression serious, Shouto nodded curtly to the challenge.

Natsuo felt an exasperated smile twitch onto his lips.

Chapter Text

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“Wait okay, give me a minute to understand this,” Aizawa started, rubbing at his temples. “You want us to do separate matches for omegas and alphas?”

Like they did in the 2000s. A time that the public now openly refers to as a dark spot in UA's history. A time when omegas and alphas were openly considered non-equal. 

“I’m just trying to look out for the school’s reputation here,” All Might argued. Aizawa can’t stop the way his mouth slightly gapes at that. In what world did reviving dynamic segregation make them look good ? “It’s been fifteen minutes since that boy made his speech and you can’t log into any social media without being slammed with international newspapers and celebrities talking about it. I saw Hatsume Miku make a tweet about it. Kanye West said something.”

“Last year, Kanye West said the UA Sports Festival is an excuse for an illuminati meetup,” Aizawa deadpanned.

“He has a point,” Midnight interjected. And then she quickly raised her hands at all the bewildered looks. “Not the Illuminati part– I’m agreeing with Toshinori. I mean, the public is losing it . ”  

Immediately following the commencement ceremony, the teachers had regrouped to go over the itinerary one final time. At least, that had been the original plan as they all gathered in the skybox up above the arena. Only, Nezu hadn’t been able to make it through a single sentence before Present Mic forgot to turn off his volume where he was hiding his phone under the table and a TikTok audio of Bakugou Katsuki’s speech over some popular K-Pop song blasted at full volume. 

Like a dam bursting, everyone had blurted their opinions at once. Aizawa found himself under the scrutiny of the rest of the staff who, despite their differing reasoning, seemed to mostly agree that Katsuki had made the worst possible speech he could've for UA’s reputation. All while Blackpink’s How You Like That played faintly in the background. 

Only a few years ago, a Head Alpha had used this same speech to call out her cheating boyfriend. There was a rumor that once someone had used it to show off their ( nonexistent ) rapping capabilities. But sure , an arrogant omega was an international scandal and an affront to their legacy. 

“Since when does UA run things according to what an American celebrity says?” Vlad King asked, as one of the few with his head still on his shoulders in all of this. 

“Since that American celebrity is echoing what the rest of the world is saying,” Midnight shot back, a bit more bite in her words than necessary.

There’s a beat of silence, staticky before the start of a storm.

And then everyone speaks at once.

Ever since the Battle Drill Incident, Class 1-A had a clear divide running between them. It wasn’t in his interests to meddle in his class’ social lives, so Aizawa always pretended he didn’t notice the way the class all switched seats a month into the semester and began to cluster in clear groups– one centering on Bakugou Katsuki and the other on Midoriya Izuku (the problem children). In his mind, he figured their argument was juvenile, a child’s spat that would eventually unravel and leave them all holding hands and singing kumbaya. 

Staring at the way half of the staff was leaning more into All Might's space while the rest clustered together, Aizawa revisited his thoughts on the argument. 

Maybe this argument was bigger than just some schoolyard taunts.

Every year there was a minor public meltdown over the fact that omegas and alphas competed against each other and could potentially even fight each other ( though , the committee rarely allowed one-on-one alpha and omega matches to happen). Somehow, throwing a fated couple into the mix made that ten times worse. As though a fated pairing competing was crossing some invisible line. 

Half the globe was under the delusional impression that Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki were star-crossed lovers, forced by the evil UA to compete. Like some sort of Hunger Games knockoff. The other half— who had eyes and watched Bakugou flip Todoroki off the second he stepped off the stage— was going into cardiac arrest at the thought that such a brash omega could exist. Claiming he was a horrible example for young omegas and did not need to be platformed.

While Aizawa agreed Bakugou Katsuki probably did need to come with a PG-13 rating for language alone– he balked at the fact that the public alternated between ‘ he needs to be beat into submission by his alpha’ and ‘ he’s still an omega! He shouldn’t be fighting alpha!’ He balked at the fact that All Might wanted to punish Katsuki, and all the omegas at UA, for the public’s unwarranted scrutiny. At the fact that four measly words were bad enough to warrant such a prestigious organization as UA to go into panic mode. 

Glancing out the window, to the still clamoring, colorful crowd, Aizawa’s jaw set. 

“Either way!” All Might said, cutting off the beginning of Ectoplasm’s argument. A sharp contrast from his hope-inspiring grin, he’s wearing a grim, disillusioned frown. Before he opens his mouth again, Aizawa already knows what point he’s about to make. His blood is boiling before the blonde makes it through his first sentence. “We don’t need a repeat of the Battle Drill incident. The last thing UA needs is for something like that to go public. Obviously, tensions are heightened, and having alphas and omegas compete so closely won’t help with that.”

Aizawa had bit his tongue a lot regarding the Battle Drill incident. He’d kept his opinions close to himself and stayed out of the student’s silly debates on it. The way he saw it– it didn’t happen during his class hours, it wasn’t his business. He’d never been much of an omegan rights rally-er, and as brash as Bakugou Katsuki was, he hardly seemed like someone who needed people to rally for him.

But, really, it wasn’t so much as a silly debate . It had sprung on far beyond that. This had gone on too far.

Aizawa’s mouth opens before he can think better of it. “It wouldn’t, because there are people here who would actually stop something like the Battle Drill Incident before it happens.”

There’s a lull in the conversation. 

Toshinori gaped at him, as though this is news to him (and it may as well could’ve been, given that no one had given him any slack about the situation before). Vlad King looks borderline amused and Present Mic is grimacing. Midnight is glaring at him as though he was the one out of line. 

Nezu chuckled nervously.

“I appreciate everyone’s input here,” the mouse eventually insisted, when no one found the breath to speak and an unsettling silence had stalled the discussion. “I know there are some concerns regarding the participants this year, but UA is founded on the basis of fairness. We won’t make exceptions or change our traditions for two students.”

“Nezu,” Midnight began where All Might still couldn’t, plump lips pursed, displeased. 

The rodent spared her a kind glance before continuing. “The first event is a race, anyway. There would be no need for fighting. As far as we know, Todoroki and Bakugou might even work together. I think if anything, they’ll probably avoid each other.”

The look All Might has on Aizawa, cold and unyielding, hints that he hardly believes this.

Glancing down towards Jumbotron up ahead of the skybox, where Bakugou Katsuki is shown shouting something clearly obscene to a fellow classmate, Aizawa pursed his lips. 

<>

Shouto can be clueless. 

Momo was pretty sure she’d been his first, and only , friend for the first sixteen years of his life. If UA wasn’t as temptingly prestigious as it was, Todoroki Enji probably would’ve made it so he didn’t meet anyone else his age into his early twenties . 

Being homeschooled for as long as he was, there were certain things he’d never quite understand, no matter how much Momo tried to break it down to him. Introducing social pack dynamics felt like she was speaking Spanish to someone who only knew Arabic. Explaining the Head Alpha Position felt like trying to communicate with an alien from galaxies away. These days, whenever he had a question, it was easier just to tell him it’s an omega thing or it’s a beta thing and leave it at that. Else they’d spend the rest of the week going back and forth on why he can’t just ask Uraraka-san when her next heat is, oh my god, Shouto . No, it doesn’t matter if it’s because you’re trying to plan out a group project together– no, you can’t just tell her when your rut is! 

Going into the Sports Festival, a horrible feeling had been welling up in her gut. Whispers had started up in the cafeteria, and eyes had begun to shift during passing period. The attention hadn’t bothered Shouto, who’d spent the past few weeks focused on training over anything else, but as a beta, Momo couldn’t help but be alert and aware. Suspicious that something was brewing. That they were walking straight into the winds of a hurricane. 

If the dozen news articles with her best friends’ name on them was the thunder, Bakugou Katsuki’s speech was the lightning.

Four measly words , and he had unleashed a downpour. Momo couldn’t open any social media app without either an angry rant about the speech or an edit of Shouto’s face. Normally, the Sports Festival was a global affair, deemed a replacement Olympics ever since quirks added an unfair advantage to most sports. But even then, the best it would’ve gotten was a trending meme of some student making a dumb face during the commencement ceremony or betting pool over who would win.  

There were politicians from Mexico commenting on whether it was okay for a fated pairing to be forced to compete against each other– whether it was okay for omegas and alphas to compete at all . Celebrities from France tweeting about silver power. #IMGOINGTOWIN was trending on dozens of platforms, right above or below #FATED and, this one really got her, #TODOBAKU. 

And Shouto was shrugging it off. Like it was nothing. Half the globe was threatening to call the police and report him for abuse if he so much as touched Bakugou, and the rest saw him as a tragic K-Drama male lead. And he was casually stretching. “I found out what ‘tea’ is earlier,” he said, informingly. “Asui-san told me it means ‘gossip.’”

Lined up before the start of the first round of the tournament, surrounded by dozens of other students– half of which are very un-discreetly recording him– Shouto wants to talk about internet lingo .

Clueless . Clueless . So fucking clueless .

“Are you–” Momo paused, clearing her throat and shooting a look up at the jumbotron, where Bakugou was displayed in a deep lunge as he barked something out at Uraraka Ochako and Jirou Kyouka. Eyes lingering on the purple haired girl, she stumbled over her next words. “I mean. Have you checked your phone?”

Shouto blinked at her. “Yeah, Fuyumi called. She said your mother’s here.” 

“I know,” Momo said, feeling like she was stuck in a fever nightmare . 

What were the chances that he really was entirely unaware of everything going on? Maybe he didn't notice the suspicious aspect of his face appearing on the jumbotron so many times– he had grown up under the lens of the paparazzi, after all. For all he knew, the attention could be solely because of his father’s status as the Second ranked Pro Hero of Japan. Nothing to do with fatings or social pack dynamics or– oh, how she shudders – #TODOBAKU .

And if that were the case– if he was oblivious to what was going on and in danger of making it so much worse because of that– well. Momo was pretty sure she was his first and only friend. It was her duty to break down pack dynamics for him and shield him from awkward situations and bad publicity. 

And Bakugou Katuski had shown to be the worst publicity .

“Hey, Shou,” Momo said, glancing at where the blonde is still shouting at a snickering Uraraka near the front of the group, looking every bit like what an omega isn’t. Angry, brash, disrespectful. Mouth unhinged around dirty words, violent eyes narrowed to slits. Distasteful headlines about his disrespectful speech flash across her mind. Momo’s mouth hardens into a firm line as she warns – “I think you should avoid Bakugou-san during this, okay?”

Shouto doesn’t respond at first, dropping into a squat. Half convinced he hadn’t heard, Momo opened her mouth to repeat the advice just as the alpha rolled his shoulders back and arched an elegant eyebrow. She inwardly curses at the expression on his face, the same one that screams what-do-you-mean-I-can’t-just-tell-Iida-to-be-Head-Alpha .  “It’s a race. Isn’t the point to avoid everyone?”

Rubbing at her temples, Momo thinks of a way to break it down to him that doesn’t include pulling up a viral thirst trap of him and his fated . “You need to avoid him differently than you avoid everyone else,” she insisted, in the tone of a cajoling kindergarten teacher. Shouto’s eyebrow inches higher with every word. “Don’t even look at him. Don’t get close to him. Just, trust me with this.”

“Uh- huh ,” Shouto agreed, but the uh is weak, and it’s more a mildly judgmental huh than anything. Momo feels the tone is unwarranted.

“Shou,” Momo groaned. They don’t have time for this, seconds between them and the starting of the Sports Festival. “Just promise me you’ll keep your distance? I know you won’t get it now, but you’ll thank me later. It’s an omega thing, alright?”

Shouto raises from his squat, with a quiet hum. Momo almost mistakes it as an agreement, shoulders loosening the slightest bit, when he turns to her. 

His gaze is hardened in a way she’s unfamiliar with. Unyielding. Confused. Frustrated. Gray and blue are equally cold, freezing her in place. 

When she was a child, she would read about those eyes in tabloids. Back when they were arranged, before presenting, she had wanted to know everything about her could-be-mate. A romantic at heart, she’d always favored the magazines that called him a prince charming or a knight and shining armor. And of those, she’d always scoff at the quotes about how frigid and standoffish he could be. How he was a handsome prince, but also just a tad cold hearted.

Nonsense, she had thought, having grown up near him. He was just shy. Never cruel. 

“I can’t do that,” he said, stiffly. “Excuse me.”

“Excuse–” Momo repeats, startled. Never once in their friendship had Shouto dismissed her advice so adamantly. Maybe he’d question her, or look at her funny, sure. But to immediately walk away from her? To give her that look . Blinking slowly, she isn’t fast enough to catch the back of his shirt and force him to see reason before he’s crossing the field.

Towards the very person she just told him to avoid.

Mortified, Momo watched as the cameras around them began to rise, students clamoring together to catch sight of where Todoroki Shouto was approaching Bakugou Katsuki. The very person she just told him to avoid . The recent variable constant in every one of Shouto’s problems as of late. The omega that was hardly an omega at all.

Her fists clenched at her side.

&

“Oh, oh, look,” Pink-Cheeks insisted, shoving her phone up into his face for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. “This one’s claiming your eyes glassed over when you looked in Todoroki-kun’s direction.”

Katsuki gave her a baleful look over the top of the screen, not bothering to watch the TikTok. The last video claimed he said the speech purposefully facing where Half ‘n Half stood on the field (you know, where the stage was angled). The one before claimed something about mercury retrograde and their zodiac alignment. Apparently Taurus and Capricorns were highly compatible. Katsuki could’ve lived very happily without ever knowing that.

Within the forty-five minute break they were given to warm-up, social media exploded. Videos and tweets analyzing him and Half ‘n Half’s every movement amassed too many likes and retweets to make any sense. Genuine news publication companies were spouting out titles like ‘UA Sports Festival’s Steamy Romance’ and celebrities were giving public statements. As far as Katsuki was concerned, the world had turned upside down because he had maybe, accidentally, made eye contact with Todoroki Shouto one time in passing during the ceremony and said four words.

“Katsuki, why didn’t you tell us you were ‘irrevocably, undeniably in love with Shou-chan’,” Earphones questioned, criss-crossed on his other side. Smirk hidden behind her own phone, her eyes are alive with mischief, and Katsuki has zero interest in finding out what article is causing that expression. “Oh, or that you spend every day longing for–”

“Are you both done?” Katsuki huffed, swatting at both of their devices. Kyouka scowled immediately, hugging her precious phone to her chest, while Ochako only laughed lightly in response. “The first event starts in a fucking minute and you’re distracting yourself with that bullshit.”

“Oh, calm down . Literally all we have to do is run,” Earphones chided, eyes rolled skyward. Stalling where they landed on the skybox above the stadium, her eyes narrowed in clear irritation. “They have us waiting for forever for this shit to start. What’s the hold up?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s extra time to train, and if you cared about not losing, you’d be using it,” Katsuki sneered. “If either of you come out dead last because of a few dumb videos about zodiac signs, I’m going to blow you to hell–”

Earphones and Pink-Cheeks didn't notice, too busy laughing at another new video, but Katsuki faltered for a split second then. Deja Vu rocked him to his core, stealing his breath away as his eyes unconsciously filtered beyond their little group. Towards a head of green. The last person he had to threaten into doing his best. The last person he cared about making sure succeeded.

Not that he still cares, but it seemed Deku actually seemed to be preparing for this match. His hair’s a familiar messy bedhead, knotted in ways it only got the morning of an exam or a new All Might movie release. Him and Mina are stretching their calves together, in the same way he’d done with Katsuki a million times before. 

The same way they’d be doing now if not for the Battle Drill.

Deku’s head raised in his direction and Katsuki quickly turned away, swallowing hard.

Since they were kids, they’d watched the Sports Festival together. Wrapped up in an All Might blanket on Auntie Inko’s couch, spilling popcorn all over each other, they’d bet on who would win. Would yell about how useless someone was at using their quirk or who might come out on top. They knew every word of Present Mic’s opening speech by heart. After the rankings were released, Izuku had been the one to point out how he would be the first omega making the commencement speech, more excited than even he was.

And now they were here. Day of the Sports Festival they’d been anticipating since they were five fucking years old, and they hadn’t said a word to each other in over a month.

If he squinted long enough in the mirror, he could still see the teeth marks etched into his neck.

“Todoroki–”

“ Goddammit, Pink Cheeks . I already know , okay? We ran away and eloped a week into the semester, we were so fucking in love,” Katsuki growled, rounding on the wide eyed brunette.

Kyouka started choking loudly.

Ochako’s grin is frozen on her face. “No, Kats–”

“Right then, what? I want him to bone me so fucking bad ? We’re spending my next heat together because, obviously , I can’t live without his thick, amazing, knot. I want it so, so–”

“Wow, Bakugou. Why didn’t you tell me we eloped?” Todoroki Shouto said dryly, arms crossed where he stands, entirely unphased, next to a cackling Earphones. 

Bakugou Katsuki blinked once. Todoroki Shouto is still there.

Bakugou Katsuki blinked twice. The siren announcing the start of the race goes off.

0

The UA staff watched in horror from the skybox where Bakugou Katsuki raised his arm and released an explosion fierce enough to flicker the lights of the stadium.

Right in Todoroki Shouto’s face.

“That’s just a bit of friendly fire,” Principal Nezu insisted, stone faced.

0

Todoroki Shouto choked around a mouthful of smoke. And then he shoots a spear of ice after Katsuki’s retreating form.

It knicks him right in the arm. 

The arena rocks with cries of outrage.

Principal Nezu sighed heavily.

All Might lets out a strained breath through his nose.

Aizawa avoids the gazes of the rest of the staff.

!

Like the rest of the first year students, it takes Midoriya Izuku a good second to wrap his mind around what just happened. 

Both because Todoroki Shouto just attacked his fated one not even for the first time , and because immediately after doing so, he froze their entire year into place with his quirk.

“Huh,” Mina said at his side, pulling her left leg free with a gush of acid. “I don’t know why I thought the media attention would make them kinder to each other.”

“Right,” Izuku agrees, but unlike her crinkled eyes and upturned lips, he’s far from joking.

Despite what All Might told him, despite knowing just how important his performance in the Sports Festival was– he just couldn’t escape the lingering concern he had for his best friend. No matter what Kacchan thought of him right now, Izuku never stopped thinking of him the same way he had before. So they weren’t on speaking terms, so the blonde turned away every time he so much as looked in his direction– they had known each other since they were kids. A Sports Festival couldn’t distract him from that.

Sue him for his concern over the fact that the omega’s fated one, who was supposed to protect him at all costs, was clearly targeting him.

The ice shatters around Izuku’s ankles with a flash of green light.

Up on the jumbotron, Kacchan and Todoroki have made it the furthest in the race, clearing half the course in the time it took the rest of the students to recover from the Head Alphas’ initial attack. And even now, the fated are still going at each other. Exchanging explosions for ice, they sling attacks in between navigating a field of mines. It would’ve been impressive, the way they flip and dodge in near perfect coordination, a mimicry of a coordinated dance between lovers. If not for the fact that they are fated mates . Alpha and omega .

There’s blood trailing down Kacchan’s arm. From a cut that Todoroki Shouto caused . That an alpha tore into their omega’s skin.

“Now you’re an alpha with a quirk. A powerful quirk. You have to use it responsibly.”

All for One drums at his skin in a way it's done only once before– during a Battle Drill gone awfully wrong. Sparks flicker around his skin as though he’s a malfunctioning machine. Mina’s eyebrows raise at his side. 

“You good, dude?” she asked, freeing her other leg from the ice. 

Izuku is gone in the next second.

Todoroki Shouto, mark your seconds.

()

Todoroki Shouto was marking his seconds. Not because of Midoriya Izuku, though.

