Archive of Our Own ^beta

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?”

Chapter Text

The two idiots walked forward with their heads high and their eyes on the road ahead, not on what lay around them. Katsuki let them walk, let himself drift a little farther back. If something happened, they were likely to get the worst of it, even sticking together as they were. They were too loud, too boisterous, their presences filling up space where they didn’t belong. And behind them, Katsuki followed, but he kept a cautious eye to the area around them, on the shadows that twisted just out of reach.

They were in enemy territory. He could smell them everywhere. A pervasive scent of smoky oak leaves, of bitter herbs, of flowers in the sunshine. The forest had long been claimed by a pack, and it was evident not only in the tastes in the air but the small encampments they had stumbled upon, little dwellings tucked into small corners of the forest. So far, they hadn’t met anyone face to face, but it was bound to happen eventually. Especially since those two weren’t being careful at all.

The safety of the others wasn’t a concern for Katsuki. He had his orders. Even if they left a sour taste in his mouth. It didn’t matter if all three of them made it back or only one, as long as they followed orders. And, as things went, they were simple orders.

Bring an omega back to camp. Do that, and they’d be granted a spot within the pack. Didn’t even need to bring one back each. Just one was a ticket in for all three of them. That was the only reason they were working together, the only reason the three of them tolerated each other. Well, it was the only reason Katsuki tolerated the other two and the other two tolerated Katsuki. He hadn’t bothered to learn their names. No point in it.

One was whip-thin and lanky like a skeleton, all stretched limbs and hard angles. Even his face was hollow, probably with hunger. Katsuki had started calling him Skull-Face, which he didn’t appreciate but still responded to from time to time. The other was meatier, stronger. He wasn’t taller than Katsuki, but he was heftier, a block of muscle powerful enough to run straight through a tree. Where Skull-Face was hollow and pale, ghostly in every sense of the word, the other guy was solid. Katsuki kept a close eye on him, but never forgot about his friend either. Skull-Face and Solid were both alphas. All three of them were. No huge surprise, he supposed. Alphas got kicked out of their packs more often than others.

But Katsuki hadn’t been kicked out. And these two plainly had. There was a line between them. They worked together because it was convenient. But they were not the same. And all three of them knew it.

So Katsuki hung back, let Skull-Face and Solid think themselves so clever. Let them think he was just a scarred up, raggedy young alpha tossed from his pack for causing trouble. He didn’t give a damn what they thought of him. He had a mission. He’d see it through.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself as he trudged forward, swinging his gaze side to side, over his shoulder, keeping his nostrils flared to catch every stray scent in the air. But as he watched the two morons in front of him, it was more and more difficult to reconcile the fact that, if they succeeded, he’d end up in a pack with these two. And he’d be in a pack that seemingly regularly sent out parties to kidnap people.

His mother would be so furious at him. But surely she would understand? Surely she would see that he had tried to live on his own, that he had struggled to cope without a pack at his back. Surely she would understand that the emptiness and quiet of being alone had slowly wormed into his head in strange ways, fed him dangerous thoughts. Surely she would understand that this was his very last option.

He tried not to think about it. Not only because she was dead and it didn’t really matter what she may or may not have thought. But because he had much bigger issues to focus on.

Ahead of him, Skull-Face stopped, lifted his head, and sniffed the air. He growled. “Don’t smell anything.”

“Yet,” Solid added, casting a look around. He seemed surprised when he spotted a stream only a few paces away. Katsuki would have rolled his eyes but it would have taken more effort than it was worth. “Alpha said his scouts confirmed there’s pack grounds nearby.”

Katsuki frowned at the reminder. The pack he was seeking to join was a roaming pack, not one who felt the need to take a single territory, but saw all territory as theirs. Most roaming packs Katsuki had met, when his parents had been alive, had been quite wonderful. But there were bad eggs everywhere. He was starting to suspect this was one of them. And not just because the pack’s alpha hadn’t bothered to give them his name. He said he preferred to be called Alpha. Like he had some weird complex about it.

Skull-Face swung around and spotted Katsuki as if for the first time. “Keep up, blondie. Otherwise we’ll let the wolves have you.” He snickered as he started forward again, Solid slinking in his shadow. Katsuki took a blissful moment to imagine slamming Skull-Face’s head into a tree, then followed them.

They had been walking for several hours, but there were still some ways to go. Alpha had said the pack’s main territory was about half a day’s walk away, and to reach the village they’d have to go even farther. The village wouldn’t be very far from a source of water, and so far the stream was the only one they’d seen. Following the stream was their best bet.

Katsuki considered leaving Skull-Face and Solid, but eventually he snapped, “Hey, morons. We’re following the stream.”

Solid scowled deeply. “Since when do you give the orders?”

“And who are you calling morons?” Skull-Face stepped forward like was gearing up for a fight. As if he could do anything to Katsuki.

