Chapter Text
Shadows twisted at the edge of the clearing. Izuku kept watch of them, trying to pick out forms of invaders within.
The rain fell in heavy sheets against the woven overhang above him. While it protected him from the worst of the storm, the wind still flicked water onto his face, into his eyes. He blinked it away, stilled as the shadows rose nearby.
He held his breath and grasped the bone hilt of his sword, drawing it an inch from the leather sheath at his hip. His body coiled, feet planted under him, readying to leap forward, to strike quickly. A growl threatened to rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down, keeping an eye on the shadow.
It had fully revealed itself to be a tall figure, someone stooped against the rain, quickly approaching the village. Izuku allowed himself to glance up toward the trees, where small platforms sat, serving as lookout posts. Why hadn’t someone raised an alarm yet? It was difficult to see in the rain; perhaps they hadn’t noticed.
Which left the defense of the village up to him. Izuku let his growl slide between his teeth, just as he slid his sword free. It was about as long as his forearm, light enough to be flicked through the air, sturdy enough to break the smaller bones within a person’s hand, wrist, and collar, thin enough to slip between ribs. He’d never had to kill someone before. But if needed, he would.
Focused as he was ahead, he didn’t miss the quiet footfalls of someone behind him. He flared his nostrils and picked up their scent – biting snow and smoldering charcoal. Shoto.
Of all the warriors in their village, Izuku was grateful it was Shoto who knelt next to him, focused ahead just as Izuku was. They didn’t need to say anything to each other. Shoto knew just from the growl on the omega’s lips, the sword in his hand, that there was trouble. He was ready, as he always was, but he hadn’t been there but a few heartbeats before he suddenly relaxed and stood.
“It’s Touya,” he said, and Izuku squinted.
Through the rain, it was hard to pick out, but as he grew closer, Izuku recognized the shock of white hair and icy blue eyes. Even through the rain, those blue eyes cut through the haze, landing on Shoto first, then Izuku.
Izuku studied his expression as Touya broke through the last veil of underbrush and stepped into the village clearing. “He seems relaxed,” Izuku commented, slipping his sword back into its sheath.
Shoto said nothing, but he didn’t tense as his brother approached.
Even in the dark of night, Shoto’s face was distinct, one eye ice blue, the other a smooth gray, a scar covering the right side of his face. Side by side, Izuku stood just about the same height as the alpha, though where Izuku was lean, Shoto was steady. Where Izuku had had to learn how to fight with traditional weapons, had learned how to move swiftly and strike suddenly, Shoto’s blessings lent him more to standing steady, holding his position and letting his flames and ice end a fight quickly. There was a stark difference between them, but all things considered, Izuku was more than a little proud to match up as well to the alpha’s stature as he did.
Touya ducked under the awning, grumbling and shaking rain from his coat.
“Hate the damn rain,” the other alpha growled, shaking his hands out. Izuku leaned away from him and he grinned deeply. “Evening, shula. What’re you still doing up?”
“Report,” he said. “Did you see anything?”
“So down to business,” Touya laughed as he brushed water from his coat.
Where Shoto was sturdy, Touya was thin, whip-like, built more like Izuku’s sword. He also differed from his brother in that he had only inherited the fire blessing from their father. With just a flick of his wrist, he could summon fires powerful enough to incinerate an entire forest. But it came at a steep price. Touya’s arms were mottled by scars from his own flames, which burned so hot he often hurt himself. Nowadays, he wore special bindings along his arms that kept his flames at bay, kept them from harming him. Izuku had gifted him those bindings only a few years previous. He’d discovered that a clan over the ridge had a blessed with the ability to weave coldness into threads, and he’d requested her make something for Touya.
Touya had shown his gratitude in strange ways, but over the years, Izuku had come to realize that the alpha’s loyalty to him was not just because of who he was – shula – but that he had proven himself that day. Even if he could be a little abrasive at times, Izuku was happy to know he had been the one out scouting for trouble.