Shouto would like to personally challenge every journalist who published about how Bakugou Katsuki was in an unsafe situation, being pitted up against his fated one. Every single person to write about how dainty omegas were– how deserving of delicacy they were by alpha, how it was abuse to strike them in combat– deserved to be put in the ring across from the hotheaded blonde. See how long they last with the misconception that he was some sort of fragile being needing to be coddled to. Todoroki Shouto was fighting for his life. And this is just a race.

What they’re doing could hardly be called fighting. Shooting attacks at one another haphazardly in an attempt to throw each other off and claim the finish line first. This isn’t a one-on-one match– just a mere lick of one. A taste of what it could be like to square off against one another at full force, with the goal of incapacitating

Shouto can only imagine the headlines once they did: Shocking! Fragile Omega Bakugou Katsuki Accidentally Blows Up Evil Fated Ones Head Amid Roaring Sports Festival! Poor Thing!

“Tired, Candycane?” Bakugou Katsuki purred, head cocked to the side. It would’ve been adorable. Except Bakugou Katsuki isn’t cute and the punch that lands against Shouto’s jaw definitely isn’t.

Groaning, Shouto barely finds his step in time to hurdle over a shallowly buried mine. Somewhere along the way, he found himself less concerned about the grenades under his toes than he was the blonde bombshell at his side. Seriously. Where were the GoFundMe’s calling for his protection?  

“Cute nickname,” he grunted, throwing his arm out with a few spikes of ice, sharper than he’s used to making them. One of them catches the omega’s leg before he’s able to use an explosion to lift himself over it. His hiss of pain and the tear in the calf of his pant leg are the sweetest victory the alpha’s ever relished in. 

He had a good ten seconds to enjoy it before he looked up to find a pair of wine red eyes staring straight at him. Crinkled in amusement, alight with excitement.

This does something horrible to Shouto’s heart and he nearly runs straight into the next obviously buried mine. 

“You know, I thought of one for you,” the alpha said, conversationally, a few blows later when his heart finally settled. By now, the finish line is a spit’s distance away and the omega has gotten him back for the cut on his leg with a surprise punch to the eye. It’s probably purple, judging by the throbbing and the way the blonde keeps side-eyeing it with a self satisfied smirk.

Said self-satisfied smirk was on his face when he raised an eyebrow and asked: “You gonna share with the class?”

The omega easily shoots himself above the pillar of ice Shouto makes, but it’s worth it when he stumbles over Shouto’s next words and the alpha gets a step ahead of him. “Headache.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou barked, sending an explosion his way that left his ears ringing.

“ Shit ,” Todoroki groaned, dramatically cupping his left ear. “Earache would be better.”

The irony is entirely lost on the omega, who began to loudly curse in response.

Todoroki can’t help but laugh. 

A full-bodied thing that has him narrowly side stepping several more mines. Perhaps it’s the hysteria of it all. The dozens of bruises that etch his skin, rewards of a hard fought battle. The fact that he’s going to get chased with pitchforks on social media for returning the gesture and marking up the omega’s skin– the fact that he had marked up the omegas skin, turning it red and purple and brown. The fact that he’s trading insults with his fated one amidst the UA Sports Festival– something his father has been anticipating to watch him in since he was born and is now probably agonizing about up in the stands. Perhaps it’s just the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is so unbelievably ridiculous .

By the time his laughter died down, the omega’s cursing had stopped. 

When Shouto looks up, they’re mere steps away from the finish line. And wine red eyes are back on him, unfocused and heated. 

Like they’re seeing for the first time. 

Like there’s a maybe, maybe, maybe in that gaze, if Shouto just squints enough.

Naturally, this is the moment Midoriya Izuku slams into Todoroki Shouto’s back on a makeshift sleigh.

Chapter Text

-

k. @k.enzooo 

Yall tuned into the UA Sports Festival, right now? The Head Alpha just got his back BROKE LMAOOO. Where tf did broccoli boi come from and what’s the tea on why he’s so mad??? 

ANNIE LOVE @annipurplesyou

bro doesnt know we’re supposed to be boycotting it or smth…. #UAISOVERPARTY @k.enzooo

STREAM BOY W LUV <3 @purplingurlife

Speak for yourself @annieourplesyou. This is the most fun I’ve had watching the Sports Festival since ever

&

Fighting with Todoroki Shouto leaves Katsuki lightheaded. Both for the fact that– during the first obstacle of the course– the alpha had thrown a robot’s detached arm at his head. And for the fact that the alpha was willing to sling forty pounds of iron at an omega’s head without a second thought. 

It’s almost romantic. ( Though, that was probably the early-onset-concussion talking ).

A race doesn’t leave much room for stopping and engaging in an actual one-on-one match. But in between dodging obstacles, they pour each other slurps of their respective quirks– little stalagmites of ice that scrape Katsuki’s exposed skin and explosions that blind Todoroki into stumbling a few steps. These little teases of what’s to come are hardly enough to sate the burning hunger growing in the blonde. By the time they’ve made it to the finish line, Katsuki is starved, practically drooling for a one-on-one match. 

The thought of attacking Todoroki– powerful Todoroki, who could command a group of omegas, betas and alphas into submission; who used his quirk with the confident grace of an apex predator; who punched back with twice the force– was exhilarating. The thought of the alpha narrowing his eyes at him— not looking down with a crinkled gaze or refusing to make eye contact out of some stupid misconceived chivalry– and pouncing back without regard for his dynamic? 

It left Katsuki breathless.

It made his face go hot. It tore his lips apart into a smile.

Something in his chest had loosened at the mere idea, his mind clearing immediately of the stress of his face being plastered all over the internet and all those ridiculous news articles. For a moment, none of it mattered. Not the prying looks of his classmates or the enraged screams from the crowd. Not the fainting old crows in the stands or the scoffing older men. Not alphas or omegas or betas. 

Todoroki Shouto was keeping his promise . For whatever inane reason, he was fighting back with the promised ferocity. He was taking this seriously. Was taking an omega seriously.

For a split second, when Katsuki caught his gaze in the middle of the alpha’s laughing fit– there’s something there. A nostalgic warmth in the heteromatic eyes where they catch in the daylight streaming in from the open roof of the arena. All at once, they look like melting fudge. A stream of chilled water in the midsts of July. Hot cocoa with mom and dad on a rainy day. Summers of running to the creek by his house. They look like so much all at once, it feels like he’s staring directly at the sun.

Katsuki is struck by the sudden realization that they look nice . Like really nice .

He gets a grand total of .0058 seconds to enjoy this revelation before Todoroki Shouto is slammed face first into the ground with a makeshift sleigh lodged into his back.

“Are you okay?!” Katsuki hears Midoriya before he sees him. Bewildered, the blonde came to a screeching stop at the sound of the words, tripping over himself as he turned on his heels, back just meters away from the finish line. 

The green-haired boy was thrown off on impact, a few steps ahead of the groaning alpha Katsuki had just been partially-fighting-partially-racing- partially-something-else with. Scrambling quickly to his feet, the green-haired boy scratched at the freckles on his cheeks, glancing off to the side to avoid the omega’s gaze. 

Katsuki thinks of telling him he has dirt on his nose, and then, a second later, decides it belongs there.

“I came as fast as I could… I saw he was hurting you, Kacchan, and my feet… they just moved on their own… I mean–” Midoriya began, words rushing out of him like water escaping a broken dam. They flood Katsuki’s senses, choking him with their ridiculous rationale. 

In what world was Todoroki Shouto hurting him? All the alpha managed to do was scrape him up a bit. Katsuki wasn’t glass, a scrape or two wouldn’t shatter him to pieces. But Midoriya Izuku wouldn’t believe that, would he?

Deku would’ve. Back when they were kids, beating each other up in sandpits. Deku would’ve fought back as hard as he could to prove a point– whether that point be what All Might Adventures movie was the best in the saga or what hero would rank in the top ten that year. Before dynamics, Deku would’ve treated him like steel, like he could take a punch and return it tenfold. Like he didn’t need someone to fly in rescuing him mid fight and then stand there fretting over him like he was some sort of helpless damsel.

He would’ve seen him as more than just something to be protected. More than something to race to the defense of amid a race where everyone was supposed to be beating the shit out of each other.

More than something to be claimed. 

“Kacchan, are you okay?” Midoriya repeated, stepping closer, still not meeting his damn eyes . When Katsuki doesn’t respond– his sweet, so fucking omegan scent growing more poignant and nauseating despite himself– the alpha reaches a broad hand out to his shoulder. 

If they were kids, if they were still Deku and Kacchan, it would’ve been a welcome gesture, comforting and familiar. Now, Katsuki imagines himself a wide-eyed deer, the outstretched grasp a haunting pair of headlights barrelling towards him at top speed. 

Midoriya’s woodsy scent is overpowering, clogging up his senses in an attempt to cajole. All it manages now is to make Katsuki remember weeks ago, when he’d last been smothered by it. All Katsuki can see when Midoriya grimaces slightly, lips forming around words of condolence and how it’ll be okay , are long sharp canines. All he can hear in his buttery words are reminders of just how weak Midoriya sees him.

For a split second, when he can’t get his limbs to move, he toys with the thought that that weakness Midoriya sees isn’t unfounded. What else could explain why he struggles to breathe in that scent? Why he’s choked up now, unable to move out of the way? Why he already feels like roadkill, and the hand hasn’t even hit him yet?

Midoriya had already gotten him once, hadn’t he? Midoriya had already claimed him the same way he could now, paralyzing him in place with his mere macho alpha presence alone. All because of Katsuki’s stupid dynamic , this stupid weakness that made him instinctively cower before a big, strong alpha. It made Katsuki sick. It made Katsuki wish not for the first time that he wasn’t chained down in silver . 

What would life be like if he’d just been born an alpha? 

A wall of ice slices the air between him and Midoriya before he can think of an answer to any of the questions. 

“Don’t you dare touch him, Todoroki!” Midoriya growled , fist slamming into the ice wall between them an instant after it appeared. Cracks splinter across it, but Katsuki hardly pays them any mind, eyes slanting to where Todoroki has stumbled to his feet with a pained wince.

The alpha spared Midoriya a very brief exasperated look, one fitting for a dumb joke or pile of unfolded laundry. It lasts only a few seconds at most before Todoroki tilts his head back to Katsuki, a raised eyebrow and upturned lip almost questioning. Katsuki catches his eyes like a lifeline and feels like he can breathe again. 

“Bakugou started it,” is all Todoroki eventually offers up, before he raises his arms and sends a wave of ice barrelling towards them.

Midoriya breaks the ice wall between them with another punch and makes a valiant move to shield Katsuki from the incoming iceberg. But by that point, Katsuki has cleared his head enough that he can respond appropriately to such a chivalrous sacrifice by an alpha.

Using his knight-in-shining-armor as a springboard, Katsuki makes sure to kick him down hard as he flips over the wave of incoming ice.

Midoriya’s muffled cry of shock as he’s slammed face first into the iceberg is music to Katsuki’s ears.

“Cute puppy guard,” Half ‘n Half shouted, where he’d already continued barreling past them to the finish line. Amusement soaks every word, and though his back is to Katsuki, the omega can still clearly see the smirk that twists his lips. “Did he come with the overprotective childhood best friend act or was that all trained?”

Katsuki responded with an explosion that knocked the alpha off balance to the floor. Unfortunately, he lands an inch away from the mine bed at his side and the blonde doesn’t get to watch him explode into dozens of annoying little bits and pieces as he’d hoped. 

“ Kacchan !” comes an even less fortunate shout. Katsuki rolled his eyes skyward and nearly walked himself straight into the next mine pit he saw in response. How did he even break out of the avalanche so quickly? Whoever gave Midoriya mysterious-quirk-rights needed their ass beat bad . “I’m coming– get away from him!”

“You heard him,” Todoroki said, slyly, a shit-eating expression on his face from where he’s pushing back up to his feet. “Get away from me.”

Katsuki spared him a suffering look. “I miss when we didn’t talk.”

Todoroki’s smirk breaks into a smile just when Katsuki catches up enough to tackle him. With the finish line only a few feet away now, the race was over. No longer was this about speed or agility. Now, with Midoriya hot on their heels yelling about how they needed to stay far apart– it was a fine time to start duking it out the way they’d been teasing the entire race. Katsuki had enough. He was pissed and hot and bothered– and thirsty . A couple more sips of combat wouldn’t be enough.

Todoroki landed on his bruised back. He’s still groaning in pain when Katsuki slammed his fist into his jaw. 

Midoriya has the gall to shout, “Kacchan! Are you okay?!”

And that’s it . Katsuki’s thighs bracket the broad form of an alpha, leaning over him as the predator– not the prey . And even now, Midoriya sees him as helpless. Even with the strongest alpha in their class, someone who’d barked even the green-haired idiot into submission not long ago, beneath him; he’s still viewed as weak by his once best friend . It felt like he could punch and kick and roar with all his might, and still, he’d always just be a fragile, little omega. 

He’s angry. At Midoriya. At himself . At this ridiculous situation. Vision whitening out, he twists around and practically screams, “Fucking look at me , Izuku !”

There’s a beat where Midoriya does. Stuttering in his steps and coming to a near stop, the alpha’s green eyes meet his own. Maybe by mistake, maybe by surprise, but for whatever reason, Midoriya Izuku’s eyes lock with his for the first time since the Battle Drill. 

Katsuki wonders what he sees. And then he wonders if he’d even want to know.

A painful grip on his thigh takes him by surprise, slender fingers digging past the fabric of his uniform into his flesh. In an instant, he traded places with Todoroki, back flat against the ground, entirely disoriented. A sharp, minty scent, mingled with the smell of salty sweat washes over him, stealing his thoughts away from painfully familiar emerald eyes. 

“Look at me, Katsuki ,” Todoroki advised, right above him. Close enough that the omega feels his breath fanning across his cheeks. 

From so close, the omega can pinpoint the tiny imperfections on Todoroki’s supposedly perfect face. The reddened skin of his scar is rough, not smooth like all the articles claim. There’s a beauty mark on his nose, when magazines claim his face is entirely spotless. A new bruise is blossoming on his chin from where Katsuki got him seconds ago. Dirt is sprinkled in his hair and stains his uniform. His lips are slightly chapped. 

Katsuki feels impossibly hotter at each new discovery. 

“Needy much, Shouto ?” he breathed eventually, when Todoroki’s eyebrow began to raise.

Todoroki’s lips twitched upwards in the slightest of smiles, right before he returned Katsuki’s earlier assault with a punch of his own. 

Midoriya squawks in outrage somewhere. But that’s neither here nor there as Katsuki’s vision whites out again, for an entirely different reason than before. Raising his arms to shield from the next barrage of punches, the omega bites down hard on a growing smile against the attacks, crossing his legs around Todoroki’s back and rolling them both to the side again.

The fight is dirty. Something more fitting of the locker rooms or the floor of a bar than the tournament of a world renowned hero school. The crowd echoes this, outrage clear in the deafening screams and chants, but as loud as they get, Katsuki can hardly hear them. All his attention is on Todoroki Shouto– from his near overwhelming minty scent to the slight scrunch of his nose each time he manages to get a good hit in. And, in turn, all of the alpha’s attention is on him, gaze focused on him and him alone.

Katsuki’s had the full attention of alpha before– it isn’t hard to attain. A slight sway of the hips or a tilt of the head is all it takes to get the golden dynamic locked in. Maybe they won’t meet his eyes, but their own will roam his body, focused and hungrily. The blonde has seen more than enough alpha walk into lamp posts around him to know that alpha’s attention isn’t hard won.

But this alpha– his fated ones – full attention feels different. Different in a good way, too. Never before had Katsuki truly enjoyed having an alpha look at him like he was a juicy hunk of meat, but there’s something in the way Todoroki’s eyes gleam that make Katsuki all too ready to be devoured.

Neither of them have a second to spare Midoriya when he makes his final move, charging at them with slightly less passion than before. It’s far too easy for Katsuki to lift his arm and explode him back dozens of feet. They don’t even break rhythm when it happens, rolling over once more. 

Neither of them notice they’ve rolled straight over the finish line until Aizawa squats down next to them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders and halting the ensuing punches from ever making contact. He’s wearing a pained expression, the same one he wore last week when Kaminari asked– so like, when did England conquer Britain?

All Might, standing a pace back from him, looks like he swallowed a lemon.

Todoroki, who’d ended up under again, stares at them for a good moment, before turning back to Katsuki. He’s breathing heavily, and his face is a mosaic of bruises. Purple stains his cheeks like blush and his bottom lip is busted dark red. Katsuki thinks he looks ten times better than he does in all those photoshoots going viral right now. Todoroki Shouto wears the delinquent look devastatingly well. 

This realization makes the omega’s brain buffer. So much so that he doesn’t properly register the alpha’s next cocky statement for a good few seconds. 

“I crossed over first,” Todoroki says, between gasping breaths. A clumsy smile fills his face, so different from that calm, serene half-smirk Katsuki is used to– if any expression at all– that the omega is taken aback even more.

And then the blonde finally understands what was just said and both Aizawa and All Might blush at the stream of curses that fall from his lips.

Bakugou is physically removed from Todoroki before he can “break all the teeth in that ugly fucking smile!” by a very disgruntled All Might. 

Todoroki Shouto’s laughs. Loud, and clumsy, and pretty.

Katsuki tries not to think too hard about that last part.

–

UA OFFICIAL SPORTS FESTIVAL LIVE STREAM

Current: 09:45:03

Remaining: 12:49:12

@erenyeager.r ARE YOU KIDDNG

@erenyeager.r DID YALL SEE THIS????? #TODOBAKU NATION RISE UP!!!

@shouyo_hinata Bkg biting his lip while looking at Tdrk was so real

@brn2mkhstry did we c what? an alpha beating up an omega? let’s not glorify omega abuse…

@streammamushi @brn2mkhstry did u not watch the stream???? That omega said WOP WOP WOP WOP WOP

@lalalisakinda Poor Midoriya Izuku was just trying to help the omega, I hope he wasn’t hurt too bad :(

@ilovechuu The way they looked at each other <33

@shoutoswife todoroki is so strong, bc if bakugou katsuki  looked at me like that i woulda gone crazy

@leoreo listen, i don’t believe there’s anything wrong with them beating each other up but tf you mean the way they looked at each other :,))). my brother in christ, they were trying to ANNIHILATE each others’ bloodlines? @ilovechuu

click for more comments

-

Head Alpha of Class 1-A takes Gold in First Round of UA Sports Festival

Famous UA Fated Couple turns heads in Obstacle Course of UA Sports Festival, Rolling Around in Mud and Striking Each Other

Clutching Her Pearls and Covering Her Eyes, UA Sports Festival Spectator comments on the Horrific Fight Between Fated Couple, “I was horrified that my grandchildren would be viewing this!”

UA Classmate of Infamous Fated Couple and user @piinkmiina, comments on Twitter, “LMAO WORLD STARRRR” about the viral fist fight

Pro Hero Hawks Calls Fight ‘Cute’ and then Denies Further Comment

UA Student Midoriya Izuku a Fan Favorite after Defending An Omega from Head Alpha Todoroki Shouto’s Attacks

UA Denies to Comment Further on Omega Abuse Allegations Amid UA Sports Festival

$

Todoroki Enji’s son broke the UA record by finishing the Obstacle Course in half the amount of time the last record breaker took.

This would’ve been so much easier to celebrate if Shouto hadn’t also caused a PR nightmare by doing so.

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t take down those articles? I don’t give a damn about America’s freedom of speech bullshit– get rid of it!” Enji bellowed into the phone, voice echoing down the long hallway of the stadium tunnels. Somewhere up above, a little child is whimpering to mother about the haunting voices from down below. “How hard is it to pay someone off or crash the sites? Dammit! ”

A little after the race began, Todoroki Enji was forced to leave his seat and find somewhere quiet to yell SHOUTOOO (the man in the stall next to him was very unnerved trying to do his business with a grown man experiencing a manic episode next to him). Somewhere in between Shouto attacking an omega– and that unruly, little brat of an omega, no less– and the disgusted looks and comments speculators kept giving him for raising such an offensive son, he damn near lost his mind. There was no way he would’ve survived watching his boy and the demon spawn rolling around in the dirt live . He was hardly reeling it in as it was watching the replays on FaceBook.