It wasn’t even worth getting angry over. He watched the flow of the stream, and turned toward the source. “Village will be upstream.”

“How do you know?” Skull-Face challenged, but even as he said it, Solid’s brow quirked with understanding.

Katsuki jerked a thumb in his direction. “Ask the lesser moron to explain it.” With that done, he glanced up to see if he could spot the sun through the trees, but the canopy was too thick. He clicked his tongue. He wasn’t used to so much forest, so many trees. He wouldn’t be able to see the stars later, and that rankled a nerve he didn’t really want to think about.

He took a step forward before a meaty hand landed on his shoulder. Solid was glaring at him, standing far too close. Katsuki shot him a warning look, but he ignored it. I knew he was a moron, Katsuki thought as he flexed his hands.

“You might have a point,” Solid said, “but you don’t get to talk to me that way. You’re not the boss around here.”

“Oh, and you are?” Katsuki bared his teeth in a challenging grin, smirking further when Solid returned the display with a flash of teeth and a growl. “Just shut up and follow me. You want to get this done already, don’t you?”

He waited, but Solid didn’t loosen his grip and Katsuki didn’t try to step away. A few feet from them, Skull-Face was watching, his eyes narrowed. Katsuki could tell he hadn’t decided whether to join the fight or not, and if he did, it wouldn’t be on Katsuki’s side.

Not that it mattered.

“Let go,” he warned, “or I’ll have to make you.”

Solid tightened his grip and opened his mouth, perhaps to challenge Katsuki, but the moment he did, Katsuki slammed his palm flat against Solid’s face and let sparks dance along his skin.

Solid froze as his sweat hissed from the heat, as his skin burned. Katsuki kept his lips peeled back, his teeth showing. “Well? You going to force the issue?” He hissed, and Solid took a step away.

He released Katsuki and ducked his head, not quite in submission but enough of a concession that Katsuki lowered his hand. Still, he didn’t dare turn his back until Solid started following the stream.

“Sooner we grab an omega, the sooner this is over,” Solid growled.

Skull-Face slunk past Katsuki to follow Solid, shooting Katsuki a nasty look, but he didn’t dare rise up to set forth a challenge himself. Whether they liked it or not, they all understood where they stood. Katsuki was the top of the food chain, even if he wasn’t going to be making any friends soon. He’d learned in the rogue world that might made right, and so far, he was one of the mightiest around.

Another reason to keep eyes in the back of his head. There was no way he would trust either Solid or Skull-Face not to put a knife in his back given half a chance. Perhaps for now they understood their chances of success were better with him, but if he had to bet, a fight was coming once they got the omega.

He flexed and curled his hands, let out a steadying breath. Glanced over his shoulder one more time, knowing no one else was there to watch his back for him.

- - -

Skull-Face and Solid eventually made the smart decision that it was better for them to hide during the day, lest they be found and chased out before they could accomplish their mission. The three of them found an overturned tree with a complex root burrow underneath it, the perfect place to wait for the day to fade.

Inside, Katsuki tucked himself into a corner away from Skull-Face and Solid, but made sure to face toward them, to keep them both in his line of sight. In such a confined space, it would be easier for them to try something, but neither of them paid him much mind. Instead, they whispered between each other, smirking and laughing. The few snippets he caught suggested they were having a rather lewd conversation about what they would do once they were officially accepted into the pack.

Once he realized they weren’t paying any attention to him, Katsuki focused on everything else around them. The forest was muffled from the roots around them, but he still could hear the birds chirping and the shifting of small animals through the bramble. The sounds were mostly unfamiliar to him – in his homeland, he would have been able to tell which birds were calling, whether it was a song of distress or of love. He would have been able to guess within reason just what was rooting around the underbrush nearby, and perhaps would have known whether it was worth trying to hunt down. But these forests were an unknown to him. Everything was new. Everything could be a threat. Everything had to be taken with a bit more than an ounce of caution.

It was his caution that made him aware when someone stepped on a branch just outside their burrow.

Katsuki lifted his head, listened, flared his nostrils to sniff out who had come. They might not be deep in enemy territory, but it was still possible to run into a hunting party even this far out. The three of them might be able to fend off such a party, but it would ruin the element of surprise they currently had.

He clicked his tongue sharply, a warning to the two morons. They clearly didn’t understand what he was trying to say, but it did piss them off enough that they both quieted down, and in that quiet, they heard the second branch snap.

Solid growled and charged out of the burrow, closely followed by Skull-Face. Katsuki rolled his eyes and waited to see what would happen to them, wondering if he might be able to slip away in the fray. He heard a startled yelp then a few hushed words, and Solid and Skull-Face slunk back into the burrow, followed by a scrawny male beta. As he approached, Katsuki caught the scent of Alpha’s pack on him, and realized he was the scout that Alpha had mentioned.