Once Touya had cleaned as much water off of himself as he could, he faced Izuku. His grin had faded to a smirk, which was about as serious as he ever got. “Nothing to report. All’s quiet. The storm’s not helping the search any, but as far as I could tell, there was nothing to find out there.”
Izuku should have felt happy at the news, relieved even. Instead, he turned his attention back to the shadows, searching them as if he might see what he feared marching right through the forest.
“Hey this is good news!” Touya put his hands on his hips. “Looks like that rogue sighting was false after all. Village is nice and safe and ready for the Moon.”
“You admitted yourself it was hard to tell anything in the rain,” Shoto deadpanned, which had Touya shrugging.
“This works out well for us. If anything is out there, it won’t be able to avoid the mud. It’ll leave tracks. So best not to worry about it right now. We’ll see what happens in the morning.”
Izuku wasn’t so convinced. He kept searching the shadows until Shoto touched his arm. “Izuku?”
He sighed, and let his gaze turn to the brothers. “Dry off. You did well tonight. Get some rest.”
Touya chuckled. “You’re a blessing, shula. Don’t worry yourself too much. We’ll be back out in the morning, checking things over.”
“I know,” he muttered, but it still didn’t make him feel better.
Touya hesitated, his expression cooling. He reached forward and ruffled Izuku’s hair, an affectionate sort of gesture, especially from Touya. “Get some rest yourself, all right?” He lingered a moment longer before ducking back into the rain and heading off toward his family’s dwelling.
As he slipped into the dark of the storm, Shoto again took Izuku by the arm. “I’ll keep watch for tonight. You trust me to do that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Izuku eyed him suspiciously, knowing what was coming next.
Still, Shoto wasn’t ever one to back down to him, “Then leave it to me. Go rest. The pack needs you.”
The pack needs you.
The reminder stung. Of course Izuku knew the pack needed him. That was why he’d been out there, keeping watch, making sure they could sleep soundly despite the danger lurking just outside their borders. But that wasn’t what Shoto meant when he said it, not what most people meant when they said it.
The pack needed him to keep them steady, to keep them calm. He was their center, their heart, their shula – their aeon omega. He was the son of the pack alpha’s mate, the only male omega in the pack. He held a very special position. But it was also so very precarious. Izuku wanted to help his pack. He loved his pack dearly. He felt the same compulsion to watch over them that they felt to watch over him.
But it wasn’t equal. The pack needed him. Their needs far outweighed Izuku’s. If the pack needed him, he would be there, watching over them. Rest be damned, he would be there.
And yet, he also knew that if he didn’t rest, the pack would sense his exhaustion, that everyone would feel the restlessness that always welled up inside of him. He had to keep calm, healthy, even if just in image.
The pack needed him.
Izuku knew that all too well.
And it was for that reason that he conceded. “Fine. I’ll get some rest.”
Shoto nodded, and took up the post Izuku had held. He whispered something that may have been ‘good night’ but Izuku didn’t catch it over the sounds of the storm.
Instead, he turned to the building he had been protecting. The pack’s communal nest. Every night, any number of the pack gathered in that building to curl up together, to rest, to sleep. On nights like that one, full of storms and rain, the pack liked to cluster together, even more so when Izuku had announced he would be spending the night in the communal nest as well. So many of his pack were housed in those walls, tucked away, sleeping, knowing they were safe from the shadows beyond the clearing.
A lump formed in Izuku’s throat as he approached the entrance. While the building itself was made of sturdy wooden planks on a raised platform to keep the mud and bugs out, the entrance was a simple heavy cloth that was weighed at the bottom. An extra woven sheet of branches had been leaned over the entrance to help protect it from the storm, which Izuku ducked under before slipping through the cloth and stepping into the communal nest.