Panting, Enji didn’t hear a word of what his media representative was telling him over the phone. Whatever they blubbered out would do nothing for his heartburn. 

It wasn’t even worth trying anymore. Deep down he knew he’d lost this battle. Social media won the second the cameras landed on his son and his demon spawn of a fated. Now, the Todoroki name was in the dirt and he would inevitably have to make an appearance apologizing for raising a son that falsely believed that an omega was any sort of match for him. 

Cutting his rep off mid sentence, Enji snarled, “I want every video of my son and that– that –” there are plenty of words that suited that misbehaved little mutt , none of which that wouldn’t get him canceled on the spot by anyone listening. “ Get it done , or go to your desk and start packing your things.”

Hanging up before the woman could stutter out an excuse, the alpha barely refrained from hurling his useless phone down the hall. 

All Shouto had to do was command the omega into submission and run. Was it really that difficult? This was the same boy who’d commanded his whole class into submission a few weeks ago ( oh, how proud Enji had been then ). He could’ve said one word and that blonde mutt would be down on his knees, where he, as an omega, belonged. Instead his ridiculous son wasted time stooping to his level and rolling down in the mud with him.

He didn’t think he could get even more frustrated than he was at the moment, convinced he had reached the heights of his irritation. Surely, this was as bad as it could get. His son was destroying his reputation further with each ding of the phone in his hand, up in the stands his other son and daughter were cheering with the Bakugous like nothing was wrong, and his heart was seconds away from collapsing.

Naturally, this is the moment All Might turns the corner in all his shining Number-One-Hero-of-Japan glory.

Unable to help himself, a growl tears through his throat instinctively. 

All Might’s hands fly up in response to it, placating. That annoying megawatt smile appeared on his face, and it was almost enough to send Enji lunging at him, determined to rip it right off. Toshinori must realize this, quick to speak and dim his grin the slightest bit. “Just the man I was looking for, Todoroki-san!”

They’d never had the strongest relationship, openly competing for Number One ( albeit, a bit one-sidedly) in front of the entire country. Enji couldn’t remember a single time in their careers where either one of them had a reason to seek the other out. As far as he was concerned, they had nothing to say to each other besides a half-hearted congratulations during the ranking ceremonies. 

As such, Enji makes his move to immediately shoulder past the other alpha. He’s too annoyed to put up with whatever bullshit advice All Might wants to try and graciously bestow upon him. Plus, one of his lawyers is texting him with an update on his big plans to get TikTok banned in Japan so the videos of his son and his fated would stop circulating. 

There isn’t much All Might could say that could get him to stop and turn back, and he must realize this as well. Because the next words out of his mouth are, “I would like Bakugou-chan removed from this competition as much as you do.”

Doubtful. There likely isn’t anyone who would pay as much as him to get that mutt expelled from the tournament. Still, the way All Might’s stupidly brazen smile has dropped by the time Enji faces him again  has his interests piqued. 

Slowing to a stop, Enji gave a partial nod to confirm he was listening. 

“Trust me, this is as bad for your reputation as it is for ours. Unfortunately, it isn’t possible to remove him unless he drops out or fails to complete a round of the tournament,” All Might said, clinically. Enji has never heard him speak so calculating and soft, moreso used to his loud, bellowing words. He finds he doesn’t quite mind this tone. “It’s highly doubtful he’d drop out on his own. Maybe, if your son asked nicely –” there’s a meaningful look there. “He’d consider it.”

“My son has been impossible to deal with ever since he met that boy,” Enji discarded the idea immediately, finally turning to fully face the other alpha. Shouto wasn’t even willing to command Bakugou on the field. It was hardly likely he’d be willing to do it in private outside of the matches.

All Might pursed his lips, nodding slowly in understanding. “Then he’ll just have to lose.”

Enji had never met an omega as obsessed with victory as Bakugou Katsuki was. Of all things he could say about him, he couldn’t claim that the boy had zero potential at winning this competition. Anyone could take one look at his performance in the first match and know his chances of making it far were high. With Enji’s poor luck, the omega would probably make it to the very end as he had brashly swore he would. 

All Might’s smile is back, just as broad, but there’s something off about it this time. Enji can’t pinpoint exactly what by the time it’s split open for him to say, “I’ll take care of that, Enji. You work on easing your son into the idea that omegas are meant to protect . Not attack, will you?”

“You think I haven’t been teaching him that,” Enji snarled, his own lips drawn downward. Of course, maybe it wasn’t the main focus on what he taught Shouto, but it was up there. Sue him for thinking his son would be fated to a quaint, darling omega who would act appropriately. Who could’ve seen the spitfire Bakugou Katsuki coming?

“No, no, I’m sure you have,” All Might said, easily, hands back up in the air. “But you know how young alphas get when they meet their fated so early. Sometimes they need a little direction so their omega doesn’t lead them astray, right?”

Ah . The old proverb. After all, it was Eve who led Adam to sin. Just as omegas tend to lead their alphas to destruction whenever they are handed the reins. The silver kind just isn’t meant to be followed, they’re meant to follow.

Having his son find his fated so early was admittedly a curveball, and he’d been lacking in addressing him about it. Not that Shouto ever lingered long enough around him for him to get more than a few words out. The boy always ignored his texts and locked his door when he came home. If Rei and Touya were still around, it would’ve been much easier to get him to at least sit down across from him for a meal.

This was an emergency scenario however. If it came down to it, he’d be forced to corner the boy. Sooner, rather than later.

Frown still firmly in place, Enji nodded. “I’ll speak with him.”

When All Might tries to offer up his hand, as though they had just completed a successful business deal, Endeavor gives him an annoyed look and walks past it.

Chapter Text

deadbeat

Great job breaking a record in the tournament. Meet me in the stands. Need to talk.

read 11:32

Shouto, I need to speak with you.

read 11:37

Shouto, stop ignoring my texts.

read 11:39

SHOUTOOOOOOO

message not delivered

momo

Look at this article: Head Alpha of Class 1-A, Todoroki Shouto, Abuse Allegations.

delivered 11:57

I told you it was a bad idea to be anywhere near him during this whole mess. Why didn’t you listen to me??

delivered 11:57

Where are you??? 

delivered 11:59

Shouto?

delivered 12:01

()

Months ago, winning the first round of the Sports Festival without using his father’s quirk would’ve left Shouto feeling satisfied. 

Months ago, Shouto didn’t truly know what it meant to be satisfied .

Usurping his father is satisfying in the way it feels to complete a workday at a standard nine to five. Only it’s Tuesday, so no matter whether or not it’s time to clock out, he still has to be back the next day at the asscrack of dawn. It’s satisfying like finishing a warm, home cooked meal. Only to turn to the sink and find the piles of dishes used to make that meal, waiting to be washed. Satisfaction that comes with a catch. Satisfaction that comes with the echo of you’re not finished and there’s still so much left to do . Satisfaction that won’t truly be fulfilling until he’s standing on the pedestal of Number One, without his father’s quirk having any hand in getting him there.

Beating Bakugou Katsuki in the obstacle course is satisfaction like he’s never known before. 

Satisfaction like guzzling down water after a long run. Satisfaction like finding another person after hours of wandering around in a dark forest, lost. Satisfaction like the ending of a movie, when the leads melt into each other's embrace after spending the last hour running around each other.

Months ago, Shouto wouldn’t have been able to imagine himself feeling anything but indifference towards the tournament, acknowledging it as little more than another stepping stone to becoming number one. Back then, it was simply something he had to do, a check box on a To Do list. Nothing to look forward to, but instead, something to take care of. Little more than an errand.

But, now? Now he was jittering to get another round against the blonde omega and his powerful quirk. 

Shouto didn’t even know he could jitter.

“Will you quit it with the fucking seizure? I’m reading something,” the reason for his jittering scolded, at his side on a bench far beneath the roaring crowds of the arena. The blonde hardly spares him half a second glare before his eyes are glued back to his phone screen, as they had been for the better part of the hour.

While the rest of the class were finishing the race, the first and second place winners had been dragged to Recovery Girl. Given it only took two minutes of the half hour they were there to get matching Hello Kitty bandaids slapped on the worst of their scrapes, it was pretty obvious they had only been brought to be shielded from the public eye. Which ended up being ironic when Kaminari Denki joined them, moaning about a broken arm, only to go live on his Instagram the second Recovery Girl’s back turned  ( “Check it out! That’s right, I’ve got Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki here, live with me! Remember to follow not only this account but also my backup, @pikapikabitch and my Twitter– AAAAH BAKUGOU LET GO OF MY ARM1! I’LL TURN IT OFF! I’LL TURN IT OFF!” )

After nearly strangling the beta to death before an audience of fifteen thousand netizens, Bakugou had retreated back to his phone, silent and irritable. Every now and then, he’d lean over with a snicker to show Shouto a celebrity or politician’s quote of ‘Todoroki Shouto’s out of control and a danger to society’ or a TikTok comment of ‘Todoroki Shouto isn’t even that attractive tbh .’ Anything defamatory to the alpha’s character, really. Shouto would be more annoyed if this wasn’t a clear coping mechanism to distract from the main things people are saying. 

Things about weak omegas needing protection from big strong alphas. Things about classless omegas setting a horrible example for the next generation. Things about dynamics, dynamics, dynamics. Things that make Shouto’s jitters stall and Bakugou’s lips thin.

Watching where wine red eyes darkened as they retraced the same sentence for the fourth time, Shouto cleared his throat. 

“What’s the point of reading any of it? They all say the same thing,” he blurted. Releasing a breath when Bakugou’s head whips up to him, away from that stupid tabloid article he’d been rereading repeatedly, he’s not at all prepared for the accusing look that comes attached to the newfound attention. When he’d decided on finally intervening, distracting the blonde from all the thing s, he hadn’t been expecting a thank you exactly (Bakugou Katsuki was no saint). All the same, he hadn’t expected to be looked at as though he was at fault for any of the said things . 

“The fuck do you care what I read,” the omega demanded around a scowl. And then, words nasty as the look he’s giving him– reminding Shouto that Bakugou Katsuki was the last person who needed anyone’s comfort– “I enjoy reading a bunch of different people agreeing on how stupid your face is.”

Right. How could he forget? Bakugou Katsuki had the tact of a barbarian and any form of help gave him hives.

Rolling his eyes at the crude comment, Shouto wondered how much longer until the teachers realized it was useless to keep them locked up and set them free. If anything, keeping them away from the crowds was only drawing more attention. Just minutes ago, his sister had texted him asking if the articles claiming he and Bakugou had been pulled from the competition were true. “Charming,” he said, distractedly, spying where Recovery Girl was talking rapid fire to Cementos a couple yards away. Probably thinking they couldn’t make out the very telling mutters of publicity nightmare and what do we do now? At this rate, they’d be here another half hour.

“One of us has to be,” Bakugou mused back, eyes returning to his phone. Not that Shouto cared , but he thankfully doesn’t waste another second on whatever tabloid he’d been reading. Instead, popular TikTok audios faintly sound out, and for a merciful moment, they’re at peace with only the sounds of an awful song cover ( some blonde girl going "but you're still a traitorrr"
with the vocal range of a cat having an asthma attack ) and a random question of "English or Spanish"
 interrupting it every now and then.

And then, just when Shouto’s picked up his own phone to answer a barrage of texts he’d gotten from Momo when she finished the course a few minutes ago (most of which being: you should’ve listened to me and I told you to stay away from him ), Katsuki breaks their momentary  of bliss with: “Oh my god, why did you go to the grand opening of I-Island in a Polo.”

Shouto’s kneejerk reaction is, “What’s wrong with Polos.”And then, a beat after, panicked, “How do you know I was at the Grand Opening of I-Island.” And finally, a very defensive, “I was twelve.”

“Why’d you dress like a middle aged golfer then?” Katsuki asked, a note of laughter threaded through his words as he leans closer to Shouto. For a split second, the alpha forgets to breathe over the smell of content caramel, mind blanking out the second the blonde’s shoulder meets his own. He imagines he would’ve stayed stiff for a long moment after that, if not for the phone screen being shoved into his nose.

It’s him. 

Or rather, old pictures of him from the official Todoroki family appearance at the I-Island opening. There had been tons of pictures at the gala that night, a lot of handshaking and rubbing shoulders with other Pro Hero elites. Shouto can’t remember taking any of the photos, having snuck off with his siblings the moment their father’s back turned, but there he is. Fuyumi in her short black dress and pearls on one side, smiling deferentially at someone out of frame, and Natsuo rolling his eyes at a man in a nice pressed suit on his other. Squeezed in between them, in a salmon colored polo and nicely pressed slacks, he isn’t even looking at the camera. In another picture, of just him, he’s accidentally spilled part of the juice in his glass all over the front of his shirt. In another one, the zit on his forehead is done no favors by the pink of his shirt.

Someone somehow found these photos from the lowest point of his life ( puberty ), made a compilation of them with the caption of #loverboy , and posted them to the audio of a popular Nicki Minaj song. There are over six hundred thousand likes.

Shouto’s feeling a bit out of his depth. He can’t be blamed when his tongue slips away from him for a moment to say, “Like that’s any better than you at New York Fashion Week as One Direction’s lost member. Three years in a row.”

Katsuki chokes on his laughter, sweet scent immediately turning nauseating. 

Sue him. After they’d been fated, Shouto had been curious . He’d looked up the Bakugous, maybe once or twice. 

He’d looked up Bakugou Katsuki maybe a few more times than that.

Naturally, with the omega being a son of world-renowned fashion designers, he’d made appearances at various runway shows, even modeling in a few. As Shouto figured, it was the same thing as him being forced to attend Pro Hero events for his father, Japan’s second ranked hero. Though, rather than coming out of his parents’ events with awkward pictures with his acne on full display, the omega photographed well. It didn’t matter what he wore, what expression he was making– he looked refined, intentional, beautiful. In every picture taken. Shouto would know. He’d spent a long time scourging the internet for a bad picture of the omega.

Still, the insult lands. Bakugou’s phone screen goes black, as he rounds on the alpha. Flicking a strand of his red hair up into the air, the omega hissed, “This coming from the Bieber cut.”

Shouto watches it fall slowly, only feeling slightly queasy when he gloated, “Didn’t you see? Over half a million people like this Bieber cut.”

Half a million . Half a million people had seen his preteen zit on full display and how awkwardly he’d filled in that salmon shirt at the time. Hell, there were plenty of more public events the Todoroki family had attended than that. Likely, by now, half the globe had seen that time he tripped down the stairs on the way to one of the Yaoyorozu charity events. Or that time he’d been into some American rock group and wore one of their shirts to the hero ranking ceremony as a form of teenage rebellion. 

“I can literally see your head getting bigger by the second,” Bakugou said.

Shouto decisively doesn’t correct him to let him know that, if anything, his head was on the way to exploding as it went into overdrive with thoughts of all the bad pictures he currently had circulating the web. It’s much easier to instead snark, “At least people like this head.”

In true Bakugou fashion, the omega goes and pops his head when he responds, “The few who don’t think it’s attached to an omega abuser.”

Right. That was also a thing . 

Todoroki had rewatched their fight, through the grainy spectator clips uploaded to YouTube before UA copyright striked them. Maybe he was a bit biased, being he was the one bearing the bruises of those nasty punches, but he would say Bakugou Katsuki gave far better than he took. A majority of the time, Shouto was under him . Not the other way around, as so many were claiming. If there was any abuse happening, it was happening to him .

But because Bakugou Katsuki’s status as an omega apparently mattered far more than the fact that there were nuclear discharges at the tip of his fingers, Todoroki Shouto was the big, bad alpha abuser. Or so the narrative went.

When Bakugou’s phone screen goes dark, he doesn’t bother to light it back up. Instead his brows draw together, and Shouto can practically read his thoughts on the sudden lines of his face and troubled curl of his lips. He’s thinking of the same thing Shouto is, mind clouded by things, and things, and things . Shouto thinks he’s finally found Katsuki’s bad angle, the picture he’d been searching the internet for not long ago. 

He wishes he hadn’t.

Shouto blurts out something before thinking twice. He tends to do that a lot around Bakugou Katsuki. “You mean the few with enough common sense to realize I’m the one being abused?”

A flash of surprise breaks the omega’s dejected look. Then a snort. And finally, a flutter of laughter.

Shouto should probably be concerned Bakugou Katsuki thinks him getting abused is something to laugh over, but his thoughts are more centered around how he never noticed the cute scrunch of the blonde’s nose when he was amused or how his laughter almost sounded like bell chimes– it was so pretty. 

Bakugou Katsuki is so pretty . Even with a smudge of dirt still staining his cheek and a Hello Kitty bandaid on his forehead. Even though he’s laughing at Shouto’s misery and for longer than would be publicly acceptable.  He’s beautiful . Unfairly so. Like the glowing rays of dawn, or the first birdsong of spring, or the shine of the moon.

The jitters are back.

When Katsuki scrolls to the next TikTok and it’s a compilation of the omega at a fashion show, looking like the missing member of One Direction, over a popular New Jeans song, Shouto bursts into laughter and the blonde shoulders him off the bench. 

And even on the ground, Shouto laughs and laughs, and feels satisfaction like the glowing rays of dawn, or the first birdsong of spring, or the glow of the moon.

R/HobbyDrama

u/babybuffaloz 

[UA Sports Festival] Controversial Sexist Rule Change because of Suspected Tampering By Japan’s Second Pro Hero Endeavor, and, of course, how this all has to do with our Problem Children #TODOBAKU

UA is a world renowned hero school, and its’ Sports Festival is one of the most popular sporting events since the last Olympics (a sporting event from over a hundred years ago, when quirks didn’t exist)! This event is Japan’s first introduction to their new generation of Pro Heroes, so it’s a very important place for the students to show off their quirks and secure internship spots with seasoned Pro Heroes currently in the field. Thousands of people around the globe tune in every year for this event, and it’s always garnered lots of attention– on par with Eurovision numbers. But if you’ve been paying attention to the news recently, you may have noticed that this attention has tripled this year.

For an overview of the Todobaku controversy check u/obriantaylor ‘s great post "here"
. But in short, prior to the start of the Sports Festival, UA’s Class 1-A Head Alpha (a position that normally wins the entire tournament), Todoroki Shouto, was fated to the Top Ranking First Year Student (and first ever omega to rank first place in the entrance exam!), Bakugou Katsuki.  To make this even more spicier, during the opening ceremony Bakugou Katsuki boldly declared, “I’m going to win.” There’s a lot to say here, about the first round of the tournament, omega rights, and the public backlash– but let me get off my soap box, because we’re not talking about that today.

Interestingly enough, Todoroki Shouto is the son of Todoroki Enji, popularly known as Endeavor, a conservative alpha Pro-Hero who ranks second of all Pros in Japan (& 14th in the world rankings). He’s pretty well known for his horrible public relations and his appearance on alt-right wing podcasts where he’s made claims like “omegas need to be controlled, it’s where they feel most at peace”, “any omega without children is an omega that hasn’t reached their full potential” and “inter-dynamic relations are damaging to children” (I could go on and on, there’s a lot). Meanwhile, Bakugou Katsuki is son of internationally renowned fashion designers and left leaning alpha-couple Bakugou Mitsuki and Masaru. A couple that has garnered mass public attention for their “unnatural” relationship and their aggressive methods of raising their omega  son. Just a few years ago, they made the controversial claim that “we wouldn’t raise our son any different if he were an alpha.”