The beta looked put off, no doubt by the welcome Solid had given him, but he nodded to Katsuki when he saw him.

“Well,” he glanced around the burrow, “isn’t this cozy?”

“What’re you doing here?” Katsuki demanded.

Solid bared his teeth at him. “I ask the questions here.” He turned toward the beta, only the beta brushed right past him, crouching at Katsuki’s side.

Betas were smart. They had an intuitive sense of power and where it lay. It had taken him all of three seconds to recognize that while Solid and Skull-Face were loud and pushy, Katsuki was the true power within that burrow, even if he wasn’t necessarily the leader, and smart betas followed power.

As such, the beta inclined his head to Katsuki, all but ignoring the other two alphas. “Name’s Jest. I’m sure Alpha mentioned me.”

“Not by name,” Katsuki said, gauging the beta’s reaction.

Jest just grinned. “Alpha keeps his own close. If he didn’t give you a name, must be because he doesn’t have high hopes for you.” The beta’s gaze slid toward Skull-Face and Solid, who glared back. Unconcerned, he faced Katsuki again. “I’ve got some info if you want it.”

“Speak,” Katsuki growled, and Jest did just that.

“Pack in the area is pretty large. Hard to tell exact numbers because it’s so spread out, but my guess is it’s the largest in the area. There are settlements around the main village mostly consisting of lone or pair alphas and small groups of betas. But there are a couple of omegas wandering around the outskirts, if you’re lucky enough to stumble across them.”

Skull-Face and Solid grinned at one another, already seeing their spoils. Katsuki, however, narrowed his eyes.

“This pack must not be one you’ve interacted with much before,” he said, again watching Jest’s reaction, “if they’re allowing omegas to run loose.”

Jest shook his head, allowed himself a little chuckle. “No, Alpha’s never interacted with this pack. We don’t usually travel in these circles. Good news for you, though. Should be simple to snatch up one of their omegas. Might not even realize they’re gone.”

“That’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it? That way you can sneak a few others before they get wise to it.” Even as he said it, Katsuki felt sick.

He felt even worse when Jest shrugged. “Alpha’s got his plans. All you need to be worried about right now is whether or not you’re going to be a part of those plans.”

Katsuki didn’t like the way Jest said it. Not with how he’d also said Alpha didn’t seem to have high hopes for them. What the hell was he doing?

Without meaning to, he thought about his mom again, how disappointed she would be.

Maybe this was a mistake.

“Another word of advice,” Jest lowered his voice, spoke just for Katsuki to hear. Behind him, Skull-Face and Solid were muttering to each other, perhaps planning how they were going to find and snatch up one of these wandering omegas. They noticed Jest talking to Katsuki, but dismissed it. Didn’t even bother to try to listen.

Fools.

Katsuki tilted his head, turning his better ear toward Jest. The beta nodded toward the entrance to their burrow, to the world beyond it, “When Alpha is displeased, he’s known to trim off what he considers dead weight. As a roaming pack, we can’t afford to drag much around that’s not useful. That includes pack members, and omegas.”

A shiver went over Katsuki.

How many rogues had Alpha had killed because he saw them as dead weight? How many omegas had he murdered simply because they hadn’t been up to his standard?

“If you want a chance into the pack,” Jest continued, his grin curved like a scorpion’s tail, “my advice is to make sure the omega you find is worthy of someone like Alpha.”

He leaned away, not allowing Katsuki to question him more. Not that Katsuki needed to. He understood completely. And all it did was twist his stomach.

Seemingly unconcerned with his discomfort, or perhaps not recognizing it, Jest ran a hand along the right side of his face. “So, what happened to you?”

Katsuki leveled a glare up at the beta. Not even the morons had dared to ask him where his scars came from. They wove along the entire right side of his body, along his arm and up across his face, a mass of warped skin. One glance and anyone would know it was a miracle he was alive. One glance and anyone would know it was probably something he wouldn’t want to talk about.

But Jest didn’t seem to mind the glare Katsuki gave him. He just chuckled and said, “I’m sure you know this, but showing weakness is a bad way to start in our pack. But lucky for you, Alpha sees survivors as a different breed.” He flashed that scorpion grin again. “Maybe he has hopes for someone like you after all.”

Someone like him.

Katsuki snorted. “If you don’t have anything else, then you can get out of here. We have work to do.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” Jest stood, cast one last glance toward Skull-Face and Solid, and lifted a hand to Katsuki. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“You’ll be seeing us again soon enough,” Solid growled.

Jest’s grin split, showing his teeth. “I don’t doubt it.” He slipped out before anyone could say anything else to him.

Skull-Face snorted once he’d left. “We’ll leave in two hours,” he commanded.