Several pairs of eyes darted toward him in the dark. They each gave off a slight glow, reflecting the little light that seeped in from outside. Alphas. Only alphas had eyes that lit in the dark, beacons to welcome in their kin or warn away those who were not. Within that nest, all the alphas knew Izuku, and Izuku knew them in return. When their eyes landed on him, he felt a sudden release of pressure, knowing that had anything happened, these alphas would have acted to protect the others in the nest.
“Shula,” a low voice greeted him at his elbow. Someone was sitting right next to the entrance, despite the fact it was drafty and wet. Izuku flared his nostrils to pick up their scent, recognizing the coppery taste as Tenya.
Once he realized who was sitting there, he wasn’t surprised. Like himself, like Shoto, like Touya, Tenya had an innate dedication to the clan. Of all those gathered in the nest, Tenya would always be one of the first to stand up, to protect the pack. He and his family built one of the main three pillars of their pack, Shoto and his family built the second, and in the center, holding up the entire pack, was the Yagi family. Izuku’s family.
Just as he had been relieved to see Shoto and Touya, Izuku relaxed upon seeing Tenya. He answered the alpha with a short purr, an acknowledgment of his service to the pack. Tenya rose, no doubt to offer Izuku assistance, but Izuku waved him back, slipping his belt and sheathed sword off and handing it to the alpha. Tenya tucked the sword amongst some furs next to him and settled as Izuku stepped into the nest.
The entire one-room building was open, the floorspace left empty during the day and filled with cushions and blankets and bodies during the night. That night, many of the pack were huddled together, betas and omegas and pups taking up the center of the floor while the alphas and some betas took vigil around the edges. The ceiling was low, the atmosphere cluttered in a cozy sort of way. In the dark, it was difficult to see, but Izuku could just make out the space in the very center of the pile, where a gray-white coat sat. A couple of pups had tangled into the coat in his absence, and he left it to them, burrowing amongst the nest, taking his place at its center. The pack breathed around him, giving him space to rejoin them. And once he had settled, they pressed in around him, slotting him in like a missing puzzle piece. Izuku purred to the pack, heard a murmur of replies, and shut his eyes.
Above him, the storm howled. He kept listening, waiting to pick up the sounds of an alarm amongst the rain and the wind, but it never came.
- - -
The storm passed and the morning came, rain dripping outside like a child tapping on the wall, sunlight seeping into the building and waking the pack one by one. Nestled as he was between so many of his packmates, Izuku was among the last to stir. He shifted, at first curling inward more, hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep. He was still exhausted from the night before and if he’d been in his private nest, alone, he would have allowed himself just a bit more rest. But as the pack shifted, he shifted with them, and sighed once before opening his eyes to the morning light.
He sat up and was almost immediately greeted by a mix of purrs and hums and growls and whispers. He replied with a yawn, running a hand over his shoulder, searching for his coat. When his fingers found nothing, he paused, blinked in confusion, only to find that a small omega woman was holding it up to him.
“Seems my pups stole this during the night,” she was smiling, “apologies, shula.”
“It’s fine. I let them borrow it,” Izuku replied, but when the woman handed it back, he immediately slipped the coat back on.
It was a coat of down feathers taken from the abandoned nests of rock eagles, who built homes for their young on the treacherous cliffsides of the ridges, a two-days’ walk from the village. The feathers had been gifted to him over time by the alphas, and a few betas, of the village, first when he had been born, then more and more as he grew to maturity. Now, he was adorned with a full coat, carefully stitched and woven together by the best in the village. It hung long down his front, draping nearly to his knees, and spilled down his back, trailing down to the ground and as he stood, feathered tassels flaring around him and clay beads clacked loudly as they struck the ground, rustling when he stepped forward. A mane of feathers gathered just at his shoulders and between his shoulder blades, a hood that could be drawn up against the cold or under the harshest of the sun’s rays. The rock eagle feathers that covered the coat were mostly gray-white, like clouds pinned between threads of colorful beads. Most of the beads were the simple red-brown of the clay they were molded from, but nearly one hundred seventy beads were painted in a dizzying array of colors and designs. One bead for each member of his pack. Each unique in their own way. A few had been painstakingly removed, others added. Those removed hung from a leather string at Izuku’s neck, tucked safely under the simple cotton tunic he always wore when sleeping in the communal test, matched by a pair of cotton pants.