You really can’t find families more polarizing than the Bakugous and the Todorokis. However, if you’ve seen the viral videos of Shoutos’ siblings, Todoroki Fuyumi and Natsuo, with the Bakugous in the stands, it would probably seem to you that these two families are in good relations. In fact, over the past few weeks since the suspected date of the fating, Todoroki Fuyumi has actually walked in one of the Bakugous’ fashion shows and Natsuo has posted from within the Bakugou family home multiple times (check out this one extremely funny picture of Katsuki trying to drag him out the door, followed by a laughing Mitsuki). 

HOWEVER, recent allegations and text messages that were released by an intern from the Endeavor Co. spell an entirely different story. It appears the heads of family do not see eye to eye and the Pro Hero is entirely against his son’s fating. Enough so that now Endeavor has gone out of his way to tamper with the Sports Festival’s rules. 

Here is where I need to explain a bit about the Sports Festival, to show how monumental a change the new rules are, aside from how sexist they appear. 

The Sports Festival is TWO DAYS long featuring THREE EVENTS! Aside from two milestones (the 25th and 50th anniversary of the school), these events have never changed. With this being the 56th, not a very special year for UA, it was expected that the first day events would be the Obstacle Course and the Calvary Battle while the second would be the 1-V-1 Matches. No changes were anticipated.

UA, as all hero schools, are notorious for being alpha dominated. In fact, an alpha has won the Sports Festival all but 3 of 56 years since UA’s opening (26, 37, 48– which were all infamously won by betas). This year actually has the highest number of omegas entering the competition at 12, 3 of which were disqualified in the Obstacle Course. This left behind a record-breaking 9 to compete in the Cavalry Battle– a very dramatic raise from the 2 who made it this far last year (both of which failed to move on to the 1-v-1 matches).

This was originally theorized to be the reason for the slight rule adjustment that was made before the Obstacle Course had even officially ended. UA has decided to limit the students to making teams within their own dynamics (meaning there will be 2 omega teams, 3 beta teams and 3 alpha teams). In addition to this, they have made the scandalizing decision to make omega teams worth only 50 points, beta teams worth 100 points, and alpha teams worth 200 points. While the requirements for passing the cavalry battle are having 200 points. Obviously, this puts omegas at a huge disadvantage to their alpha, and even beta, counterparts. It’ll be twice as hard for them to advance to the 1v1 matches.

However, judging by the texts that Endeavor sent to his media representative, this rule change was orchestrated by the Pro Hero. Which would make sense, given his dislike for his son’s fated. Either way, UA never should have permitted the clearly unfair change in the first place, but it’s clear who had a big hand in making it happen. 

u/klanceisking This new dynamic segregation rule just killed my fantasy football lineup for the Cavalry Battle… 

u/melomeatballin this is all speculation though. no one knows whether or not endeavor rlly did anything. those texts are fake

u/youjustlostthegame Great. ANOTHER Sports Festival post. This is like the fifth this week.

u/elric_31011 the sports festival board & endeavor had to reinvent dynamic segregation bc they new a #todobaku team would’ve been too powerful

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~

Bakugou Katsuki is the type of omega who would intimidate most others of their dynamic. Ibara isn’t most others , but she can acknowledge why he would inspire envious looks and barbed comments.

He’s blonde, toned, and beautiful. He’s omegan in the slight softness of his features, cut from an alpha heritage in the sharpness of his gaze. Pretty and powerful. The type of omega that alphas spent their entire life trying to cage like an exotic bird. An alluring mix that not many would be able to say no to. Making him even more worth coveting, his fated was every omega’s dream alpha– a total prince charming. Aside from his clear attitude issues, the blonde was perfect. A model for the silver dynamic. 

A rare ruby.

And Shiozaki, a stunning emerald, would naturally pair well with him, she’s sure.

Uraraka Ochako, a mere quartz, seems to disagree.

“Why don’t you want to team up with your own class?” the brunette asked, settling her hands on her hips. With the pout on her lips and the narrowness of her gaze, she looks suspicious. Easily the most bothered of the trio by her presence. (Another quartz, Jirou Kyouka, hasn’t looked up from her phone for longer than a second since she approached, one of her earlobes nailed to the ground, while Bakugou Katsuki is too busy tracing something out in the sand to pay her any mind).

For a moment, she thinks of telling her the truth. Of how she knows she’s worth her weight in emeralds, and the other Class 1-B omegas just didn’t live up to that standard– merely common pebbles, as far as she was concerned. Where she was dainty and refined, they were awkward and clumsy. Where she had a quirk that could literally shake the Earth, they could only offer up useless combat skills like growing mushrooms and launching small horns. Naturally, she would refuse their offer to team up. Why would someone with such great worth, stoop themselves down to pair up with people so beneath them? 

But Uraraka Ochako looks like the type of omega who followed the O-Code religiously and would like a celebrity just because they were also an omega. It was more trouble than it was worth to explain her thought process to the girl. So instead, she settles for offering up her most disarming smile when saying, “That would be pretty unbalanced wouldn’t it? I mean, there are five of us, and three of you. I just wanted to make it even, especially with the rule change.”

As pretty as Shiozaki is, she’s used to other omega’s hostility. Uraraka’s irritation is nothing . It’s only normal such a plain looking omega like her would be so miffed when facing her, a naturally gorgeous omega bred from a high-ranking family. The green-haired girl expects combativeness. She expects less, the next claim. “It is even,” the brunette huffed. “There are four of us.”

“I thought there were only three omega in Class 1-A?” 

“There are,” Jirou Kyouka assented, still not looking up from her phone. Distractedly, the girl announced, “Kaminari just posted a selfie with Shinsou from General Ed, Tokoyami, Tsu, and Yaoyorozu.”

Bakugou hummed from the sand, drawing a few more lines. After a moment of squinting, Shiozaki realizes the little figures are initials. Bending closer, she ignores Uraraka’s annoyed squawk to see each team set up, next to their quirks, written at her feet. For the few minutes they’ve had since the headbands were passed out, and with only a handful until the cavalry battle starts, it’s pretty impressive work. To collect over half of the student’s teams prior to the start of the battle, and note their quirks– yes, she thinks she’d settle into this team well.

“Pony can only shoot out a few rounds of horns before she needs a break, Tetsutetsu melts under heat, and Awase’s fusion quirk only works if he’s touching both items– and he has butter fingers,” Shiozaki said, clinically. Only halfway through the statement does Bakugou Katsuki finally stop writing to look up at her, assessingly. And though the assessment was her initial goal when she began talking, Shiozaki finds the cold red gaze far more uncomfortable up close than it had been from yards away. Clearing her throat, she lifted her head away from it and prodded,  “So?”

“So you’re a sell-out and overly eager to betray your classmates,” Bakugou concluded, expression unwavering. The statement throws a bucket of ice water over her, and the blonde omega lets her shiver for a moment, uncertain on what he means by this and whether or not her spot on his team was secure. And even when his expression breaks away for a smirk, she’s still in doubt until he says,  “Alright, Mother Nature, you can carry us. With Gear Freak.”

“Who?” Shiozaki blurted, entirely confused, right as a heavy arm was slung over her shoulder. It smells like grease and oil and all things she normally wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.

Glancing to her side, Shiozaki’s eyes land on a girl with crazed, yellow eyes and a too wide smile.

Maybe the type of omega Bakugou Katsuki was didn’t exactly intimidate her. And for that matter, neither did Uraraka Ochako or Jirou Kyouka. But Shiozaki would soon find, there were far different types of omegas than even she knew. 

And if nothing else, Hatsume Mei was one to always be weary of.

ALL MIGHT!!!🦅🦅🏈🏈

Midoriya. Meet me upstairs before the battle.

Chapter Text

+

Toshinori Yagi was born quirkless. Toshinori Yagi was also born an alpha.

Quickly, he learned alpha and quirkless don’t go together.

Alphas are powerful. They save the day. They protect, they attack and, at the end of the story, they rescue the damsel. They get the omega. 

Quirkless people are weak. They can’t do any saving. They can’t protect or attack, and at the end of their story they end up alone and unimpressive. A forgotten tale. 

Before meeting Nana, Toshinori was worthless. A juxtaposition. An embarrassment of an alpha who couldn’t defend anyone, much less himself. Other kids bullied him, and he couldn’t do much about it beyond laying there and taking the punches. And if he couldn’t even defend himself, how could he be expected to protect others? 

Without a quirk, being a hero wasn’t an option. Being a real alpha wasn’t even an option.

All for One is the type of power people dream of, all at the tips of its wielders’ fingers. The ability to flatten entire cities in seconds, to whip the air of the atmosphere at command and topple skyscrapers with a flick of the wrist. As far as quirks went, it was pretty all-encompassing. One of the greatest in the world, and anyone could fact check that with two seconds in its glory.  Becoming the harbinger of such a devastating ability, becoming the Symbol of Peace, would give anyone whiplash. 

Going from a quirkless alpha, the lowest of low, to the holder of All for One? Going from an embarrassment of nature to the alpha of all alphas? 

Watching Midoriya Izuku’s hands shake as he stared down at them, green eyes glassy and lips trembling, All Might is reminded of himself all those years ago. A young Toshinori Yagi, trying desperately to harness the immeasurable power, when he’d never known power before. Trying to puff out his chest enough to fit into the broad shadow of the Symbol of Peace, feeling like he was slipping and falling the entire time. Masquerading as an alpha, when he hadn’t even known what that meant at the time.

Nana hadn’t gotten it. Before One for All, she’d already had a powerful quirk and a pretty mate, with pups on the way. At UA, she’d been Head Alpha all four years and demolished every Sports Festival she was in. She fated young, around the same age Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki had, only her fated had been far more agreeable and submissive to the entire thing, and so she mated early too. She didn’t have an awkward phase of trying to figure out One for All– she was a natural. She didn’t have an awkward era of trying and failing to impress her high school crushes–  she already had a willing, beautiful fated. There was never a learning curve for Nana, she had been born and bred to be Number One.

For Toshinori Yagi and Midoriya Izuku, it could never be so easy.

“Raise your head, young Midoriya. The Symbol of Peace doesn’t bow his head to anyone,” All Might coaxed, dropping a hand to the young boy’s shoulder. When all the kid does is crumble slightly under the sudden weight, the blonde sighed and squeezed slightly. Voice sterner, he asked, “Now, Izuku-shounen. It isn’t an alpha’s place to cry and whine when things don’t go their way, is it?” 

Izuku sniffed pathetically, but put in the effort to lift his eyes at the very least. In the red-rimmed gaze, Toshinori is sore to find himself, all those years ago, looking back at him. Uncertain. Lost. Needing direction.

“Something feels wrong,” Izuku said, and it sounds like a cry for help from one of the most desperate of victims. All Might squeezes his shoulder once more.

“I know, my boy. Something is wrong,” he agreed, gravelly. Of course, any respectable young alpha would’ve taken notice of such a thing. Maybe they would’ve acted with more aggression  than Izuku currently was, but Toshinori could cut the kid a little slack. Afterall, this was a very intimate situation for him– being that it involved his childhood crush, and all. “I understand how you’re feeling entirely. Watching Todoroki-san treat a young omega in such a way was hard to watch for anyone who could proudly call themselves an alpha. It was unnatural.”

Unfortunately, Izuku’s desperation doesn’t let up an ounce of his words. If anything, his shoulders hunch up more and his mouth forms a thin line. “That’s not what I– I mean…” he hesitated, drooping his gaze once more. “The way Kacchan looked at me… All Might, I just don’t know what to do.”

Ah. So it was this again, then.

The power of an omega. While alphas had the world in the palm of their hands, omegas tended to have alphas wrapped around their fingers. All Might had met plenty of crooks at the whims of a missus hidden in the shadows. One single look could send an alpha entirely into disarray, wanting more than anything to please the omega of their desires. Whether that desire be just or not.

The prettier the omega, the worst this power tended to be. And for Bakugou Katsuki, who was blossoming by the day to become a quite gorgeous and powerful one– it was only natural he’d steal the heart of All Might’s poor protege, and hold it hostage so cruelly. 

But this was just another thing All Might needed to lead him through as his mentor. The role of the fairer dynamic was important to recognize. Else the world be filled with barbaric alphas like the young Todoroki Shouto, who somehow saw it as reasonable to fist fight someone who may carry his pups at sometime in the future. (As dubious as that future may be, if Todoroki Enji had any say in it). 

“Katsuki-chan is…” All Might hesitated under the sudden force of Izuku’s green gaze rising, which were somehow more firm than they had been since he entered the small meeting room not long after the race. They tended to get like that, when this topic was brought up. “He’s confused, my boy. You must have noticed, having grown up with him, right? He’s under the impression he doesn’t need an alpha, going against his very nature. He must be fighting a war in that pretty, little head of his. But if he doesn’t stop playing around, he’s going to get himself hurt.”

Somehow, more fierce than anything he’s said thus far, Izuku had the gall to disagree. “Kacchan isn’t like that,” he said, seriously, with ferocity unfamiliar to him. “Kacchan— he’s… he’s strong.”

Katsuki-chan had him wrapped tight around that finger of his. All Might had always known this. But for it to reach the extent that he couldn’t even hear reason anymore?

All Might can’t really hold it against him. Katsuki is a pretty omega after all. Having not only the Head Alpha enthralled with him, but almost every alpha who looked at him– it was natural Midoriya Izuku, an alpha who was barely an alpha only a year ago, would cling to him so desperately. The boy was barely learning to be someone of the golden dynamic properly now, of course, he’d fall into an omegas’ web all too easily. He was just lucky he had All Might to pull the knots free and save him before he became too delirious in his efforts to win the pretty blonde’s affections.

“Izuku, he taunted you into attempting to mate with him. And now he’s doing the same to Todoroki Shouto,” All Might explained, slowly, holding up a hand when Izuku opened his mouth to argue. They’ve had this conversation a handful of times, but he wasn’t sure Izuku had ever really gotten the gravity of the situation. The boy would always get standoffish– green gaze more solid, as it was now– whenever they tentatively broached the topic. Firm in his stance that he was in the wrong, he was sorry— even when All Might tried to assure him that he had done nothing wrong; it wasn’t his fault. 

But they didn’t have time for Izuku to try and shoulder the blame any longer, not with the next round of the tournament only an hour away. All Might needed the boy to understand. He may be the only hope Bakugou Katsuki had.

And so, he didn’t soften his words when he explained: “It’s only so long until Todoroki-kun caves, though I doubt he’d have the strength to stop at a few scratches on Katsuki-chan’s neck, as you had. Don’t you think?”

Izuku’s breath quickened as it did every time that incident was brought up. Normally, All Might would slow down, try and calm him down– but the clock on the wall is ticking in the corner of his eye, and they just don’t have the time. As chivalrous as it was to try and take the fall for the omega, the truth couldn’t be brushed under the rug any longer. At this point, it was putting Bakugou Katsuki’s life at risk and Todoroki Shouto’s reputation in danger. It was putting UA’s reputation in danger.

“Do you want that, Izuku?” All Might continued, finally dropping his hand from where Izuku’s shoulders had tensed up all the way to his ears. He’s shaking slightly, his firm gaze trembling as he stares out at nothing at all. “Do you want to be the reason your best friend is forcibly mated with someone? Would you seriously rather put his pride above his safety? Do you want to see what would happen if Todoroki Shouto finally snaps and decides to put your little friend in his place?”

Izuku doesn’t respond. But his loosening fists is a testament to his faltering resolve. 

“Izuku, you saw what you could barely restrain yourself from doing to him, didn’t you? Imagine what Todoroki Shouto, who already readily assaults him and uses his quirk against him, would do?”

It goes unopposed that Katsuki wouldn’t stand a chance. 

Izuku’s nod is miniscule. Hardly a nod at all. But All Might accepts it readily, pleased the boy is finally coming to his senses again. 

Ruffling green locks, the Number One Hero smiles down at his greatest fan, proudly. “That’s my boy.”

=

“And we’re live, reporting from the field of the roaring UA Sports Festival for our annual Halftime Spotlight!” a beaming redhead reporter announced into a microphone that had morphed out of her left hand. “With only twenty-seven minutes until our daring young competitors take on the second match of the battle drill, Juko News has been let onto the field to conduct our tradition of interviewing the teams. The only news company in Japan given such privileges.”

Suck on that Kyodo News+. The words went unsaid, and yet heard by the 21.9 million tuned in and watching the redhead reporter's self satisfied smirk and the obviously fake cough she tried to use to cover up her snickering.

=

“Ayo, it’s team Barbz Forever here to represent the betas of the world! Can I get a right on or what?” Kaminari Denki announced with finger guns to the camera. Responding to the question: what’s your biggest strength and weakness as an all-beta team?

Tokoyami Fuyumi glowered darkly at his side, only slightly visible in the corner of the frame, with Kaminari Denki hogging the camera so insistently. “We agreed our name was going to be The Demonic Rising Vitriol of Tartarus,” he hissed, mouth hidden under his wing. Unfortunately for him, he was miced up, so the entire world heard his insistence and he was immediately publicly ridiculed as an emo all over various social media apps.

“No, we agreed on the Walking Dead Rejects,” Shinsou Hitoshi interjected, looking bored out of his mind on Kaminari Denki’s other side.

Momo Yaoyorozu and Asui Tsuyu, the final members of the team, shared a long suffering look that would be screenshotted and become an instant meme.

=

“Nervous? Ha, ha, nervous?! Why would we be nervous!?” Komori Kinoko demanded, a dozen new button mushrooms sprouting from her shoulders with each word. “I mean, we don’t need Shiozaki. Ha, ha, yeah. We never needed her. We’ve got this in the bag without her. Totally. Haha… hah.”

“Smooth,” Yanagi Reiko intoned, scrunching up her nose at the three black trumpets that popped up at her feet.

Pony Tsunatori and Kodai Yui blinked aimlessly at the ground where fly agaric were crowding around their toes. 

=

Scratching at his cheek, Yosetsu Awase cringed at the reporter's question. “Is that a [bleeping] serious question or?”

“Bro, don’t be rude,” Kosei Tsuburaba chided, swatting the back of his fellow betas’ head. “We’re on TV. My nana’s watching.”

“Your nana probably thinks the rule change is dumb as [bleep] too,” Awase said, with a pout.

Kosei swatted the back of his head harder. Awase shoved him back. Juzo Honenuki stepped in the frame in a weak attempt at blocking the scene of the two beta swinging at each other. “If it’s not obvious from that… We’re not very happy about the last minute rule change…” there was a pause as the reporter murmured a question of why that made Juzo frown and jut his thumb behind himself. “Well, for starters, you think those two would be on the same team if they had a choice?”

“But also,” Jurota Shishida interjected, off camera. “It makes everything a bit too unfair. I mean, Todoroki Shouto and Midoriya Izuku just basically got a free pass to the next round of the tournament, right?”

“All the alphas did,” Bondo Kojiro agreed with a heavy sigh, before turning to his still squabbling teammates. “Yo, cut it out before I glue you together for the rest of the–” 

=

“I mean, isn’t it obvi? Todoroki-kun’s team will probably be the hardest to beat, right?” Hagakure Kouji said, with enough attitude in her voice that the duh eye roll was obvious even without her being visible. “Anyway, what’s with the serious questions? Don’t you want to know the tea on who’s dating who?”

Kaibara Sen began rubbing his temples in a way that it was clear he heavily regretted joining a Class 1-A team rather than sticking it out with the 1-B betas.

A sweating Satou Rikido swore under his breath. “Hagakure, we talked about this–” 

“Let me give the people what they want,” Hagakure demanded, waving off Satou easily. “The public doesn’t want to hear about battle tactics. They want to know about our residential love triangle. You know, Todoroki-kun told me that he rejected Bakugou-chan. Oooh, I bet you want to know more about that, don’t ya?””

Kouda Kouji signs a plea for help to the camera.