Katsuki didn’t bother to pay attention. He leaned back and shut his eyes. In his mind, he saw his mother frowning, looking down at him with something between sorrow and disappointment.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Katsuki put an arm over his eyes, and decided he just needed a little bit of sleep.

- - -

When night fell, they set out again. Katsuki looked up and saw that the moon was nearly full over them. The next night, it would show its face completely, bathe them in its light. Even as it was, moonlight cast shadows on the ground around them, deep, twisting shadows that could easily be slipped through. When he opened his mouth, he caught the scent of the nearby pack, nothing distinct, just an encompassing presence that couldn’t be ignored. This forest had been walked by this pack for generations. It knew them as much as they knew it. And Katsuki and the morons were simply intruders to that peace.

As they walked in silence, moving closer to the heart of the pack’s territory, Katsuki firmly decided that he did not want any part in what was to come next. He didn’t like the way Jest had smiled and spoken of Alpha, how he had confided in Katsuki that there was blood on Alpha’s hands. That the lives of others meant so little to them.

He didn’t want to be a part of a pack like that.

But what other option did he have?

He lifted his head and smelled the air, the scent of the pack that lived in that forest. It blended smoothly with the pines around them, just a bit sharper than the trees and the water in the stream. The pack smelled of rain through the leaves, of freshly turned earth. Of rocks bleached by the sun, content in their place.

The last scent caught him off guard. His own pack had once smelled like that. Of solidity and certainty. Of belonging. A rock half buried in the dirt and left to bathe under the sun for hundreds of years to come. Sweet grasses rolling along hills that had existed long before their pack had.

A terrible pain sparked in his chest, leaping to the scars along his arm. He rubbed at them, making sure Skull-Face and Solid didn’t notice.

What was the pack that called this forest home like? Was it anything like Katsuki’s? It didn’t seem like it – his pack had been very centralized, all living in close quarters that had driven him insane. For as much as he’d once complained about it before, he would have given anything for a chance to curl up with his family in their communal nest. Did this pack have something like that?

Would they accept an outcast like him?

Probably not. So few packs allowed rogues into their fold. Sometimes a member of one pack would join another pack, slipping from one to the other as if simply exchanging a coat. But rogues were a different matter. No one could vouch for a rogue. No one could reassure that they were good people. Joining a pack was much more difficult when you had no one who could say they knew who you were.

As much as Katsuki didn’t want to join the roaming pack, once he did, he’d have a better time slipping free, joining a different pack, one that he agreed with, one that didn’t have such a tyrant for a pack alpha. And since they were a roaming pack, he’d be able to travel around, to find the pack that was right for him. He certainly wouldn’t be allowed to join any pack in the area once he and the morons snatched an omega.

He only had to endure this roaming pack for a little while. Until he found a different pack. One he could settle into. One that fit him, just as much as he fit the pack.

The thought did not make what he had been sent to do any easier. Jest had said if they wanted to live they had to find a worthy omega. Otherwise, they would all die, including the omega. Fine. Maybe they’d be lucky enough to run across an omega who didn’t want to be part of their current pack. Maybe these omegas that lived on the fringe did so because they didn’t like their current pack.

Katsuki could only be so lucky as to find someone like that. If he was being honest, it wasn’t going to be anything like that. Especially not with moron one and moron two in the lead.

As if sensing he was thinking about them, Skull-Face turned over his shoulder. “Keep up! We’re in enemy territory now. Can’t afford to get separated.”

Katsuki resisted the urge to point out that they only wanted him close because they knew he was the strongest, that in a fight, they’d need him to handle everything himself. So far, he didn’t have any indication that either Skull-Face or Solid were blessed, though most people were to some degree. It was possible their blessings didn’t lend to fighting very easily, in which case they would need Katsuki to handle any warriors they came across.

Or they had to hope whoever they stumbled upon first also had no fighting abilities to speak of. Since the pack wasn’t expecting an attack, that was more likely than finding a warrior amongst the trees, but not impossible.

Katsuki again glanced over his shoulder, searching for signs of movement, of someone watching them, but the forest was steady around them.

Since Katsuki refused to walk faster, Skull-Face and Solid slowed slightly, scowling in displeasure as they did so. Once Katsuki was closer, Solid said, “We should get a little closer then find a place to hide. Wait for someone to come past us rather than stay out in the open.”

It was a rather smart plan for someone as stupid as Solid. Then again, Katsuki already knew he was the least stupid of the two. Not that he was going to admit that to his face. Instead, he grunted his assent and kept walking forward.

They hadn’t gone much farther when Skull-Face grinned. “Just think about it,” he hissed delightedly, “all we have to do is kick back and relax, wait for a stray omega to wander by, snatch them up, and head back to Alpha. Easy as that! Haven’t done anything easier in my life.” He let out a snort that even Solid eyed him for.