Izuku grimaced down at himself. He needed to change then go see his father. There were still preparations to be seen for the week ahead and he’d be expected to attend to the pack before supper. Not to mention, Izuku was anxious to hear about any follow up reports about the rogue sighting from earlier in the week. Scouts would be out already, searching the area, but who knew when they would be back. Overall, it was going to be a long day.
Sighing, Izuku turned to help the others clean up the room. As the pack roused, a quiet murmur of voices rose as mates and pups and friends whispered good mornings to one another, or spoke of dreams, or shuddered over nightmares. Everyone worked to clean the hall, to gather up the piled blankets and cushions and replace them into the cubbies built into the walls, to sweep away gathered dirt and dust. Only when the last pillow had been tucked into place, the floor had been shined, and the last of his pack had left, did Izuku glance around the communal nest, satisfied.
The nest was ready for the next night, when the pillows and blankets and cushions would be pulled out again and thrown together for the pack to cuddle within.
Once Izuku said good morning to everyone and he’d checked the empty nest to be sure it was ready for the next night, he picked up his sword from Tenya, and ducked through the heavy cloth that hung over the entrance. Just outside, Shoto was sitting right where Izuku had left him the night before. The shadows that had made Izuku’s neck prickle only hours before were gone, vanquished by the day. All around them, the village was rumbling as people rose and the clearing was bright and happy, as it always was.
When Izuku approached him, Shoto glanced up. “Good morning.”
Groaning, Izuku collapsed and leaned heavily against him. Shoto held steady under his weight. Izuku could feel a smile pulling at the alpha’s lips.
“Did you sleep?” He asked.
Izuku wrinkled his nose. “I did. I never sleep very well in the communal nest.”
“I know,” Shoto replied.
When Izuku glanced up at him, he noticed the shadows under the alpha’s eyes. He’d stayed and kept watch, just as he’d promised he would. And now that the morning had come, Izuku could tell the night was wearing on him. The shadows he had been watching had pressed themselves into the folds of his skin, waiting for when he dared to close his eyes before rising to claim the night.
Izuku had had a nightmare like that, years ago.
He stood and held out his hands. “C’mon. The nest is empty now.” Shoto took his hands and let Izuku pull him to his feet. “Join me for our morning meal?”
“Of course,” Shoto said, as would be expected. Expected or not, Izuku could tell he was grateful for the invite; it meant he wouldn’t have to face his father quite yet. As far as Izuku knew, they were still upset with one another, though he hadn’t gotten the reason why this time.
Their pack village lay in the very center of their clan territory, situated in a wide field surrounded by guardian trees which could be climbed and used to observe the immediate area. A small stream, flowing off from the main river, gurgled quietly on the village’s eastern edge. People were already moving toward the stream, carrying buckets to collect water for the day. Others were moving between the collection of wooden structures at the center of the village, those more permanent markers of their pack, while others sat outside the smaller dwellings surrounding the village center. These smaller burrows were built from a variety of materials, from stretched hide to woven branches to sturdier wood like the main buildings.
Without thinking, Izuku moved toward his own dwelling, which housed his private nest. It was smaller than some of the others, but he enjoyed the more intimate closeness of the walls. He’d built it himself by weaving the hearty branches of the local trees, just as his father had taught him. A heavy beaded curtain hung over the entrance, marking it as the aeon omega’s nest. Not that anyone in the village didn’t know who resided there.