=

“We’re alpha, we don’t need a game plan,” Mineta scoffed.

Setsuna Tokage, who didn’t care as much about winning as she did showing off her Geico sponsorship, just made a kissy face at the camera as she pointed at the Geico shirt she had over her uniform.

Shouji Mezou sighed heavily as Oijirou Mashirao tiredly insisted, “We have a game plan.”

=

“What do you mean the name The Demonic Rising Vitriol of Tartarus was already taken by another beta team?” Kuroiro Shihai demanded, clearly vexed. 

Behind him, Hiryu Rin and Kamakiri Togaru high fived. Shouda Nirengeki silently pumped his fist in the air. Manga Fukidashi was surrounded by exclamation points and red and gold manga boxes reading words like hooray! and f@#0 yeah!

=

“You can follow me on @ashiido.miina on Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram– oh, but on VSCO it’s only one ‘i’ in Mina, and on–” Ashido Mina would have continued listing on handles for the remainder of the few seconds the reporter had with the team had the woman not interjected then, redirecting the conversation back to the original topic. (How Ashido Mina managed to jump from the teams’ thoughts on the other alpha teams to shouting out her social medias, not a soul would be able to explain, even after replaying the footage). 

“Our biggest battle is obviously against the Head Alpha’s team, but never fear, for…” Monoma Neito practically sparkled as he reclaimed the camera for himself. For a grand total of two seconds, as in the moments he spared for a dramatic pause, Kendo Itsuka had found the perfect time to cut in.

“Right. I think that’s the team we’re most evenly matched with. I mean,” the orange haired girl gestured to the flexing Tetsutetsu at her side. “We have Tetsutetsu, they have Kirishima. And obviously, there’s Midoriya and Todoroki. And well–”

As Kendo continued to list various pairing attributes about each team, the camera focused on a Midoriya Izuku whose eyes are glued to something off camera. 

He doesn’t say a word the entire interview. 

=

“This is blatant sexism. UA should be sued for this. When they made the announcement I could hardly remember what year it was— 2156, or somewhere in the dark ages,” Uraraka Ochako scoffed, midway into her tirade. Entirely ignoring the initial question directed at Bakugou Katsuki of how his instincts were reacting to his fight against his fated. The redheaded reporter, far too used to this by now, frowned solemnly. “Making us worth less points is almost like them saying we’re worth less. Which is [censored]. You know, all of us placed in the top 20% of the first round, right? [censored], we have the second place on our team, and somehow we’re worth less than Mineta Minori’s team? That’s [censored]! He scored dead last!” 

At her side, the beautiful Shiozaki has a mortified smile frozen on her perfect face. Jirou Kyouka is showing something to Hatsume Mei on her phone. Bakugou Katsuki yawned.

()

Shortly after the rule change was announced (to mixed reactions from both the audience and the students), the alphas of Class 1-A, B and Support, split into three relatively even groups. Shouto hadn’t even bothered pretending to be interested in the social politics that went into this as everyone postured up against each other, puffing their chests and holding intense-awkward-staring-matches to prove their dominance. In the end, he’d been shoveled in with Kirishima, Sero, Aoyama and Iida. Which, as far as teams went, was a pretty decent spot given that Midoriya Izuku headed one of the other alpha teams and Mineta Minori was on the other. 

As far as how well their powers matched up, Shouto wasn’t all that invested. The rule changes weren’t only obviously sexist, but they also sucked any fun out of the match. All alpha teams would have to do was coast by without losing their headbands and they’d pass the round. It turned the game from an exhilarating hunting match, to a cheap round of keep-away. Shouto wasn’t too thrilled with the fact that his job for this round of the tournament would just be tightening a hair accessory on his head and sitting pretty. At least the omegas and beta got some sort of tension in this round; as unfair a disadvantage they were given.

Unconsciously, his eyes trail to Bakugou Katsuki’s team, having just finished their own interview. The blonde is huddled all close and secretive with a few others in his group— for absolutely no reason, since Shouto can hear every word of how he plans to rip Mineta’s balls off with how loud he’s talking. (Best of all, he doesn’t clarify which balls he means. Mineta looks like he’s about to piss himself). 

A small smirk twitches onto his lips at the ridiculousness of his fated.  

Which is immediately wiped off when Uraraka Ochako catches his gaze and makes a hand gesture so crude he choked on his next breath.

The reporter’s beady eyes zero in on the motion immediately and Shouto feels his heart sink. He’d done so good at playing the background-character-who-has-nothing-to-add up until that point, staying entirely still and shielding himself with Kirsihima’s bulky form. He’d even wiggled his way out of her question on what it was like to be Head Alpha by passing it onto Iida. 

(“You can ask Iida-san. He’s a great class president.” 

“Todoroki-san, the question was about Head Alpha, not class pres–”

“It’s an honorable position that I take very seriously. The well-being of my classmates is my top priority—“)

“Todoroki Shouto, we’ve gotten a lot of viewer’s questions about you,” she interrupted Iida’s explanation about how to perfectly hard boil an egg. How their Half Time Highlight had led to the subject of cooking eggs, he’d never know. He’d been too busy trying to spot a certain blonde across the field to pay attention to that particular question at the time.

Though he really wouldn’t mind knowing Iida’s insights on egg boiling if it meant he could sink back into the background and avoid the next question of, “Any comment on the backlash on how you treated your fated in the last match?”

The redheaded reporter is looking at him winningly, as though she’d just won something by finally turning the interview around to the topic that would draw in the most attention. Sticking her microphone up to his face, her eyes gleam as she waits anxiously for Shouto to answer and spike their viewership. She probably thought that no matter what he said, it would just add oil to an already blazing fire. No matter what he said, viewers would pour in to hear him address the controversy. More than Iida’s egg boiling comments were reeling in, at least.

Too bad she didn’t know that Shouto’s played this game a million times over before.

“No comment,” Shouto said, neutrally, not giving the camera an ounce of expression as he stared blankly ahead. 

Having grown up as the Second Ranked Pro Hero of Japan’s son, publicity was inescapable. It came with the whole influencer aspect of a hero's job. People lived for a good story, and what better story was there than interviewing a teary eyed seven-year-old about how he felt watching his father dive into a flaming skyscraper? The public wanted to watch a heroes’ trials and tribulations. They wanted to watch their family burst into tears after they lost a fight and the heroes’ mates run into each other's arms after a battle well won. They wanted little Todoroki Shouto at the age of four to answer questions like ‘Do you think your dad’s going to make it out of this one?’ after a whole apartment complex had just collapsed on the man two seconds prior. (The meme of him responding, ‘I don’t know. I think the door is gone now.’ had followed him around until he was twelve). 

Shouto’s mastered the art of looking disinterested in the face of publicity. He’s grown up doing it. It’s far too easy to glance off to the side and grimace at where Uraraka Ochako is making an even cruder hand motion somehow. (If nothing at all, she was creative).

“Right then, any comments on the example you’re setting for young alphas watching the Sports Festival right now?” the reporter continued, stepping closer to him despite Iida’s attempts to get the conversation back to the topic of the perfect egg-boiling temperature. 

Gracing the mic shoved further into his face a split second glance before shrugging, Shouto easily said, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’ with just enough nonchalance that the redhead’s eyebrow twitched.

“You know, you have to add the egg to an ice bath immediately after it leaves the pot so it’s easier to peel. Or you’ll burn your fingers,” Iida interjected, informingly. 

“Nah man, you gotta run the egg under room temperature water,” Kirishima interjected, mock-seriously.

Sero snickered as he also interjected, much to Iida’s chargain, “Peel it while it’s in boiling water, or you’re a wimp.”

The reporter’s eyebrow twitched even more. Shouto felt a smirk twitch onto his lips.

Maybe his team wasn’t so bad.

Shouto gets three seconds to appreciate this realization, before the reporter continues, pensively. “Right, okay. And no comment on how rumors of your father’s past abusive behavior could’ve led you to who you are today?”

“N– what?”

The reporter smiled. Shouto’s stomach dropped.

See, there are three mistakes one shouldn’t make when dealing with pesky reporters. Don’t meet their eyes. Avoid awkwardly laughing and being overtly expressive. And never, never question them back.

Shouto had grown up with this. Shouto knew this. He’d been in worse interviews than this. Seriously, once someone asked him if he knew about the allegations of his fathers’ numerous visits to Bachelor Clubs and if he could give a statement on it. He’d been nine.

Then again, no one had ever really asked him about that before. His father had covered it up so well, no one was supposed to know.

“Netizens have dug up some of comments your father has previously made on podcasts, as well as, very recently, an ongoing legal case with plaintiff Miss Todoroki Rei,” the reporter continued, overzealous to give an answer to his confusion. Shouto suddenly feels very very sick, her words like knives against his suddenly pounding skull. “Your mother alleged Mr. Todoroki Enji engaged in repeated abuse and neglect during their marriage, and eventually left him when you were– let's see. Was it five or six?”

Five. 

He’d been five.

“Get Shouto out now,” Touya shouted, leaning over their mother’s shaking form. Shouto doesn’t remember what his oldest brother looks like, but he remembers the shaking rage in his voice when he said, “he looks too much like him for his own good.”

“Todoroki-san? Any comments on the comparisons drawn between you and your father by netizens?” the reporter questioned, looking far too pleased with herself. 

Shouto blinked slowly, the breath leaving his lungs all at once. Comparisons?

“You’re an alpha. Just like your father, Shouto. Everyday I’m scared you’ll end up just like him.”

Shouto’s mouth feels like sandpaper.

“Miss Reporter, the round is about to start actually,” Aoyama Yuuga interjected, his words feeling so far away and echoing through his head at the same time. Shouto feels too dizzy to hold eye contact with his worried baby blues. “We need to start getting ready…”

“But–”

“Yeah, sorry, show’s over,” Kirishima Eijirou huffed, shifting so his far-too-broad-to-be-fair shoulders blocked Shouto’s view of the camera.

The reporter makes another noise of complaint, but Shouto stops paying attention to whatever Sero and Iida snap at her, gaze stuck on the dirt below. 

Hot water scalds his face. 

Five-year-old Shouto screams. And screams. And screams.

And eleven years later, when the alarm announcing the second round of the battle drill has begun, Todoroki Shouto feels his scar still burning.

Chapter Text

:

“Whose bright idea was it to reintroduce dynamic segregation to this competition in the midst of the most publicity we’ve ever had?” Aizawa snarled, only four minutes to the start of the Cavalry Battle. “And does their name rhyme with Not-Bright , by any chance?”

Principal Nezu sighed over the melted cheese in his mug, shooting the teacher what must have been a very dreary look if he hadn’t been a mouse with only three expressions available to him. His tired tone made up for what his countenance couldn’t in his meager explanation of, “My hands are tied, Aizawa-san. We did it your way for the first round of the tournament, now it’s All Mights’ turn.”

“And the best thing he could come up with was segregating our students by dynamic?” Aizawa demanded. And his words would’ve been disbelieving, had he not known the man who demanded such a change. The second he heard about the rule adjustment, there was not a doubt in his mind about who had come up with such an absurd idea. How that man got such an idiotic idea through to the tournament in as short as a few hours? Now that , Aizawa wasn’t as certain about. Why he had raced up to the skybox to confront the president directly the second he heard of it. “How could you let this happen, Nezu? What happened to no exceptions to tradition on the basis of just two students ?”

Two beady eyes drew together slightly, the fur between them creasing the slightest bit. There was a sudden gleam to Nezu’s eyes that Aizawa didn’t quite like as the principal sized him up. “Forgive me, but I didn’t realize you were so concerned in this sort of topic, Aizawa-san. You’ve never been so interested in the affairs of this festival before,” he eventually admitted, contemplatively.

Aizawa grit his teeth, unable to dismiss the claim so easily. Normally, he slept through the festival in a nice perch in the stands. Outside of informing his students of when it would be happening and the importance of securing an internship through it, he had no real interest in it. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the name of whoever it was that won the year before. Even when he’d learned Bakugou Katsuki would be the first omega to give the opening speech, he hadn’t thought much beyond, ‘ damn, I have to be the one to tell him…’

How could he argue against Nezu’s claim after thinking like that, not even a month ago? 

Taking pity on him, the principal cleared his throat. “If you must know, it was a demand made by a few of our investors,” he informed, with a furtive glance towards the door. Leaning forward the slightest bit and lifting a paw to conceal his mouth, he continued. “To be honest, I’m not too fond of this either, but it wouldn’t be fair to cancel the Sports Festival midway and not even give the students a chance just because a few big names in the hero industry threw a fit– would it?” 

“This is supposed to be a chance ? The scales are tipped too unfairly,” Aizawa grunted, eyes trailing to the open windows. Down below, the stands were steadily filling once more as onlookers prepared for the next round of the tournament. Two minutes were on the clock.

On the jumbotron, Uraraka Ochako is displayed laughing as she ties a silver headband to Bakugou Katsuki’s forehead. Even on the screen, the vividness of his red gaze is fierce. 

The gleam is back in Nezu’s eyes when Aizawa turns back to him. Mouth hidden by his glass of cheese, the mouse asked, “ In whose favor were they tipped, do you wager? ”

^^

Fuyumi only has a handful of seconds to think ‘ something’s wrong’ -- to contemplate the sudden paleness of Shouto’s face and that awful look in his eyes, so vivid even on the slight blurriness of the jumbotron screen– before the alarm signifying the start of the match blares, followed by an explosion so intense it rocks her to her very core.  

Instinctively, she scrambles for the closest alpha’s arm, breath hitching in her throat. Her first thought is that the arena had been compromised, just as the USJ had been only a month ago. The League of Villains is here, ready to claim more victims, and her baby brother is down on the field in the range of fire . Smoke clouds her vision— so much so that she can’t see him . He could be in danger and she can’t even see him . Judging by the rising exclamations and flood of panicked omegan and alpha scents that swarm her, she isn’t the only one with the thought. Around them, parents are jumping to their feet and racing to the edge of the bleachers in alarm.

“It’s okay,” a warm voice assures her, anchoring her before she can lose herself in the rising hysteria. 

By all means, it’s really not okay at all. Her baby brother’s somewhere down there in that smog, out of her reach, and her father is off somewhere in the stadium by himself . Her vision is shaky from smog and nerves and her heart won’t stop pounding against her chest as though it’s trying to escape and run away from the danger. Fuyumi’s terrified .

And yet still, she finds herself melting to the reassurance, finding solace in the firm hand that grips hers’ back and the comforting scent that comes with it. Slowly raising her gaze, she meets Mitsuki’s eyes just in time for them to crinkle under the force of her smile. Amused, the woman said, “Katsuki has a thing for dramatics.”

Another explosion causes her to jolt in her seat and when her eyes fall to the field, the smoke has cleared up enough that she can see the blonde who fired it. 

Already donning two of the other team’s headbands.  

This time, the screams are that of excitement and awe. Fuyumi’s own mouth gapes as she watches the omega team and wonders ‘ these are the fragile little things the media was throwing a fit over?’

Outside of her family, her father didn’t permit her to hang around alphas unless strictly necessary. When she started attending school, it was at Silver Dame , an all omega academy that ran from preschool to high school. And when she graduated, it had taken her months to convince her father that while, yes , she had a chance of running into alphas at the university she picked , her major was education and alphas rarely ever chose that pathway. Her friend groups had always been composed solely of omegas, and– she hadn’t been lying– her college classes were majority members of the silver dynamic as well. 

As far as Fuyumi had known, at least before meeting Bakugou Katsuki a few weeks ago, omegas were soft and docile. They were naturally akin to child rearing and taking care of the home. It was biological for them to cry easier and cower to danger. They didn’t do things like yell at their alpha parents as Katsuki had done in her dining room before his future pack. They didn’t do things like proclaim they would win the U.A. Sports Festival with their head held high and tone arrogant as Katsuki had done only hours ago. 

And they certainly didn’t do things like smacking an alpha across the face with their earlobes as that purple haired omega on Katsuki’s team had just done. 

At first, Fuyumi had assumed Katsuki was an outlier– what happened when two alpha parents tried to raise an omega the same way they would raise a child of any other dynamic. Abrasive, violent and unconcerned, he was everything she truly thought an omega was not. One in a million. An abnormality.

Watching the way the green-haired omega shook the ground to knock a group of betas off their feet, Fuyumi’s breath hitched once more.

“ Powerful , aren’t they?” Mitsuki murmured at her side, a proud smile on her face. 

Fuyumi doesn’t think she’s ever heard that word in reference to omegas before. 

Mitsuki squeezes her hand back where Fuyumi still holds it. 

<>

Bakugou Katsuki’s team takes out two of four beta teams in the first ten seconds of the five minutes they have. Yaoyorozu Momo’s team was lucky to not be one of them.

“I think I just pissed myself,” Kaminari Denki moaned, atop their teams’ shoulders, eyes wide where he watches Team Bakugou turn on the second group of omegas (the ones who aren’t defective and actually act like omegas judging by the way they all immediately scream high-pitched and horrified in the face of such danger). 

“ Dude ,” Tokoyami said. “If you pissed on me, I’m throwing you to that team.” 

“I’d feel better if you threw me to lions ,” Kaminari admitted. “Oh my god. Tell me sweet, sweet Uraraka-chan did not just judo flip that small omega with one hand…”

“She didn’t. That was actually a jiu jitsu technique, but I can see where you got confused,” Asui Tsuyu corrected, sounding like she always did. Entirely uninterested and unbothered by the happenings around her.

Kaminari buried his face in his hands and let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

“Oh my god, you’ve met omegas know how to fight– the world is upside down or whatever,” Shinsou sympathized, in the most deadpan tone Momo had ever heard. And she’d grown up with Todoroki Shouto . Rolling his eyes skyward, the beta continued, “You can have your nervous breakdown later. We’re running out of options if we’re going to make it to the next round.”

He was right, of course. Originally, the plan had been to go after the omega teams and secure their spot in the next round through the additional hundred points they’d earn by taking both teams’ headbands. That was, of course, before the alarm initiating the Cavalry Battle went off and one of those omega teams they were going to take out turned around and took out the two beta teams that had been closest to them. All before any other team even had the chance to move.

Momo hadn’t even seen what happened. View clouded by the smoke from Bakugou’s explosion, she and her entire team were entirely defenseless during the few seconds it’d taken for Team Hagakure and Team Kuroiro to lose their headbands. Not only that, but each was left struggling with vines or nursing wounds, out of the race when the battle had barely even started. 

Unconsciously, Momo’s eyes flew to the parent section and imagined it was her struggling in that foliage now. It was far, but she knows her mother’s up there and could see the face she’d have made all too clearly. The pursed lips, the downcast gaze, the furrowed eyebrows. She was overly familiar with her mother’s disappointed expression.

They had to make it through this round. At least.

Quickly surveying their options, Momo nodded to where the other beta team had inched to the side of the field furthest from Team Bakugou. “We’ll go after Awase’s team,” she instructed, all business. “We have over half our time left, so don’t worry. This was just…” 

Not unexpected. Even when they’d agreed to go after the two omega teams, Momo had felt a slight unease overcoming her. Before the battle started, she’d been watching Team Bakugou– all for Shouto, of course , don’t get it twisted. When her childhood friend hadn’t responded to any of her texts, she’d been left to wonder what had happened when he and Bakugou were separated from the rest of the students. That’s how it had started anyway, but she couldn’t help that as she was watching, she also happened to notice the confident smirk on a certain purple-haired girl’s face. Or the way her dark eyes had crinkled carefreely when they mistakenly matched hers, seconds before the start of the match.

But they were omegas . Of course, they’d seemed like they’d be the easiest prey in the battle. They were only worth fifty points as a team, after all. Who could’ve guessed they’d be leading the scoreboard a minute into the match?