“Nothing easy about it. Can’t let anyone know what we’re doing, and it’s not like the omega’s just going to let us take them.”

“But that’s the fun part.” Skull-Face slid a long coil of corded leather from his sleeve, pulling it taut between his hands. “My old pack loved these little things. Attach a weight to them and they become a weapon. Sneak up behind someone and wrap this around their throats, makes them real quiet real quickly, and dead soon after. And they’re neigh unbreakable without a good, sharp knife. Good for keeping someone from running. The hunters used these on animals and people alike, when necessary.” He snapped his wrist and the cord disappeared back up his sleeve. “Leave the omega to me. I’ll make sure we get away without anyone noticing.”

Solid grunted and Katsuki remained quiet. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit that Skull-Face’s cord seemed useful. He’d have to get ahold of it and see how it was made, maybe put one together for himself. Something that lightweight and versatile was worth a bit of investigating for himself.

“It’ll be easy,” Skull-Face continued, “and it’ll only take as long as the first omega wandering too close.”

“Maybe not the first,” Katsuki grumbled.

Skull-Face shot him a withering look. “All we need is an omega. Why wouldn’t we just grab the first one who’s stupid enough to wander off on their own?”

Katsuki didn’t even bother rolling his eyes. “We’re using them as an offering to be accepted into a pack. If we bring a ratty, underfed omega, doesn’t really seem like that good of an offering, does it? Would you accept something like that? Are you just that pathetic?”

Skull-Face turned an impressive color of red, which was strange to see on his weirdly shaped face, but Solid spoke before he could, “He’s right. We have time and the element of surprise. We can wait it out, hunt down a good looking omega for Alpha. Then he’ll know we’re worthy of joining.”

Skull-Face sucked on his bottom lip, but he said nothing. He did, however, throw Katsuki a rather dark look when he stepped past.

Solid nodded toward the road ahead. “Keep close. Once the scent gets stronger, we’ll find a burrow to hide, then we’ll keep watch. Find the right one. You grab the omega when we find them,” he nodded to Skull-Face, then turned to Katsuki, “and if we run into trouble, you take the lead.”

Katsuki peeled his lips back, showing off his teeth. “You don’t get to order me around, meathead.”

Solid eyed him flatly, and turned back toward the road. “This’ll work. Just keep your heads on until we get this done.”

Sure, they could do that. But Katsuki knew it would a power struggle thereafter. Once they got what they wanted, he expected Skull-Face and Solid to try to buck him out of their group. And maybe that was fine. Maybe Katsuki didn’t want to be associated with them anyway.

Maybe he was making a huge mistake.

Skull-Face snapped his teeth as he stepped past Katsuki again, hurrying to be at Solid’s side. Katsuki had half a mind to blow them both to dust, but decided it wouldn’t be very sporting to do it with their backs turned and followed after them, keeping a close eye on his back as he did.

Chapter Text

Izuku made his pick of five of the pack’s strongest and steadiest alphas and one beta to serve as guardians of the grounds. The traditional grounds for Omega Moons was a grove half a day’s trek to the north, at the edge of the ridge that ran through their territory. The morning of the Moon, all of the participating omegas, and their guardians, would leave the village following the stream until it met the river, then they would follow the river until they found the waterfall. There, they would find themselves cloistered in a natural grove perfect for lounging or playing or otherwise just enjoying a night under the moon.

Most omegas in the pack had participated in at least one Moon, with many participating in several. Before their first heat, a young omega would run with the others in the pack during the Moon as a sort of initiation, a welcome to a side of the pack they had beforehand been too young to join. Sometimes the Moons could get a little heated – tensions ran high and it wasn’t unusual for fights and love affairs to break out – but overall, it was meant to be a night of joy and exploration of one’s self and those of their shared secondary gender.

Unlike most of the omegas, Izuku had never participated in an Omega Moon. He had been seen as too fragile, too precious, and Toshinori had worried that his presence would distract the other omegas, especially when he was younger. They would be drawn to him, as they always were but even more so, drawn to be near him and protect him and otherwise give themselves to him. Once, under a False Moon, he had been allowed to run with his mother and Toshinori as guard, but that had been a long time ago.

So despite what he had told them, everyone knew why Izuku really wanted to participate in the Moon. He had never had the chance before, and this was really the only opportunity he could think of to finally get to participate. Perhaps it was under false pretenses, but he tried not to think about that. Along with wanting to participate in the Moon, he also wanted to be there to support the other omegas. He was their aeon omega, after all. He had a duty to them.

But, for once, he was happy to be a little selfish in how he served his pack.

In the days leading up to the Moon, scouts circulated reports about the rogue, never sightings, never proof, just a strange uneasiness that couldn’t be placed. Nobody felt completely right about what was happening, but nobody could find what exactly was wrong.