Nobody was waiting outside, hoping to see him. He let loose a little sigh of relief at the sight. Shoto waited outside as he slipped in to change, exchanging his sleeping tunic for a more elaborate, woven shirt. Over that, he wore his coat, as always. Someone had put a bowl of water just inside, which he used to clean his hands and his face before rejoining Shoto and starting for the central pavilion, where the pack was already gathering for the morning meal.
As Izuku and Shoto neared, Izuku took notice of those around them. Mothers and fathers guiding cheerful pups. Young gaggles of omegas and betas whispering excitedly together. A few lone alphas, or a pair of alphas, absently glancing toward the village’s perimeter or laughing amongst themselves. Elders who walked with the help of younger relatives or canes.
It was a typical sight, but Izuku still took it all in, counted out his pack, one by one, until he had accounted for most of whom he expected to see. As he saw each of his pack, he relaxed just a bit more, steadied by their presence, warmed with the fact that all was well.
Shoto parted the woven curtain that draped over the entrance to the village’s main pavilion, letting Izuku duck inside. This building, like the communal nest, was built on a raised platform to keep out dirt and water, but unlike the nest, its roof was vaulted high above them, an intricate latticework of thick trunks holding up a woven roof, the walls built of carefully carved planks. At the very center of the building, the raised floor was open for a huge firepit, the smoke left to waft up toward an opening like an eye in the ceiling. That morning, the fire was low, cautious. It wasn’t too cold out, so there was no use for a larger fire. A thin whisp of smoke trailed lazily through the air, making everything smell like fresh oak leaves.
Most of the space was empty, scattered with small groups of people huddled together on grass mats, sharing bowls between each other. On the far end, there was a second raised platform, upon which sat a low table, a heated stone placed at its center. Two figures were seated together at the table, heads tilted together to speak. A third packmate sat before the stone, using it to cook eggs and a variety of vegetables.
When Izuku and Shoto approached, the three looked up, and smiled.
“Shula,” the cook greeted with a bow of his head. Izuku bowed his head back in response and the cook, a young beta by the name of Soren, smiled rather enthusiastically.
“Good morning, dear. And good morning, Shoto,” his mother rose to greet them. Her green hair was pulled back from her face by a bright blue string, the same color which was threaded through the cotton coat she wore. It draped over her short but firm frame, long billowing sleeves lifting as his mother stepped forward to hug Izuku. She was warm when she hugged him, as she always was, and Izuku purred happily when held by her.
“Good morning, Mother Inko,” Shoto greeted with a bow of his head.
Inko waved his formality away, as she always did, and hugged him around the middle as well.
As she did, Izuku joined his father at the table. The first thing he did, as he did every morning, was glance over his father. His father had been a strong man, once. But time had not been kind to him. It had worn him down, away, whittled him to hardly anything but bones. Despite his frail state, his father always smiled when he saw Izuku, his blue eyes sparkling brightly. Izuku took strength from that, from the fact that even as his body withered, his father’s spirit remained strong.
“How are you this morning, my boy?” Just as Izuku examined his father first, his father glanced him over. “You look tired.”
Izuku offered a smile. “I’m fine, thanks. Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough.” He waited as Inko and Shoto joined them. “Good morning to you as well, young Shoto.”
“Good morning, Alpha Toshinori,” Shoto placed his palms flat on the ground and bowed low to the pack’s alpha. “May I join you for morning meal?”
“You’re always welcome,” Toshinori chuckled and gestured for Shoto to rise, which he did, taking the spot next to Izuku.
Inko glanced between Izuku and Shoto excitedly and cleared her throat. “So, dear,” she started, and Izuku’s stomach sank even as he smiled in response, “any chance you’ve made a decision on your official courting season?”
“Inko,” Toshinori muttered, but Inko didn’t seem to hear.
Shoto politely turned his attention to Soren, asking the beta for a mug to fetch water, as Izuku did his best to laugh it off.
“You already know that I’m not ready to announce a courting season, mother.”