Then again– Momo glanced at where Bakugou had just snatched the headband from Komori’s head– she doubted anyone really ever sees the blonde omega coming. 

“Let’s go,” Asui interjected, as her statement trailed off into awkward silence. “Before Uraraka-san decides to come and judo flip Kaminari-san.”

Kaminari flinched.

!

“We technically don’t even have to fight. We already have two hundred points– you know that right, guys?” Mina Ashido said, wearily. And then again, in the discomforting silence, “ Guys ?”

But she was about ten seconds late to do anything about it. By the time the smoke cleared, by the time Izuku and Todoroki locked eyes– hell , by the time they stepped foot into the classroom on their first day at UA– this was bound to happen. 

Since Izuku was a kid, all he’d ever wanted was Katsuki’s eyes to flash silver for him. Over the years, he’d grown certain that one day, when they were old enough, the blonde would be his mate and he would be his. It was bound to happen as close as they were, and that made the fact that he was a quirkless, weak, loser of an alpha somehow easier to swallow. Even if he was pitiful in almost all senses, at least one day, he’d be fated to someone as amazing as Kacchan. His sad reality was slightly easier to consume knowing this.

Todoroki Shouto had stolen that. On top of being the Head Alpha of Class 1-A at UA– who could command their entire classroom into submission with ease– Todoroki Shouto was fated to the most beautiful, most intelligent, most powerful omega Izuku knew. Izuku had spent years wanting and wanting and wanting.

And Todoroki Shouto didn’t even care .

Initially, Izuku had wanted to like him. When they’d first been fated, he prepared to do everything in his power to let Todoroki know that he supported their relationship. Katsuki could be a bit abrasive, and the green-haired alpha had wanted to do everything in his power to soften the blow of the blonde’s personality. After all, Izuku wanted only the best for him, and at the time, only the best would be to not chase his fated off because the blonde was too immature to realize how lucky he was to have fate pair him with the son of the second ranked Pro Hero in Japan. Plus, there was the factor of most alpha being territorial. Any other alpha would’ve thrown a huge fit over their omega’s best friend being a member of the golden dynamic. Any other alpha would’ve been disgruntled that Katsuki was masking his scent with another alpha’s those first few weeks of school. Izuku hadn’t wanted to threaten Todoroki, or anything.

But even back then, Izuku had felt disgruntled. Growing up, he’d never gotten along with the tall, charming alpha type. He’d always had a smaller build, and being so puny as a member of the highest dynamic had put a target on his back for bullying from the bigger members of his dynamic. If anything, when he saw who Katsuki’s fated was, he almost expected to be beaten to a pulp in the next second since Katsuki had still been wearing his old All Might sweater. 

But then, Todoroki Shouto didn’t treat him poorly. 

Even worse, Todoroki Shouto hadn’t treated him any way at all.

The other alpha hadn’t responded to any of Izuku’s attempts to buddy up with him. Ever indifferent, he hardly even looked Izuku’s way. Where another alpha would’ve interrogated the green-haired boy about his relationship with the blonde or puffed out his chest to him, Todoroki Shouto hadn’t even seen him as a threat . Even after what happened during the Battle Drill, even knowing their history, the taller alpha hadn’t ever seen him as someone who could even remotely come between him and his fated.

And why would he? The other alpha was half a head taller than him. He had a quirk that Katsuki acknowledged with an admiring glaze in his pretty red eyes on their first day of classes. Every person in their class respected him as a leader. In what world would Izuku– who hadn’t even been a real alpha a few months ago– come close to threatening his relationship with his fated?

As it stood, Izuku was pretty sure Katsuki didn’t even like him as a friend anymore. Katsuki wouldn’t even say his name anymore. Katsuki looked at him like he was as detestable as a villain. 

In the first round of the tournament, Katsuki had looked at Todoroki Shouto like he had hung the stars and the moon. He’d called him by his first name. When had he started doing that?

Did Todoroki even care?

“Are we really doing this?” Mina bemoaned into the staticky silence. Her question is left unanswered outside of Kendo’s comforting pat on the back, the rest of the team having long since resigned themselves to this turn of events. 

“Todoroki!” Izuku yelled over the thunder of explosions and the rumble of the ground shaking. The lights flicker again, but that does little to stop the green-haired alpha from seeing where the boy he called doesn’t so much as flinch at the cry of his name. Where he doesn’t even spare him a split second glance. Anger bubbles up in Izuku’s chest as he realizes he’s getting dismissed again – spreading up his throat and out to poison his words when he continues, “On the prowl for more omegas to abuse? Kacchan unavailable?”

Todoroki doesn’t look like he even heard him, eyes cast far into the distance– some point far away from where the green-haired boy's ire is boiling over. Izuku sees red, opening his mouth to spit out more venom– to do anything to get the other alphas as worked up as he is, to get the other alpha to pay him any mind at all– when he gets a response. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Trying to go for a second round of forced mating?” It's Sero who calls back, coyly. They’re only words, but it feels like a punch to the gut against Izuku’s resolve. A solemn reminder of that day . Of trembling hands and shaky red eyes. Of the reason Kacchan wouldn’t even say his name anymore and looked at him as though he was as detestable as a villain.

Izuku wouldn’t have been able to respond with as dry as his mouth had suddenly gotten. Instead, it’s Monoma who takes up the reins of the brewing fight, lighthearted laughter threaded through his tone. “What are you supposed to be? His little bitch?” the blonde snarked back to ravenette. “Your Head Alpha can’t speak for himself again ?”

“Stay out of it 1-B, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sero returned, hotly. Too hotly for someone as nonchalant as he normally was.

“What the hell are you trying to do, Midoriya- san ?” Kirishima spoke over where Sero and Monoma have begun to growl at each other. Ever reasonable, his hands are raised in show of surrender, clearly aligning with the thought process that there was no reason for them to fight. “We both already have two hundred point–”

“See, that’s what I was trying to say!” Ashido insisted, cutting off the redhead. Said redhead whose eyes fly to her instantly, tracking her every movement as she continues excitedly. “All this over an omega who’d probably be fine getting both your knots wet. Can we please be serious?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Ashido?” Kirishima demanded, hands dropping to his side, balled into fists. 

The pink-skinned girl in question rolled her eyes. “Grow up, Kirishima. When are you going to become an actual alpha ?”

Now Kirishima, normally level-headed and steady Kirishima, is growling too.

“My fellow alphas,” Iida began, cordially. “We must think logically–”

“Shut the fuck up, four-eyes,” Tetsutetsu demanded, a wide smile on his face that foretold he was simply happy to be involved in the slinging insults. At his side, Kendo grimaced. 

Alpha scents growing more potent from both teams, it’s hard not to let instincts go haywire and throw themselves at each other. Any alpha would be struggling to keep their head in that moment. It’s a wonder they manage to stay civil as long as they did, with their prides all on the line. And yet still, even as Kirishima’s campfire scent blazes to a near nauseating degree and Sero’s growl grates at everyone’s ears, Todoroki Shouto is still unmoved from where he’d been checked out of the conversation. As though there isn’t a group of riled up alphas preparing to attack him at any second, he sits wordlessly calm. Unbothered. Dismissive. As though Izuku’s team isn’t even worth a second to fret over. 

Todoroki Shouto doesn’t even care .

Izuku needs him to look at him .

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s just the right jumble of words at the right moment. But when Izuku shouts out– “You’re going to burn him, Todoroki! You’re going to turn him to ashes if you don’t leave him alone! You abusive asshole!” Todoroki Shouto flinched.

And then the world around Midoriya Izuku turned to ice .

()

Todoroki Shouto isn’t lucid for the fight that ensues. Body there, bleeding and bruising, his mind was far off somewhere unknown. Somewhere too cold and too hot at once. Somewhere where his mom’s vacant stare bores into his bones and his father’s hand weighs heavy on his shoulder. 

He doesn’t know how long it lasts. He doesn’t even remember the sound of the buzzer marking the end of the match going off. 

But he does remember the satisfying crunch of Izuku’s skin under his fist before faculty pulls them off of each other.

–

UA OFFICIAL SPORTS FESTIVAL LIVE STREAM

Current: 05:39:15

Remaining: 2:21:45

@misatoe i have so many thoughts right now i feel like i’m about to explode

@erenyeager.r NOOOO THE TIMER GOING OFF RIGHT WHEN TODO AND MIDO POUNCED EACH OTHER IS A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY

@leoreo idkk i’m kinda glad it stopped. that whole fight was starting to look really nasty

@joo.ha.jin did anyone else’s audio cut off during the focus on team midoriya and team todoroki?

@liahogan DIVA DOWN!!! NOOO TEAM AWASE WAS TAKEN OUT!!!!

@arabellaoh OMGGG THOSE OMEGAS?????????????? SLAYYYYYYYYYYY

@sanjislefttoe Okay, right? @leoreo Like Todoroki was not there. That look on his face actually scared me….

@233232allmightlovr Does UA know we can read lips? LOL what’s the point of bleeping the audio?

@edward.cv.llen RIP Queen Hagakure, our tea spilling queen. Taken out too early <3

@haughtyheights_ lol y does the ua sports festival have major omega rights rally vibes this year

@brn2mkhstry i think someone was genuinely abt to die :,)

@nerdprojects2when Streets are saying UA is trying to cover up some big scandal that happened a while back at the school and that’s why everything after Hanta Sero started speaking was bleeped

@flowers_for_uraraka GO TEAM OMEGAS! JEJE! >:D

@lalalisakinda Midoriya Izuku is such a sweetheart it hurts to see him all beat up :( Why are the alpha more rough than they were in previous years??

@stephanila sero clearly said ‘second round of forced mating’ didn’t he??? i’m not going crazy right???? why aren’t more people flipping out about this??????

@ksiclvb Ugh. Omegas ruin everything. Tdk and Mdy would probably be bros if they weren’t distracted by that little blonde bitch

click for more comments

Bakugou Katsuki, Uraraka Ochako, Jirou Kyouka, Shiozaki Ibara, and Hatsume Mei become biggest group of omegas to advance to Final Round of Sports Festival in U.A. History

Abuse and Neglect Lawsuit Against Second Top Pro Hero in Japan Endeavor Amidst UA Sports Festival

Beef between Head Alpha Todoroki Shouto and Class 1-A Student Midoriya Izuku explained. Former classmate of Midoriya says, “He’s always followed around his Kacchan like a lost puppy”

Mysterious censoring of conversation between alphas at UA Sports Festival prompts internet sleuths investigation on UA students and faculty

Hearts Broken! Fellow Classmate of Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki Reveals that the Alpha may have already Rejected their Fating!

Team Bakugou Secures an Astounding 500 Points, Placing Far Ahead of Other Advancing Alpha Team Todoroki, Alpha Team Midoriya, and Beta Team Kaminari

How UA is going to handle having omegas in their final matchups? Are more rule changes expected?

Brutal Fight between Alpha Teams Makes Spectators Excited for the Finals

What to do at the UA Sports Festival between matches? Food, festivities, and more!

Chapter Text

What to do at the UA Sports Festival between matches? Food, festivities, and more!

Byline: Uchiha Naruto

1 Oct 2156

If you’re anything like me, somewhere in between watching Bakugou Katsuki sucker punch another alpha or Todoroki Shouto and Midoriya Izuku battle to the death, your stomach will start growling. A meal is long overdue. And if you’re not feeling the Sports Arenas’ stale chili fries, you’re in luck!

Just around the corner of the UA Sports Festival Arena is a hidden gem for all tourists visiting for the event. A night market sets up the entire week leading up to the event, open from dayrise to far past midnight on both days of battles. Street food and performances by current Japan Pro Heroes are available throughout the evening, followed by an impressive firework show at midnight that cannot be missed.

With any luck, in between slurping down a hot cup of ramen and watching famous Pro Heroes breakdance, you’ll run into one of the current stars of the Sports Festival to get an autograph!

^.^

“ You’re going home ?!” Uraraka Ochako cried, the same way a desperate female lead would cry out to a love departing to the battlefield. Only her love was a disgruntled looking Bakugou Katsuki and the battlefield was his strict, self-inflicted 8 p.m. bedtime. Chasing after the blonde’s hastily retreating form, she hardly cared that she was making a scene in the midst of the bustling locker rooms as she whined, “But the Wild, Wild Pussycats are performing!” 

In half an hour . Principal Nezu had already wasted a good hour of their time emphasizing how important it was to show up on time tomorrow and congratulating those who advanced. As it stood, they already had fallen far behind their peers who hadn’t made it past the Cavalry Battle and had gotten released to the festival early. Hagakure had already posted from her spot at the very front of the stage where the Pussycats were set to perform, and the crowd around her had been wild . By the time they made it, there may not be any space left for them. And Katsuki was wasting time with ridiculous talk about how he didn’t want to go and needing beauty sleep .

Jirou Kyouka was much more casual about her intervention. Stepping into their explosive friends’ pathway, she gave him a dreary look before flicking his forehead, where several headbands of gold, silver and bronze were still tied winningly against his forehead. “Celebrate a little, would you? We just kicked ass,” she admonished in her usual I-couldn’t-care-less tone. Though, knowing Kyouka, this was the equivalent of her getting down on her knees and begging.

Ochako imagined that if Kyouka had done something as drastic as dropping into a kowtow before Katsuki to beg, he still would’ve had the same reaction of ruthlessly stepping past her with a scoff. “Getting squished like a sardine between a bunch of extras isn’t my idea of fun,” the blonde said, the way someone who was a party-pooper-and-zero-fun would say. Sure, the crowds were bound to be huge. But this was their first Sports Festival! And they were coming off of an insane victory– scoring 500 points in the Cavalry Battle. Even Shiozaki, who Ochako was pretty sure didn’t even like her before the match, had been excited to join them. “Besides, I didn’t even bring a change of clothes.”

A red sweatshirt, smelling distinctly of campfires and mid-August, hits the blonde square in the chest before he’d even finished speaking. Katsuki fumbled to catch it, in between raising surprised, wine red eyes to the boy who threw it.

“Come on, man. Don’t make us go through this again. Do you know how long it took us to convince Todoroki-kun to not take off the second the match ended?” Kirishima complained from where he was relaxed against the lockers with his Cavalry Battle group– all aside from his Todoroki-kun, who Ochako had been certain had gone home up until then. His words were casual for an alpha who had just offered up an article of clothing to an omega. Oddly so, since alpha normally only offered up such a thing for an omega going into heat or to cover up their scent in a claiming sort of gesture.

Kyouka is giving Ochako a look that she’s desperately trying to ignore, knowing what sort of expression she’d make if she matched gazes with the other girl now.

Ochako was still trying to decide whether Kirishima in all his red glory was a walking red flag or not. Or really, honestly, what his deal was, in general. Unlike a majority of the other alphas in their class, he was respectful and loud about it. He knew a remarkable amount about omegan rights and let that be known in all his quips to Mineta, or Ashido, or Kaminari, or Ashido ( he and her were always at it– something about them growing up together, or whatever ). On paper, he was the perfect alpha. All muscle and macho on the outside, with the sensitivity and understanding any omega would dream of.

Really, Ochako never thought she would meet an alpha like him, certain alpha omegan-activists were just a thing of young omegas’ midnight fantasies. ( They certainly were a central part of hers, at least ). 

This made him suspiciously hard to read. Especially when he did things like chuck his scent-oozing sweatshirt at a Katsuki who– oh fuck , was still frozen and staring down at that said sweatshirt. With the most obvious pink tinge to his cheeks. 

In between bruising dozens of their classmates and writing omegan history before a global audience at his side, Ochako had completely forgotten what an inexperienced klutz Bakugou could be when it came to romantic gestures. Sure , he could probably save the world, no issue. But would she put her life in his hands if the only thing between herself and a gunman was Bakugou addressing his pent up emotions? God, she’d probably just end up taking the gun and shooting herself to get it over with.

At face value, it was actually kind of cute. Bakugou was a total tsundere when it came to this sort of thing, a whole Tomoe or Inuyasha– too proud to admit his feelings, but somehow so obvious about them all the same. Though he may never admit it, the way his cheeks flushed betrayed the heat of his thoughts at that moment. And that gleam in his eyes, honestly, he might as well just grab Kirishima by the shoulders, shake and scream about how much he wanted to bone him. 

This would be funny, if it didn’t lead to even the oblivious Iida Tenya tilting his head at the blonde in confusion as he visibly buffered before the entire locker room. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“See! Look! Now you don’t have any excuses,” Ochako is quick to blurt, before the awkward silence can continue any longer. Throwing an arm over Katsuki’s shoulder to break him out of whatever embarrassing daze he’d fallen into, she smiled at where Kirishima had started to purse his lips in confusion. The gears turning in the alpha’s head were almost loud enough for even her to hear, rusty as they were ( omegan activist or not, Kirishima had still firmly argued that a rhombus had six sides just a few days ago in class. His idiocy was the only thing saving Bakugou from his feelings being exposed right then and there ). “Thanks, Kiri! Now Kats has to go with us!”

Katsuki doesn’t even have the audacity to argue any further, not when Kyouka looks on the verge of bursting into laughter at him and even Hatsume Mei has paused her tinkering to cringe up at him.

“Hah, don’t mention it. I run warm anyway, so I won’t need it,” Kirishima waved it off, blasé. Quickly, the downturn of his lips had reverted back to their natural state and his eyes crinkled. Ochako can’t help the instinctive thought of ‘ idiot ’ that shot through her mind at the sight of it. What type of alpha has a blushing bombshell like Bakugou Katsuki accepting his offered article of clothing with little more than an easy smile and a , “I’ll catch you later, Bakugou.”

Maybe he’s a player? Maybe he was so casual because this was normal for him. Maybe there were hundreds of other omegas walking around wrapped in the warmblooded Kirishima Eijirou’s sweatshirts. 

Watching where the warmblooded Kirishima Eijirou proceeded to turn to Iida and ask with fervor about where he got his Sonic the Hedgehog crocs, Ochako shook her head. 

Nah, had to be something else.

Ochako returns Kyoukas’ look this time, finding a promise for a Facetime sesh in her bemused expression. Whatever it was, they’d get to the bottom of it before 3a.m. that night, surely. After all, they were the ones that caught onto Hagakure and Oijirou’s secret relationship first– and Hagakure was literally invisible . If they could catch an invisible woman red handed, they could gossip their way into whatever Kirishima’s deal was.

Knowing this, she loops her arm through a still blushing Katsuki’s and launches into an immediate rant about the Wild, Wild Pussycats’ new album.

()

Normally, Shouto would always pick going home and rotting in bed if given an option. 

The Night Festival isn’t a required event of the Sports Festival. Students who attended it in previous years blamed it when they failed their individual matches, claiming they had too much fun celebrating the night before or ate too many takoyaki at the stalls. If he were serious about winning– which he was– he would have no business showing his face at a carnival the night before an 8a.m. sharp call time and a full day of combat. 

Adding onto this very good reason not to go , he still felt pretty dizzy from whatever the hell happened during the Cavalry Battle. 

He hadn’t been there for it, blanking out everything after Midoriya Izuku had said something about burning and Bakugou. As though the two words had hypnotized him, he’d immediately dissociated, only coming back when they’d been pulled apart and his knuckles were bloody and his throat was tight and Aizawa was giving him the familiar ‘ why is it always you?’ look. Though, even though he concerningly couldn't feel anything for a solid half hour following the match, Sero had enthusiastically told him the whole thing was badass. And Aoyama’s elated play-by-play of all the attacks made Shouto feel warranted in his desires to collapse into bed and sleep and sleep and sleep until he couldn’t remember the sting of his scar and how he was too much like his father for his own good .

The only reason he hadn’t done as much was a new text from said father, warning that he’d be waiting for him when he got home. And the fact that Kirishima Eijirou and his team created a new definition for the word persistent in their efforts to convince him to stay.