It left the pack in a strange place, tense and uncomfortable yet also looking forward to the Moon. The Moon was supposed to be a chance for renewal. Many of the participating omegas would go into heat soon after the Moon. Pups might follow soon after. The thought of that was exciting. The thought that something might be out in the same woods the omegas were about to go celebrating through made the air feel a bit stickier, a bit uninviting.

Still, Izuku did his best to ease the tension. Although he didn’t sleep much, he spent most nights in the communal nest and most days giving his time to the pack, either listening and speaking with them one on one, or otherwise making his presence known throughout the village.

Toshinori, he noticed, kept a very close eye on him. He kept a close eye on everything, but especially Izuku. It only made sense. The pack revolved around Izuku. He would see most of the pack at least once a day unless he sequestered himself inside his nest. By keeping an eye on Izuku, Toshinori was also keeping an eye on just about everyone else.

But Izuku knew it was mostly so he could keep an eye on him.

Still, he did his best to smile through the mounting pressure, ignoring the tension that was seeping into his shoulders. He made sure to fluff up his coat to hide it, but he could tell a few had noticed.

Shoto, of course, was the first to say something to him.

“Are you nervous about the Moon?” He asked quite bluntly one afternoon.

Izuku shook his head. “Not really.”

“You’re nervous about something.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s a little nervous right now.”

“Sure. But you’re more nervous than anyone else.”

Izuku sighed. He was sitting in the middle of the village, amongst a group of betas who were making clothes for the omegas to wear during the Moon. These clothes were part of the tradition of it, and they were especially important for those who had never participated in a Moon before. The youngest of the omegas would also be given a necklace to signify their initiation into the Moons. While Izuku didn’t quite have a hand for weaving, he’d been trying to ease the tension rippling through the betas by being with them, speaking with them, even trying his hand at weaving a necklace, otherwise pretending that nothing was wrong.

And yet, Shoto had seen right through him. Of course, Shoto often saw through him. They’d practically been raised together. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, he wished the alpha would have held his tongue for once.

He finished tying off the thread he’d been working on and handed it to the beta next to him, a spunky girl called Mina. “Do you mind finishing that off for me?”

“Of course, shula!” She elongated his title as if she were singing, dragging it out like shuuuuu-la!

“Thanks,” Izuku stood and dusted his coat off, then nodded for Shoto to follow him.

Izuku led him through the village and ducked through the beaded cover over his dwelling, aware of Shoto hesitating before he stepped inside. Although Shoto had always been welcome in his dwelling, the alpha always hesitated, as if he didn’t feel quite right simply stepping inside. It probably had something to do with Izuku being unmated and the presence of his nest within the dwelling. And it probably had something to do with the pressure his father put on him about Izuku, though that was another matter entirely.

The inside of Izuku’s dwelling mirrored that of nearly every other omega’s. Had he wished, he could have asked for a huge building to be dedicated to him, one the size of the communal nest if he had demanded it. But the thought of taking up so much room in the village just for him made him uneasy. So he’d built his dwelling himself, just as every other omega did, and he’d mirrored it off of the nest his mother had kept before she had mated with Toshinori.

Half of the dwelling sat on a lowered wooden floor, the planks admittedly smoother and made of better material than most other dwellings, but still familiar to any other omega nest. This lower section served as a sort of communal space, as much as there was communal space. Guests were permitted there, and on that level there was a short, small table and several plush cushions to sit at, to enjoy food or tea. Izuku also used it for studying, for writing and reading and other more menial administrative tasks assigned to him as aeon omega and son to the pack alpha.

The second half was on a raised platform completely covered in soft mats. A little over half was dominated by Izuku’s nest, a mountain of down-feathered cushions and blankets and everything soft and wonderful. It was mostly covered by a thin but sturdy curtain hung to keep prying eyes from peering within, and also helped to keep the bugs out. In the other corner was a small square of elaborately weaved mat, upon which Izuku was supposed to sit to welcome and entertain guests. As aeon omega, he was often expected to be separate from others, as he held a higher position than most, represented by his position on the higher platform. But Izuku rarely held court like that. It wasn’t in his nature. For sake of tradition, he kept that spot and used it mostly when entertaining delegates from other packs.

For Shoto, he joined the alpha at the low table, pulling up a circular bit of wood at the center of the table, which hid a small compartment for a fire. Without thinking, Shoto reached into the pit, fire racing up his fingers until it lit the few bits of charcoal inside. As the embers crackled and began heating the room, Izuku settled back.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Shoto shook his head. “You’re tired.”

“I am,” Izuku felt a little embarrassed admitting it. But he also knew Shoto wouldn’t judge him. That he, out of anyone else, understood. “It’s been a lot to finalize everything. Especially with the rogue out there.”

“Do you really think there’s a rogue out there?”