“I know it sounds like a hassle, dear,” Inko sighed. “And even if you’ve made any… decisions,” she glanced meaningfully at Shoto when she spoke, and he kept politely ignoring her, “you’re going to have to keep to tradition and allow for a courting season. It doesn’t have to be very long though, especially if you’ve already chosen someone.”
“I haven’t chosen anyone, and I’m not really ready for anything like that,” Izuku insisted, but he could already see her starting to frown, could hear her rebuttal even before she said it – Dear, you’re already twenty! You really should start considering that the pack will need a lead alpha or a parent beta to follow when we’re gone.
One glance at his father and he understood why she asked him so often about this, why she always seemed so confused when he refused. Especially when she saw him with Shoto so often. He didn’t know how else to tell her that he wasn’t ready to think about courting and mates, that he had enough to think about when it came to the future of the pack.
Instead of wrestling with those thoughts, Izuku said, “Right now I need to focus on the Omega Moon. Once we get through that, then I’ll have more time to consider other issues.”
Inko frowned, but she did eventually nod. “I suppose,” she mumbled.
“Speaking of,” Izuku turned to his father, who all but sighed, grateful to have had the excuse to change subjects, “Touya reported in last night.”
His father’s expression smoothed over. He glanced toward Shoto, and lowered his voice. “Not here,” he said, and nodded out toward the pack.
Izuku blinked and chanced a peek over his shoulder. Even as the pack went about their morning meal, every now and then, a few pairs of eyes would glance their way, checking on their pack alpha and their aeon omega. This wasn’t unusual; Izuku knew they were always in a sort of spotlight, the pack always aware of them. While the pack followed Toshinori’s lead, they orbited around Izuku, maybe drifting away for a time but always coming back to him. It wasn’t a surprise to find others watching him.
He turned back to his father, a question already brewing, just as the answer arrived, plain as day, in Soren’s face. The beta had a curious look about him, a slight tilt to his chin. As if he hadn’t quite understood what Izuku was talking about. As if—
Izuku shut his mouth, realization making his throat go dry. Not everyone knew about the rogue sighting. If he had to guess, not many people knew about it. If they started talking about scouts coming back, especially if their conversation seemed quite serious, it was going to lead to questions. It was going to make people nervous. And with the Omega Moon coming so soon, nobody needed the added stress of a possible rogue prowling near their village in the forefront of their mind. Not when it was being handled, not when the panic it would induce could be far greater than the consequences of the sighting itself.
Izuku ducked his head and drank from the mug Soren had offered him. It was filled with an herbal tea he was fond of, but it was still a little too hot to drink. He hid a grimace as his tongue burned and set the mug back down.
“Do you have any other preparations to see to?” His father asked instead, moving smoothly over the idea of rogues.
“Uh, not much,” Izuku bit his lip, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind without perhaps giving away anything to anyone listening. “Mostly just ensuring everyone is ready and comfortable. The grounds have been prepared and the omegas have been prepared. We’ll need to check everything over the day of, but all that’s left is just to ensure nothing changes in the next few days.” He hoped his father understood what he was trying to say.
Toshinori nodded. “We’ll ensure everything is ready. And the solemn guard? Have they been selected yet?”
Oh, right. Izuku swallowed, took a breath, and managed a convincing smile. “Well, naturally I’ll be the solemn guard.”
Everyone turned toward him, even Soren and Shoto. Izuku drank from his mug, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, his face heating up the more everyone stared at him.
The silence lingered for a moment longer, then Soren quickly laid out plates of food in front of everyone. “Excuse me, alpha. I’ll return to clean when you’ve had your fill.”
Toshinori didn’t seem to hear Soren, but Inko smiled and thanked him, dismissing him with a little wave. And once he was gone, she was the first to speak. “Is that… really wise, dear?”
“Who else would act as solemn guard?” Izuku challenged.
“Well,” Inko tapped the side of her mug, “typically it’s an alpha who acts as guard. Didn’t you have any alphas volunteer?”