Growing up, Shouto hadn’t had any alpha friends– much less friends at all. Momo had been the only kid his age he was permitted to hang around with even his own siblings being off limits for a majority of his youth. With only a half semester of being around other kids under his belt, he had zero experience or expectations for what alpha friend groups were like. And it was due to this that dealing with his Cavalry Battle team’s high fiving and bro-ing was more stressful to him than the entirety of the Sports Festival so far.

He was barely starting to understand the scope of the Head Alpha position and class pack hierarchies as it was. How was he meant to learn how to dab someone up before Sero extended an arm out to him and he made a complete fool of himself? Staying throughout the Night Festival, trying and failing to make small talk with other kids his age, sounded like a special form of hell. Bed rotting was the obvious pick.

But in the end, Iida had started doing the most horrific attempt at puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen and his father had sent a second text demanding he ‘ get home now’ and then a third of ‘ SHOUTOOOO’ , and Shouto’s resolve was shattered. 

Which was how he ended up here. Pretending like there weren’t several cell-phones aimed in his direction as he accepted a takoyaki stick from a sparkling Aoyama, who was puckering up his lips and throwing up peace signs for those same several cell-phones. 

“ Ah , this hits the spot,” Sero exclaimed, waving his own stick around excitedly after inhaling two takoyakis’ in what could be considered a pretty impressive Kirby impersonation. Despite the suffocating crowd, he looks completely at ease at the small stretch of sidewalk they’d just barely managed to squeeze into. Even though they can hardly see the stage and the noisy audience is turning the Wild, Wild Pussycat’s smooth vocals into a mere murmur by the time it hits them. “Can’t believe we missed a full day of this to run around tracks and punch each other…”

For someone who's wearing the sticky sauce from his takoyaki on his face and excitedly waving around a light stick, Iida sounds entirely unconvincing when he insists, “It is an honor to compete in the tournament! Though we miss out on the festivities of the day time, our legacy on the Sports Festival arena will make up for–” 

“He was just joking, man,” Kirishima eased, throwing an arm over the Class President’s shoulders. There’s an easy smile on his face as he steers Iida’s focus back to the concert, jabbering about how he loves this song though Shouto is ninety percent sure that the redhead has never heard the song in his entire life. 

Shouto can tell because he hasn’t either. Bands like the Wild, Wild Pussycats were a distraction growing up. And so were festivities like these, other alphas his age, and takoyaki. His father wouldn’t approve. His father would say something about how this is a phenomenal waste of time.

Thinking this, Shouto is quick to take a big bite of takoyaki.

&

Don’t tell Pink-Cheeks this, but Katsuki does end up enjoying the Night Festival. A lot .

Though they end up in the worst spot for the concerts and he has to intimidate a good number of people into turning their phone away from him before he breaks it, the music is good . Mother Nature is surprisingly funny when she isn’t being a prissy princess and, though Gear Freak has a few screws loose, she isn’t as annoying as he’d expected her to be. Earphones and Pink-Cheeks also seem to be really enjoying themselves and, loathe as he wanted to admit it, their cheer always seemed to rub off on him. It was nice, for a few hours at least, to just be a group of kids at a festival, singing along off-key to the live performances, eating their fill of carnival food, and demolishing fair games. 

(There was the added factor that he was draped in Shitty Hair’s scent that melded somewhere in all that elation. But he didn’t dare think about that when Ochako and Kyouka had been giving him twin looks of a canine stalking a prey since the locker room and Mother Nature had already tested her luck by making a comment of, ‘ save some alpha for the rest of us, will you?’ ).

He swore he’d only stay for half an hour. But half an hour turns into a full hour when the Wild, Wild Pussycats bring out Blackcat as a surprise guest singer. And then that full hour turns into two when he gets frustrated at a ring-toss game and refuses to leave the tent until he wins. Two turns to four when Shiozaki makes them wait in line for a photobooth, and that snowballs into five by the time they even run into Todoroki Shouto.

Though the rest of their classmates were at the festival, they hardly ran into anyone as large as the crowds were and as big as the grounds were. And even when they had spotted Midoriya’s group or the 1-B omegas, it was easy enough to vanish behind a passing group of people and avoid confrontation. Katsuki could’ve gone the whole night without running into Shouto with ease, but it really isn’t him that does the running into.

“ Fuck! ” Katsuki yelped, dropping the cotton candy he’d been picking at as someone rams into him with the force of a clumsy bull. Staring down at that pink candy now matted with dirt– which he’d been enjoying very much – the blonde recognizes who could’ve done this to him instantly. 

Not because the slightly spiced minty scent overcomes him immediately, overpowering the aroma of everyone else around them. Not because he recognizes the feel of the alpha’s palm where he’d caught his waist before he could fall and join his dessert on the ground. Not because something clicks into place in his chest the way it does whenever the alpha is around.

No , because he knows the only one who can so easily ruin his high spirits so quickly has to be his one and only, nightmarish fated . 

“Half ‘n Half, you are going to be the first person to die by cotton candy stick,” Katsuki growled, tearing his gaze away from his fallen cotton candy to glare right into Shouto’s stupidly pretty heterochromatic eyes. Ugh . Ew .

When the idiot alpha’s response is a slight scrunch of his nose and, “You smell like Kirishima.” Katsuki starts to bend down to snatch up said stick.

“Todoroki-kun! Yaoyorozu-chan!” Ochako shouted in greeting, appearing at his side to interrupt what would’ve been a grotesque murder scene. At the sound of her name, Bakugou realizes the second presence close at Shouto’s side. And it seemed as though Yaoyorozu realized herself as well then, her face flaming as she tore her wide-eyed stare from a smirking Jirou. ( Imagine being so disgustingly obvious– Katsuki couldn’t relate). The brunette omega continued mercifully despite Yaoyorozu’s fumble, “It’s so nice to see you both! Have you two been having fun?”

Yaoyorozu takes the initiative to respond for them both when Shouto and him persist in a staring-contest-that-isn’t-a-staring-contest-unless-Katsuki-wins . “Quite,” she said, ever cordial and poised. Aside from the fact that she very obviously is trying very hard not to steal a glance at Kyouka again . Katsuki can tell this even without breaking the glaring match. By this point, everyone in their class knows that the beta can’t go five minutes without looking at the other girl. “We  should get going now, actually. We were on our way to meet back up with Sero-san and Kirishima-san at the funhouse. We split up to get more desserts and–”  

“To throw innocent people’s cotton candy into the dirt?” Katsuki interjected, eyes now feeling very dry in his efforts to keep them open. 

At the very least, Shouto seems to be struggling just as much. Heterochromatic eyes are squinting in a way that it was clearly obvious how much they burned as well. Though the alpha remarkably keeps his voice as snooty and annoying as always when he returned, “ You ? Innocent?”

Which. Fair . 

Katsuki had given Shouto an acute concussion after the Relay Race that he’d been lucky they had Recovery Girl to heal before the next round of the tournament. And that knee to the groin during their wrestling match had been anything but angelic. 

All that, and yet. “Haven’t you read the headlines? I’m a fragile doll. I’m sinless,” Katsuki insisted, tilting his head the slightest bit. 

Shouto raised an eyebrow in clear amusement, even as his own eyes started to water. “ Right , and I’m pumped up on testosterone. Maybe I threw your candy on the ground on purpose. You know, to mark my dominance.”

Katsuki smiled. Meanly , of course. “Maybe. That or you’re just a klutz who doesn’t watch where he’s going.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you–”

“Maybe we should get to the funhouse,” Momo interrupted pointedly, causing Katsuki and Shouto to blink in tandem.

At once, Shouto’s hand dropped from his waist as though burned and Katsuki took three quick steps back from whatever the hell that was . 

Since their conversation after the Relay Race– and maybe even a bit before that, after Shouto’s declaration in Midnight’s class ( after USJ, if he was being honest )- Katsuki felt at ease in his presence. Around other alpha, like Midoriya or strangers, he’d constantly have to mentally scold himself for tensing up or force his breath to steady. But with Shouto, proximity came naturally. Maybe it was an after effect of exchanging blows with each other, or some dumb fated thing, but Katsuki hadn’t felt completely relaxed being so close to an alpha that wasn’t family since even before the Battle Drill. Since before the Slime Villain, really. Shouto just–

Shouto .

What the fuck.

When had that happened?

“Maybe we could join you,” Jirou Kyouka said, intruding on his mental breakdown all the while fluttering her eyelashes so, so obviously at the beta next to Shouto. Todoroki . No, Half ‘n Half. Fuck , this was starting to give him a headache.

Why did his stupid fucking fated have to ruin everything?

“Oh– I… Oh, m-maybe,” Yaoyorozu stuttered, so obviously that Katsuki is forced to take a break from his mental collapse and share a disturbed look with the source of said mental collapse. 

Why did his stupid fucking fated look good even when cringing?

And since when did he share looks with Todoroki Shouto?

“Maybe we can stop talking like this. Oh my god, is everyone in Class 1-A this cringey?” Mother Nature blurted, looking slightly greener than normal from where she and Gear Freak had just returned from getting dango. Flipping her vines over her shoulder, she mused, “Anyway, what was this about a funhouse? Those normally have Halls of Mirrors, right? I love those.”

“No kidding? Me too,” Ochako agreed, a far-too-wide smile on her face as she threw an arm over the other omega’s shoulder. The green-haired girl looked reasonably concerned about this, given that last Katsuki checked, they were still on their ‘ still deciding if I hate you or envy you ’ phase of their friendship. But at the very least, she didn't shake her off as Ochako continued to gesture ahead. “Lead the way, Yaoyorozu-chan?” 

Ochako has to repeat herself twice before Yaoyorozu realizes she’s being spoken to and stutters out a response. All the while Kyouka twirls a strand of hair around her finger and smiles prettily. They were so, so fucking obvious.

Katsuki shares another look with Shouto.

In tandem, they share the thought of, ‘ couldn’t be me.’ 

–

@motherrnature ✓

[Picture in front of a two story colorful Funhouse. Centered in the picture, Shiozaki Ibara is looking over her shoulder and smiling prettily like a natural Instagram Pro. A few steps behind her, Jirou Kyouka and Bakugou Katsuki are flipping off the camera, Kyouka with a deadpan expression and Katsuki with his tongue out. Uraraka Ochako is holding up half a heart with a cheery smile of her own, unknowing that Hatsume Mei isn’t doing her part to complete the heart– instead holding up a thumbs up.]

how #teamomega celebrates after a cavalry battle record-breaking victory 

103.7k likes 14.1k comments 

@k.endoo You look so pretty here, Shiozaki-chan! 

@motherrnature✓ thx babe @k.endoo

@hanta.sero Bro photographer creds???? You made me take like 50000000 pics here

@motherrnature✓ u get photo creds when u learn how to fix the lighting on a picture…. @hanta.sero

@defyinguravity @bobthebuilder1 Fake asf for not completing the heart

@kais.dol Hah. Omegas. So obsessed with posting themselves. The only reason you got that “record breaking victory” was because of the overflated point system. You didn’t deserve the win.

@motherrnature✓ full stop, weren’t u the alpha begging for a response in my dms like a week ago lol @kais.dol

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@startariot

[Mirror selfie in Hall of Mirrors. In the back row, grinning Kirishima Eijirou has his arms over a neutral looking Todoroki Shouto and smiling Hanta Sero. Iida Tenya is very seriously holding up a peace sign, while Aoyama Yuuga holds up two fingers behind his head. In the front row, Bakugou Katsuki and Shiozaki Ibara are laughing at something a smirking Uraraka Ochako said. Jirou Kyouka shares a rare smile with Yaoyorozu Momo. Hatsume Mei is poking at Iida Tenya’s engine legs with clear interest.]

Siri play Clique max volume 💯💯

79.6k likes 9.8k comments 

@motherrnature✓ lol u took the one pic of kyou and kats smiling and ran w it

@startariot Pls if only we got Shou too :,D @motherrnature 

@defyinguravity I’m so funny I had all the hoes laughing

@greatexplosionmurdergod✓ start running @defyinguravity 

@john.cena11 That sweater Bakugou’s wearing looks familiar………

@defyinguravity Hagakure. @john.cena11

@shoutoswife never seen a hotter group of friends tbh

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@wildwildpussycatsofficial ✓  

[Video of the crowd at the Night Festival that pans to the band on stage. Pixis-Bob, holding the phone, is blowing kisses to the camera. Behind him, Ragdoll, Mandalay, and Tiger are all doing their signature poses]

Oh-my-MEOW the crowd was crazy at the Sports Festival this year! Wild Wild Pussycats are wishing luck and love to the amazing contenders tomorrow in the 1v1s!!!!!!! 

1.5m likes 68k comments

@ashiido.miina✓ if you squint, you can see me losing my mind in the front row

@testsu.tetsu.tetsu.tetsu My ear still hurts from ur screaming bro. @piinkmiina

@blackcatt✓ It was so fun being on stage with you guys <3

@saucyawase RECOGNIZE ME PLSPLSPLSPLS
@plasmoplanet Bro please stop embarrassing us @saucyawase

@wildwildpussycatsofficial ✓ Hello Sports Festival Contender Awase Yosetsu! Tell your friend’s nana we said hi too! @saucyawase

@plasmaplanet 😦

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@ashiido.miina ✓ 

[Selfie of Ashido Mina making a shocked face with the Wild Wild Pussycats stage as the background. Kendo Itsuka grins widely with her face pressed against hers. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Midoriya Izuku, and Monoma Neito all do the Wild Wild Pussycat signature poses behind them to varying degrees of success.]

thanks for 765k! remember to tune into my get ready with me for the SPORTS FESTIVAL FINALS on tiktok at @ashiido.miina !!!

97.5k likes 11k comments

@wildwildpussycatsofficial ✓ 😻

@ashiido.miina AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA @wildwildpussycatsofficial

@monomaneito im the only bitch serving cunt here omg im so embarrassed

@tetsu.tetsu.tetsu.tetsu Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky @monomaneito

@futureproherodeku Wow! Cool post, Mina! 🙂

@lalalisakinda Sweet sweet Midoriya Izuku they could never make me hate you with stupid baseless rumors @futuerproherodeku 

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@voguemagazine ✓ 

[The first slide is a picture of Todoroki Shouto grinning down at Bakugou Katsuki the moment they rolled over the finish line, taken from his side with white hair. With his brown eye alight with joy and his smile so warm, and the omega under him looking at him with just as much fervor, it looks more like a romcom movie poster than it does an image from the UA Sports Festival. In the second slide, Bakugou Katsuki looks stunning as he ties a gold headband around the silver one already on his forehead. Surrounded by his omegan teammates, who are waving the other silver and bronze headbands they collected excitedly, he has the slightest smile on his lips. Finally, in the last slide, blurry silhouettes are featured under a sky full of fireworks, apart from the crowd a bit beyond them.]

The first day of the Sports Festival has ended leaving the most talked about fated couple of the year victorious. Exclusive look on Head Alpha Todoroki Shouto and Head Omega Bakugou Katsuki coming soon!

1.5m likes 76k comments 

@snoopydogg ✓  iktr

@fiorefairess This man always on a random ass side quest @snoopydogg

@co.meloin Head Omega ain’t a real a thing get tf outta here with that woke bs 🤣🤣🤣

@jaidenrayez Lord have mercy. We must stay focused brothers.

@nami.ie watching fireworks with your fated at the sports festival after destroying the competition is so goals 

@shokokurama head omega is so???? i love that???

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()

In hindsight, it really wasn’t any of his business.

Bakugou had made it pretty clear early on that there was nothing between them, so if he wanted to go after the friendly, outgoing Kirishima Eijirou, who was Shouto to stand in the way? 

Despite what Mineta liked to harp or how the media portrayed it, they had no claim over each other. Just because they were fated didn’t mean they had to pursue anything with each other or be anything more to one another than that. Plenty of people found their fated and then just went on with their life like nothing happened– Fuyumi and his parents had done that. Not by choice exactly, but it wasn’t like it was impossible or uncommon. If anything at all, it was entirely natural for fated to go on to have nothing to do with one another. Maybe it wasn’t a popular choice, but it happened.

Given how incompatible a pair they made, it was better this way anyway. Never once in the past few months of knowing each other had they had a conversation that didn’t include an insult or at least twenty-five swear words in it (all courtesy of the omega, of course). The max amount of time they could spend around each other without something getting frozen or exploding was about a good forty-eight minutes ( Shouto’d timed it ). Honestly, the whole fating was probably some cosmic mistake or a horrible attempt at a joke. Really, they had been a bad idea from the start. 

And there was no maybe maybe maybe about it.

Shouto just wished someone would tell his instincts all of this.

Every time Bakugou got close– every time he got a whiff of his sweet caramel scent muddled by the scent of sweaty dog– he couldn’t help that his nose crinkled the slightest bit. He couldn’t help the growl that lodged in his throat every time he caught sight of that red jacket resting over strong shoulders out of the corner of his eyes or the bemused, carefree expression on the omega’s face whenever he was talking to Kirishima Eijirou (someone he’d just finally learned to like, dammit ). He couldn’t help the way his own scent soured slightly whenever the blonde laughed just a tad too loudly at one of the redhead’s stupid jokes (they weren’t that funny, really) or how Kirishima called him Kats so easily the way Uraraka and Jirou did ( when had they even gotten that close? ). 

Pouting and veering off apart from the group the slightest bit, he knew he was being unreasonable. Logically, he understood that Bakugou had every right to go after the charming, macho redhead, and realistically, he understood why he would with Kirishima being as handsome an alpha as he was. The sane thing to do would be to chew on a dango and bury the feelings for a later hour. Momo’s lidded looks were telling him as much, at least. 

Then again, Shouto hadn’t been feeling very sane as of recently. 

At least when he thought of Bakugou wearing Kirishima’s sweater, he was distracted from the fact that he’d spent a majority of the time in the hall of mirrors dissociating and avoiding making direct eye contact with himself– terrified of what he’d find staring back at him.

“He looks too much like him for his own good.”

Terrified of his eyes. That deep blue as suffocating as the depths of the ocean. 

“Any comments on the comparisons drawn between you and your father by netizens?”

Terrified of his hair. The red as furious as the flames he knew were there, held tight in the palm of his hands.

“You’re going to burn him, Todoroki! You’re going to turn him to ashes–”

“Are you going to buy me a new cotton candy?” Bakugou’s tone is less aggressive than it normally is as he interrupts Shouto’s quickening breaths and panicked thoughts. Gentle almost, if that was a word that could even be attributed to the blonde. 

Quickly after his words, comes his scent. Though still soured by Kirishima’s woodsy smell, the caramel reaches out to him, almost as though it were seeking. And Shouto wasn’t one to refuse a sweet treat, closing his eyes as the aroma hit him and taking the few seconds of reprieve it allowed him like a starved man. 

“Keep up! You’re going to miss the fireworks!” Uraraka called, her warning prying Shouto’s eyes back open to see where she and their group had ventured towards the large hill ahead.  

Right. That’s where they were going. To watch the firework show that was starting in a few minutes. They didn’t have the time for Shouto to be lagging behind and dragging the whole group back. 

Momo’s lidded look is clear even under the shadow of nightfall. She’ll want an explanation and Shouto doesn’t have the words to give her one. Kirishima is waving them over excitably and Shouto doesn’t think he has the patience to hold back his growls anymore. Ibara is watching them carefully and Shouto doesn’t think he can stand to see the color green out of the corner of his eyes any longer. 

But he can do this. They only have an hour of fireworks left before the night is over and it’ll be an acceptable time for him to say his goodbyes without anyone arguing. His father will probably have fallen asleep by then too, if he hadn’t already– it’s been a while since Shouto had gotten another text from him. He can do this. He can bite his tongue and hold his nose and avoid an omega that smells too much like another alpha for his own liking for an hour. He can.