The question caught him off guard. For the last several days, Izuku hadn’t questioned the validity of the rogue sighting. One of their pack members had reported to Toshinori that he had seen someone wander into their territory, without presenting themself. They had waited, but nobody had come to announce their arrival. So then, they had taken the sighting to be a wandering rogue, one brazen enough to simply walk straight into their territory. The rogue would have been able to tell immediately that a pack lived there; the forest was heavy with their scent. But they had still wandered in, and as far as anyone knew, they hadn’t left yet.

Or… perhaps they had. Perhaps they’d gotten into the forest and realized the scent in the air belonged to a pack and simply left. Perhaps that man, an elderly alpha who tended to a small garden on the outskirts of their territory, had simply mistaken what he’d seen.

Perhaps there was nothing at all out in the woods.

Instead of answering, Izuku asked, “Do you?”

The alpha measured his answered before speaking, “I don’t know. Something seems strange, but every time we’ve had reports of rogues, we’ve always been able to track them down.”

“I know,” Izuku muttered. And maybe that was what was wearing on him. It didn’t happen often, but rogues sometimes wandered into their territory. Most were harmless enough – searching for scraps of food or simple passage through the territory. Some had ill intent.

Izuku remembered when he had been but a pup, a rogue had managed to slip into the village using some sort of blessing. He’d never been given the full story of what happened, but he remembered his mother holding onto him, rocking back and forth and singing to him. Just over her singing, he’d heard the fighting beyond the walls of their dwelling. Once the fighting settled down, Toshinori had come to find them. Back then, he had been a man of full frame, an alpha in every sense of the word. But he’d trembled with fear when he’d first stepped into the dwelling, his eyes wide and searching, and only when Inko and Izuku were safely in his arms had he relaxed.

The night prickled something in Izuku’s mind, a long-buried feeling of unease. And maybe that was all this was. A memory sewn into the very fabric of their pack. A scar they hid well but was now being worried until it bled.

He sighed and leaned a little closer to the embers. The fire was well contained in a stone bowl, the charcoal glowing. It seeped into the air, along Izuku’s skin, tried to drip into his bones. But he couldn’t let himself relax. Not yet.

“Has Touya gone out to do anymore scouting?” He asked.

Shoto shook his head. “He left to check on Natsuo. He’s worried about him, being alone with his mate.”

Izuku nodded. He understood that fear. Natsuo and his mate had left nearly as soon as they could, and now lived beyond the protection of their village. They were not the only ones out alone in the pack’s territory, but even so they were at greater risk if there was a threat. It pained Izuku to know Touya was still so worried about the rogue, in his own way.

“Tensei and Tenya went out to scout,” Shoto added. “They couldn’t find anything, but they did come across a strange scent. Not a person, not an animal. Something else.”

“Something else?” Izuku frowned. He didn’t quite know what else there was to smell in the forest.

Shoto shook his head. “They couldn’t explain it.”

Strange. Very strange, indeed.

Izuku chewed at his lip. He surveyed Shoto’s expression, noticed the slight frown at the corner of his lip, the careful way he watched the fire, concentrating on it rather than anything else. “You’re not saying something,” Izuku declared.

Shoto’s frown deepened. He held out his hand and the fire flickered, leaped to his palm. He coddled the fire, watched it roll over his palm, his knuckles. Then, it went out, and he faced Izuku.

“Come spar with me.”

Izuku blinked. It wasn’t an odd request on its own; he and Shoto were often sparring partners. They had learned from and with one another for years. But this wasn’t like any other time Shoto had asked to spar with him. Tension was still rolling through the alpha. An underlying current that threatened to break over the surface, an inferno ready to spread.

Slowly, Izuku nodded. “Right now?”

Shoto replied by standing and shucking his coat off, letting it drop to the floor.

Izuku nodded. “All right,” he said, and smothered the charcoal with the lid.

- - -

The blessed of their village had a variety of semi-dangerous to entirely destructive blessings. Their need to cultivate their abilities had led to some problems in decades past, but most of them had been resolved by the construction of the arena just outside the village. It was a hollowed remnant of a landslide, huge pillars of rocks that had tumbled down the ridge and settled at strange angles in land they had never meant to dwell. The pillars formed a semicircle of impassable rock cliffs and ledges. Over the years the pack had built up sturdy stone walls on the other side of the arena, to insulate any damage.

Izuku always stood with his back to the cliffs. Without a blessing, he wasn’t capable of causing vast destruction such as others in the pack were. And Shoto, wielding one of the most destructive blessings, stood facing the cliff, which had and could and would withstand his power.

Shoto stood alone, unarmed, his feet planted wide, his arms relaxed at his sides, fixing Izuku with a steady glare, calculating and scheming. Meanwhile, Izuku pulled the hood of his coat up, cinching it tight so it was less likely to fall from catching wind. The downy rock eagle fathers that adorned him seemed to sense the tension in the air, the coming fight, lifting up like hairs along the back of a neck. It gave the omega a sense of expanding, of taking up more space than would usually be afforded to him.