Izuku frowned, squinting against a headache that was trying to form. He had expected this, of course. But that didn’t make it any easier to navigate. “I did. But it’s more appropriate for me to do it. You don’t think I can protect the grounds?”
This time, Inko turned to Toshinori, squarely handing off the rest of the conversation to him with a single, sharp look. It took him a moment to notice, then another moment to collect himself. In the awkward pause between, Izuku felt his hands curling into fists, already imagining what he would say, what he would do. He had half a mind to speak first, but Shoto put a hand on his knee and he wasn’t sure if it was a reminder to let the pack alpha speak first or a sign of support for his cause.
Shoto had, of course, been one of the alphas to volunteer as guard. But this was the first time he was hearing Izuku’s decision. Izuku would have thought he wouldn’t be all that surprised. However, there was something about him, some tension Izuku couldn’t quite decipher.
He’d have to worry about it later. For the moment, all his attention remained on Toshinori, waiting for the pack alpha to make his decision.
The silence lingered for far too long. His father tried to steady everyone by taking a drink, perhaps hoping the others would drink or eat, but nobody dared to move.
Then, with a sigh, Toshinori placed his palms on his knees, and faced Izuku. “Given the circumstances,” he paused, letting Izuku fill in the missing information – the rogue – “I don’t know if it would be wise to have you serve as the guard over the grounds.”
“So you don’t think I could handle it,” Izuku had the words ready. They leaped out of him almost before Toshinori finished speaking.
“It’s not about that,” the pack alpha held up a hand, a plea for calm. It was difficult for Izuku to close his mouth, but out of respect for his pack alpha, for his father, he did. “You serve a very important role in the pack, my boy. There is the potential for more danger than usual. I don’t want to risk something happening to you. It’s my job as pack alpha to ensure the safety of our pack, and that includes you.”
“Yes, but the Moon is my responsibility!” Izuku felt his mother’s hand on his elbow and realized he’d raised his voice. He glanced out over the room, saw that nobody was looking their way. They had all averted their eyes as the tension had risen. A small disruption in their routine. Shifting closer, Izuku lowered his voice and said, “In just a few days, the youngest of our omegas will be out there, celebrating their Moon. They’re the most vulnerable to rogues. I have to make sure they’ll be safe.”
Even as he spoke, his father shook his head. “No, you have to ensure they are able to properly experience their Moon. That is all.”
The correction felt sharp, enough that Izuku felt the hair on his neck prickling. His instinct was to duck his head in submission or hiss in challenge, and he couldn’t really decide which would be better. Biting off his instinct, he said, “My duty is to the pack. To ensure their health. That includes their safety.”
Toshinori looked pained as he gathered himself again to fight Izuku, but before he could, Shoto spoke softly, “If I may, alpha.”
Toshinori blinked, only just remembering Shoto was there. “Yes, please. You may be excused if you’d like.”
“That’s not it, alpha,” Shoto lowered his head slightly, a sign of submission, but Toshinori gestured for him to rise. “I think the omegas would feel better having another omega on the ground with them, protecting them. And Izuku is more than capable. I’d feel safe knowing he was watching over the pack.”
It was high praise. Not for the first time, Izuku felt a pit of warmth sprouting in his stomach as Shoto spoke. But the frown on both Toshinori’s and his mother’s face kept him from feeling too comfortable. As was the slight downward curve of Shoto’s lips.
“But, I would also worry over Izuku being the only guard on the grounds knowing what has happened,” Shoto glanced over the crowd gathered for their meal, perhaps looking for his brother, perhaps simply looking over his pack. As one of the strongest, Shoto was charged with protecting all of them. It was one of the reasons he’d volunteered to guard the Moon in the first place. Izuku knew his loyalty was strong to the pack. He would speak his mind. So he tried not to be too disappointed at hearing Shoto was worried for him.