“We’ll catch up!” Bakugou yelled, intercepting Shouto’s plans to keep a good ten yards distance between them from that moment onward. 

Uraraka’s squawk of outrage mirrors his surprise perfectly. When he turns to the blonde for an explanation, he finds a raised eyebrow and a curled lip that just dares him to argue. “Find us a good spot!” he continues to spat out like a threat, turning on his heels towards the food tents and ignoring the brunette omega’s shouts after him about getting lost and not being able to find each other .

Judging by the size of the forming crowd up ahead, her warnings hold a large amount of truth. If they split up now, there isn’t a chance they’ll be able to find each other in the swarm of people on that hill. Shouto makes eye contact with an exasperated Uraraka Ochako, who’s making the same look she had a month ago at USJ– when she was asking him to step in and block Mineta from the tent as the omegas scented Aizawa. 

And then he thinks of an explanation to Momo, the green of Ibara’s everything, Kirishima’s scent.

Hoping his apology is clear in the crinkle of his gaze, Shouto turns on his heels to follow Bakugou’s rapidly retreating form.

They aren’t followed. At least not by their group, who headed for the hill as originally intended without further argument. If he thought hard about it, it was probably a Head Alpha privilege to be able to ditch the group so easily, without even having to demand no one come after them. But Shouto wasn’t in the mood to think too hard about much of anything with Bakugou Katsuki a few steps ahead of him, leading them far from the crowds and the hill and their classmates who have probably found a good spot by now, squashed like sardines.

When Bakugou finally does speak, there isn’t a cotton candy machine in sight. “Your shoes are ugly. Who wears silver Nikes?”

The insult comes from so far out of left field, Shouto snorted. Soft tone and sweet scent aside, Bakugou was still Bakugou. Couldn’t go a single conversation with him without spouting out an insult at some point. It was almost as though it was compulsive for the blonde– maybe a genetic defect from having fashion designers as parents. 

“What do you want, Bakugou?” he eventually responded. Because his shoes were fine , really. Everyone in Class 1-A knew about the omegas’ aversion to silver, but he hadn’t commented on the shoes the entire day and it wasn’t as though Shouto just put them on. Either way, the omega didn’t lead them far from their group to give him fashion advice when he could’ve just as happily ( probably happier ) insulted him in front of a whole crowd of onlookers.

Bakugou was fishing. For what and why, the alpha wasn’t sure, but even without the omega having turned around or stopped walking, he knew the expression he’d be making.

Lips pressed together slightly. Eyebrows drawn together. Nose cutely scrunched.

“You looked annoyed,” Bakugou eventually admitted, legs slowing to a stop. Shouto is seconds away from asking how that’s any of his business ( because if jacket business wasn’t his business, then emotions business wasn’t the blondes either– it was fair, not childish, thank you much ), when the omega continued, crossing his arms over his chest, “Earlier in the tunnel– you…” 

It takes the alpha a second to catch onto what he’s failing to say. Both because of the fact that Shouto doesn’t think he’s ever seen the blonde say something without blurting it from the chest and because of the absurdity of it all. 

Bakugou Katsuki was trying to comfort him. 

The world had turned upside down and Shouto had to fight to keep his lips from twitching upwards. 

“Right,” Shouto said, because Bakugou was starting to appear greener than his omega friend that hung out with them earlier. The blonde’s shoulders sag slightly with relief over the fact that he doesn’t have to admit to the crime of trying to do something nice for his fated and the alpha loses the fight with his smile. “And your idea of doing this was taking me to buy you cotton candy and insulting my shoes?”

“Sorry I’m not a comforting omega, if that’s what you were looking for,” Bakugou shot back, spinning on his heels to expose his pinkened face. His finger is shoved threateningly into Shouto’s chest the same way a knife would be. Though, Shouto’s half certain he’d be safer with a blade pressed against his skin than he is those fingers– knowing the power packed within those svelte digits intimately at this point. 

Yet even with a nuclear weapon so close, the alpha couldn’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of the comment.

A comforting, docile omega? Someone who would rub his shoulders and nuzzle his side? Someone who would lower their gaze in submission and please his father? 

“It’s not,” Shouto said, certain. 

Bakugou’s cheeks don’t lose any of their redness, but his hand does slowly drop down to his side. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked, matching Shouto’s eyes with his usual ferocity. 

For a moment, Shouto lets himself be consumed by the familiarity of the red gaze and really considers it. Opening his mouth and letting everything unsaid between them pour out into the opening for them to sink or swim in the wake of it all.

He thinks about telling him about that night, several years ago. His mother’s broken expression as she poured boiling water on his face. His father’s insistence that he start training again the second he got out of the hospital, before his injuries were even unwrapped. Of Midoriya’s comments. Of his father’s quirk– a genetic curse, burning beneath his skin like a parasyte. About how much that sweater hanging off the blonde’s shoulders is bothering him, how he misses his sweet scent even though they’re standing right next to each other. Of all the maybe, maybe, maybe moments he’s had since they’ve met.

In the end, what comes out of his mouth is a short, “It’s nothing.”

Bakugou’s gaze hardened instantly at the obvious lie. Alongside silver, there’s nothing the blonde hated more than people who didn’t live up to their words and Shouto’s had felt sticky on his tongue– an obvious lie to anyone with ears. There’s another insult incoming, but the omega just barely opens his mouth when an explosion above and the awed exclamations of the crowd interrupts their standoff.

Shouto has only a mere second to be relieved he doesn’t have to hear whatever creative swear he came up with this time when the lights of the firework show hit the omega’s face at just the right angle and the breath is seized from his lungs.

A kaleidoscope of colors erupts above them–bright reds and dark blues colliding together and battling for dominance, highlighted by purples and oranges and everything in between. Bakgou wears each color like it was made specifically for him, even bright yellows that no one has business being seen in. In the reflection of his gaze, Shouto sees how impressive the show above it, and still, he can’t tear his gaze away for even a peek of it. Not even the largest or the loudest of the explosions above could compete with sight before him.

“You’re pretty.” 

It escaped his lips before he could think about it and realize who exactly he was saying such a thing to. Model Bakugou Katsuki didn’t need to hear that he was pretty. Bakugou Katsuki who didn’t have a single bad picture on the internet ( Shouto had looked ) didn’t need to hear he was pretty. Bakugou Katsuki wearing Kirishima Eijirou’s sweater over his shoulders didn’t need to hear it from him .

Bakugou’s gaze tears from the light show, wide and disbelieving. When he spoke, the strange softness that can’t be attributed to him is back. “What did you say?”

“I said your jacket’s shitty,” Shouto blurted, turning his back on the blonde to start their trek back to the group. Both of them know there’s no way to find the rest of them on that hill. It’s just as Uraraka said– too crowded to find one another. And yet, knowing this and knowing Bakugou knows this, he still says, “Let’s get back to the group.”

He doesn’t turn, so he doesn’t realize Bakugou had caught up with his quick steps until the omega shoulders him slightly. And even then, he refuses to look for fear of what he might slip up and say next, as the omega agreed with a quick, “Okay.”

But then Bakugou Katsuki makes him look when he races a bit ahead and calls over his shoulder, “Next time, just give me yours, dumbass!”

Shouto doesn’t even bother trying to fight this smile.

Chapter Text

"

Tightening a golden headband around her forehead– which read UA Sports Festival Finalist in thick, proud lettering– Ashido Mina squinted at the phone screen in front of her. Thirty-six thousand people were currently watching her Get Ready With Me , which was around thirty-thousand-five-hundred-and-ninety-four more people than usual. Such a jump in viewership would probably be intimidating to anyone else, but this was the same alpha who asked an omega five-years-her-senior out in front of her entire junior high class and didn’t understand the concept of social anxiety. Under the new attention, Mina was thriving .

Giggling at a comment that said as much, she winked at the camera. “Sorry girls, no skin care routine here. I just drink a lot of water and glow naturally. Maybe it’s the skin tone,” she said, knotting the headband into a bow behind her head. Glancing at the comment section as she did so, she scoffed at another comment. “Worried about the matchups? Me? No. I’m not concerned at all about going up against Iida-san at all.”

UA had dropped the Sports Festival Finals matchups at 4:42a.m. that morning, around an hour before Mina woke up. To her, there wasn’t anything surprising about how everyone was split up. Each year the finalists were separated in duos, that’s just how it always went. Though, judging by the new flood of comments and the sudden spike in her viewership, the rest of the internet unsurprisingly had other opinions.

Slanting her eyes off to the side in mild annoyance, Mina tried her hardest not to puff out her cheeks the way she tended to when something really aggravated her. It wasn’t a cute look and definitely not something she wanted some idiot online to screenshot to turn into a meme. Yet, even knowing this, it was hard to hold back her knee jerk reaction knowing what everyone was beginning to argue about in her comment section.

Ugh . Omegas really did have to go and muddle up everything this year, didn’t they?

“This is the first year U.A. is dealing with so many omegas in the finals,” Mina started, slowly, eyes glued to her comment section. Yesterday, Nezu had advised them to watch their words and keep their opinions to themselves with how publicized this Sports Festival was becoming. But the pink-skinned alpha had never been very good at clamping her mouth and shutting up, honestly. “I mean, really, what did you guys expect them to do? Before, there’s only ever been one omega in the finals, and they fought a beta and lost in their first match. If anything, U.A. is being fair to them.”

It wasn’t like she was lying or anything. U.A. pairing the omegas with other omegas or betas was almost an advantage for them. Now, they may even be able to make it past the first and second round of the matchups the way no other omega had been able to do in the past. If she was being really honest, she’d admit it was a bit irritating that U.A. as giving the omegas a leg up when they should’ve just had the possibility to go up against the tough Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto like the rest of the beta and alpha, but whatever . U.A. was just trying to protect the omegas from getting hurt and making sure the rest of the alpha, who weren’t as quick to rate their fists E for everyone the way Todoroki Shouto was, weren’t uncomfortable fighting someone from the silver dynamic.

Mina didn’t think it would come to it, figuring the betas would beat out the omegas before U.A. gave them the chance to go against an alpha, but she wasn’t even certain how she’d react if she had to fight one of them. All her life, she’d been taught to be gentler with her siblings of the silver dynamic and hold the door open for passing omegas on the street. How was she meant to turn around and hurl acid at one?

Seeing that the majority of people agreed with her, the girl smiled pleasantly. There was a comment every now and then about omega injustice or whatever, but they were easy enough to skim and skip to find another asking her if she was single or telling her how pretty her hair was. Spirits rising, she was mildly stumped when she read aloud a random question in the midst of it all, “What about the censored audio during the Cavalry Battle? What censored audio? What are you talking about?”

Confused, she tilted her head, seeing a couple more comments pop up about the subject, but then a sweet wild strawberry scent hit her nose and she hurriedly blew her kisses goodbyes to the live. She just barely managed to hit the end button when the source of the scent rushed through her doors and lurched herself into Mina’s ready arms.

“ Yui – what have I told you about knocking?!” Mina demanded, like a rightfully disrespected older sister, even as she returned the younger girl’s embrace with just as much fervor. No matter how many times she told her siblings to keep out of her room, it didn’t matter to the second-oldest, who always tended to get away with the most– even as a middle child. Omegas . Seriously.

As though reading her thoughts, Yui punched her in the shoulder, pouting up at her. “I was tired of listening to you yap to your followers. We’re all waiting for you downstairs to leave! Come on!” she insisted, her strawberry scent souring the slightest bit. 

Mina scrunched her nose at the smell, shoving the younger girl off of her to oblige with her demands. “ Sorry I have obligations to fulfill as an influencer,” she said with total mock sincerity. The strawberries sour even more at the tone, but then sweeten once more when the alpha ruffles her hair, goodnaturedly. Smiling, a welling of pride burst within Mina’s chest as she continued to muse, “You’re so excited to watch your older sister destroy all her opps today, aren’t you?”

Yui shoved her hand out of her hair with the familiar sibling roughness, but giggled and didn’t deny the claim. Knowing she was building up her families’ reputation with this tournament had been an exciting factor for Mina from the start. Coming from a suburban, run-of-the-mill pack, the Ashidos had never really stood out. Her mother had always claimed it’d be her to one day change this, as big as her dreams had always been– and now living that truth, things just couldn’t feel more right than they did now. Being the pride and joy of her family, the apple of her baby siblings eyes, the reason her little sister was so excited today–

“Today you have to get me Bakugou’s autograph! Promise!” Yui interrupted her sister’s mental spiel, with possibly even more enthusiasm than before. Mina’s brain buffered as she took in the little girl's words and the glow that lit up the entirety of her face. “He’s so cool! All my friends are talking about him– they’re jealous that I have a sister who’s so close to him, in his class!”

Close?

Mina was 99.9% sure Bakugou wasn’t close to anyone in their class besides the other omegas. And if he had a list of the people he most hated, she would probably top it alongside Midoriya Izuku and Mineta Minoru.

And yet, staring into her sister’s adorably crescented, big eyes— knowing how ripe and big her scent had gotten as she talked about the blonde, Mina couldn’t find it in herself to say as much. Tongue tied, she choked out a slow, “... Right .”

Her little sister squeals and proceeds to go into a rant about how cool Bakugou Katsuki is and how inspired she is by him that lasts the whole car ride to the stadium.

Mina has to bite her lip to keep from trampling on that enthusiasm by making a snide remark about the leg up he’d been given in the finals and how strange he was and how he was no role model for someone like her.

Ugh. 

Omegas were ruining the Sports Festival .

:

As one of the most neutral teachers at UA ( which was the nicer way of saying teacher who gave the least fucks ), Aizawa Shouta had always been the top choice when it came to commentators for the Finals. 

Other teachers were PR nightmares when it came to this type of thing (Cementos had nearly lost his job the one year he made fun of a betas’ “omega like build” before a global audience and Midnight had been canceled for an entire year after saying the winner wasn’t “hot enough”) and Present Mic was too unserious to be trusted to take the job on his own (repeatedly shouting “he need some milk!” to fainted students didn’t make for world-renowned commentary UA was looking for). Compared to this, he had always been trusted to comment objectively on the fight, give helpful pointers for the hero hopefuls watching, and not overreact to whoever won or lost each match. Some said it was a little bland, how he just stated the facts and nothing more, but he was working his wage. It wasn’t like he was being paid extra for commentating on the Sports Festival, so if anyone wanted extra from him, they’d better open their pockets and provide.

Normally, he was paired with Present Mic, who spiced up his style of commenting enough to keep the audience sated. Over the years, they’d managed a disgruntled partnership where the alpha would reel in the jokes when they were going too far and the beta would interrupt his ‘boring’ analysis with over-the-top reactions and ridiculous comments. Together, though he loathed to admit it, they had made a pretty good team. Which made it difficult for him to convince Nezu to please, for the love of God, stop pairing me with that idiot.

Every year, Aizawa would dread being stuck in the too tight room with the man, who wouldn’t know how to shut up if someone handed him a manual on the subject. For the full two-day stretch of the finals, he’d feel the walls closing in on him as the beta’s too loud voice told the same joke for the seventeenth time in a row. It was a torture specifically made for him, and he couldn’t figure out what he’d done to deserve such harsh punishment. At night, he’d pray for Present Mic to mysteriously become sick around the time of the Sports Festival or decide to quit hosting the subject altogether– anything to save him from having to deal with the man for those two days. Anything .

Aizawa had never been very careful with what he wished for. And the day he opened the door of that little room reserved for the commentators to find Toshinori Yagi was the day he realized the consequences of doing so.

With his hands clasped before him as though in prayer, Principal Nezu stood beside the larger-than-life man. There’s an apologetic gleam in his dark eyes as the blond stepped in front of him with his too-wide smile to stretch out a hand. “Looks like we’re paired together this year. What a surprise, huh?” he asked, the ‘ for you’ going unsaid between them. Confidence radiating off of the man, All Might was probably the first person to hear of this news, if not the person who orchestrated the whole thing. 

As he took the hand, with a grip just tight enough to expose his irritation, Aizawa forced himself to nod back to the greeting. But when All Might squeezed back just as tight, he couldn’t help from gritting out, “I hope you know you won’t be able to pull off your little ‘rule-changes’ in here, Toshinori. I’m not the Sports Festival donors. ”

All Might’s smile stiffened for half a second before he raised an eyebrow. Still, he doesn’t release Aizawa’s hand even as he claims, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Aizawa-san.” And yet, his cedarwood scent becomes thicker in the air between them, threatening. A clear admission of guilt as far as Aizawa was concerned.

Before he can release the growl building up in his throat, Nezu intervenes, stepping between them and forcing their steadily tightening grip matchoff to break. “Because of how popular this Sports Festival has become out of the country, the board decided to invite All Might to commentate with you this year, Aizawa- san ,” the principal explained, sounding almost apologetic. “He’s well known in North and South America for his time there and globally recognized as Japan’s Number One hero.”

All this, Aizawa knew. As a reasonable man, he could understand the logic if he tilted his head and squinted a bit. All Might was a more recognizable name than he and Present Mic combined, who both worked mostly underground when they were active. As the unreasonable alpha he was, however, he couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck in a room with the blond bastard just to win over some American fanboys. Aizawa had always worked his wage, and this went far beyond what he was willing to do for this job.

Sensing the two-weeks notice brewing on Aizawa’s tongue, Nezu held up a hand and hurriedly continued, “Originally, the set up was going to be All Might and Cementos.” In other words, originally , the U.A. Sports Festival Commentary was supposed to be an alpha supremacist podcast. Inwardly, Aizawa began to curse, knowing where this was going. “I specifically asked for you to replace one of them, with how much experience you have in the past working with someone on this job.” In other words , you could reel in Present Mic– you can reel in All Might. 

A year ago, this would have meant nothing to Aizawa. Even knowing that he was the only one standing in the way of the Sports Festival official commentators undermining all of the omega’s performances and feeding into the narrative of one of their alpha students being an abuser for the crime of taking an omega seriously, he still would’ve quit. Dealing with Present Mic was one thing– the man was annoying, but he was mostly harmless. All students were joked about equally, no matter their dynamic, and he never made any extreme political comments mid-stream. Plus, he was a beta, without a harsh scent to grate at Aizawa’s gears. Meanwhile, working with All Might would mean rushing to save U.A. from a public scandal every other word and leaving the grounds with a headache every night. To old Aizawa, this wouldn’t be worth the trouble. 

Last night, Aizawa had read a headline that compared Todoroki Shouto to Overhaul and called Bakugou Katsuki a harlot. Since the Sports Festival started, the media had torn them to shreds with rumors and biased speculation. Both were showing out as the greatest performance this event had ever seen, and that was overshadowed by global ridicule and criticism over dynamics and fatings and things entirely out of their control.

They were just kids . Powerful kids who deserved the respect and admiration of the world and a fair commentary. Powerful kids that didn’t deserve what All Might would say about them if he was on the mic alone to comment on their battles. 

Facing the other Pro, Aizawa’s mouth moved on its own. “I look forward to working with you, Toshinori,” he said, with the least amount of enthusiasm possible.

Seeming to get the message, the blond nodded, smile seeming to grow tighter. “You as well.”

Principal Nezu’s sighed heavily.

^.^

Uraraka Ochako’s initial fight is set at noon, three hours after the Sports Festival starts.

Against Bakugou Katsuki.

“Are you nervous?” Shiozaki asked, squeezing in between her and Sero Hanta. At some point the night before-- in between splitting dango and taking selfies in the funhouse mirror-- the green-haired girl had come to see Ochako as an ally rather than the gunk stuck to the bottom of her Miu Miu heels. The brunette was still deciding how she felt about it, but since a bucket of popcorn was being offered up between them as a peace treaty of sorts, she decided to let bygones be bygones for the moment, at least. 

Taking a handful, Ochako truly thought about it for the first time that morning since she read her name listed next to the blonde’s, at five a.m., still battling the pull of slumber.