Shoto’s attention returned to the pack alpha before he continued, “Would it be possible for Izuku to be the only guard on the actual grounds, but for a few select alphas to patrol around the grounds?”
Toshinori and Inko shared a questioning look. Izuku growled quietly, wrinkling his nose. “We usually don’t limit the grounds. We let the omegas go where they want.”
“Given the circumstances, do you really think the omegas will want to wander far?” Shoto asked.
“They don’t know the circumstances,” Izuku grumbled.
To that, Shoto had nothing to say. They both turned to Toshinori, waiting for his verdict. Toshinori was still looking at Inko, and Inko at him. They were having a silent conversation, one that Izuku could only half-read. His mother was worried. She was always worried. Even after she’d mated with Toshinori, she had always affirmed that Izuku was her first priority. She put him over everyone and everything else, as a mother should, she had said. No matter who her mate was. And Izuku could see that concern in her, the way her eyes flicked to him, her son, her only pup, and quickly away, always keeping an eye on him, making sure he was okay first and foremost.
The concern seeped from her into Toshinori, not that it needed to. Izuku knew Toshinori held him very dear, not just because he was the aeon omega. His mother and Toshinori had mated when he was very little, long before he’d started the process of learning to be the aeon omega. Even though Toshinori had always known what Izuku would become to his pack, he’d first been the child of his mate. It had been easy thereafter to see Izuku as son first, aeon omega second. He still did, especially when it was most inconvenient for Izuku.
And so it was that Toshinori shook his head. “I can’t risk it. I can’t risk you.”
Izuku deflated, a half-growl rising in his throat. His presence at the Moon wasn’t necessary, but he’d felt a duty to the others. He should be there, with them, watching over them. He was their aeon omega. He should be there to support the other omegas, especially if there was risk to their safety.
And besides….
Well, perhaps he’d wanted to be a little selfish, to partake in the Moon as well.
He bit his lip, searching for something, anything, that might convince his father. Toshinori had nodded and turned away, just about dismissing the conversation, when a thought struck Izuku. “Wait.”
Inko frowned deeply but Toshinori tilted his head, willing to listen. That was all Izuku needed.
“We don’t want to scare anyone,” he said, knowing his father would understand what he was saying. Even if he disagreed, that was a different point. All he needed was for the pack alpha to understand. “So we won’t tell them what might be happening. But we also don’t want them to wander, either. Whether or not I’m there, we would want the omegas to stay relatively close together, in case something does happen.”
Toshinori frowned. Inko and Shoto shared a look, clearly try to parse something between them. But nobody had figured it out yet. And perhaps they never would. Perhaps Izuku was the only one who truly saw the way the pack revolved around him, never daring to stray too far.
He pressed a hand to his chest. “If I’m the guard at the center of the grounds, then the omegas won’t want to go far. They’ll be drawn to me. They’ll stay close. So we don’t have to tell them. They can enjoy their Moon without worrying, and still be safe.”
“Then we can post alphas outside the grounds,” Shoto added, picking up on Izuku’s thoughts just before he could say them. “If there are any threats anywhere, the alphas will be able to take care of them before they reach Izuku.”
“Right. It’ll be safe for both myself and the omegas.” He smiled at his father, “This is the best plan. And if something does happen, I know there will be someone nearby to call for.”
As they spoke, Toshinori listened, his expression unchanging. Inko looked more and more grave as they spoke, clearly still uncomfortable, but when Izuku turned to her, she seemed to see something within him. A spark of resolution, determination. Of hope. And she sighed resignedly.
As if waiting only for this signal, Toshinori nodded. “Very well. We will do as you say.”
Izuku couldn’t help but smile, feel relief. He glanced to Shoto, saw the alpha was looking mighty proud of himself. He caught Izuku staring and tipped his head to him. They had always made a good team.
“Now that that’s done,” Toshinori turned to his meal and pressed his hands together, “let’s eat before it gets too cold, yes?”