“Best two out of three?” He called.

Shoto just stared back, steam rising up around him.

Something prickled along Izuku’s arms as he faced Shoto. Something didn’t feel right. There was too much tension in the air, too much heat. Standing across the arena from him, Izuku could practically feel the fire burning under the alpha’s skin.

They had grown up together. Izuku had watched as Shoto’s blessing had started as simply a few sparks, a few thin whisps of cold air. They had trained together, learned each other’s strengths and weaknesses, leaned into one another’s blind spots, built themselves as a team. In all that time, Shoto had never burned.

His father burned. Enji was known as the Burning Alpha for a reason. He was their pack’s primary guardian, the lead alpha save for Toshinori himself. Enji left a wake of heat wherever he went. Shoto had never wanted to be like his father. Had always strived to be different from him.

But now, Izuku couldn’t see the lines between father and son as well. Shoto stood and the air shimmered around him, as if feeding off his fury, building up to an inferno. Shoto’s eyes narrowed, just so, and he lifted a hand.

Before he could attack, Izuku duck to the side. A column of flame roared overhead. He hissed at the heat, felt as the feathers of his coat responded to the attack, growing stiff and edged, just as they would on the eaglets that had once worn them. Rock eagles were known for exactly two things: their size and their feathers, which could turn harder than stone.

Izuku could feel the coat stiffening along his back and arms, the feathers sliding together, woven to never impede his ability to move swiftly. When Shoto aimed another blast of fire at him, Izuku ducked that one as well, slipping away just before the flames reached him.

This battle wasn’t like their others. Shoto was aiming to stop him. As if he were an enemy. As if he needed to be put down. There was no playful edge, no curious experimentation. Shoto stood at the other end of the arena, and he intended to destroy Izuku.

Izuku hissed and ducked behind a rock as ice spread along the ground. It arched overhead, a deadly canopy, leaving Izuku only a little patch of unfrosted ground. He let out a breath, watched as it misted in front of him.

All right. He pulled his sword free from its sheath. If that’s how you want to do this….

Ice crackled behind the rock, and Izuku only just leaped away before more ice encompassed the place where he’d been sitting. He rolled out into the open, ducking behind his coat as another wave of flames covered him. The heat made his sweat hiss.

Beyond the roar of the flames, Izuku heard a shout. When the flames died away and he let his coat drop, he saw that spectators were gathering. A young woman watched, horrified, a hand over her mouth. A couple others stood nearby, looking shocked at the display, at the violence.

Shoto didn’t notice. His attention was focused wholly on Izuku, his face smooth, lacking any emotion save for a hard edge of determination. He was proving something. But what, Izuku couldn’t fathom. And whatever his intent, he was starting to gather an audience, starting to get attention.

Izuku needed to end this quickly. Before others saw. Before someone got the wrong idea and stepped into the fight. Before Shoto got himself into trouble.

So when Shoto stepped to attack again, Izuku darted forward.

Ice shot toward him and he leaped, missing the leading edge and landing on the slick ground. He dug his heels in, the soles of his boots catching the ice, and he shot forward again.

Shoto was strong. But Izuku had learned to be fast. Fast enough to slip under Shoto’s next attack. Fast enough to duck behind the alpha’s guard. Fast enough to slam his foot into Shoto’s knee, unbalancing him, and sending him sprawling to the ground with a simple shove. In an instant, Izuku was on top of him, his sword hovering over Shoto.

“Do you yield?” The words were typical for their sparring sessions, but Izuku found himself panting them, breathless and worried. He didn’t know if Shoto would yield.

Shoto blinked, dazed from the fall, and when his eyes refocused, he lifted his hands in surrender. Cautious, Izuku stood, offering a hand to the alpha and pulling him back to his feet. He was aware of the pack stirring around them, of more spectators trickling in, drawn by a wave of distress from the first few who had witnessed Shoto’s violence. But the fight was over and there was nothing left to see. The audience relaxed and slowly started to disperse. As they did, Izuku noted the distrustful glances they gave each other.

If he needed proof of the tension in the air, all he had to do was watch the lingering crowd. Shoto was a favored son of the pack. And even he was getting startled and suspicious looks from people.

Distracted as he was, Izuku missed when Shoto approached, startled when his hand closed over Izuku’s, over his sword. The alpha tugged as if to take it from him but Izuku resisted.

“Sho,” he whispered, hoping the childhood name might rattle something within him.

Shoto’s face was still that smooth line of determination. When Izuku refused to let the sword go, he relented, and finally, his gaze softened.

Izuku sheathed his sword, watching Shoto carefully. The alpha glanced up and over the few lingering pack members, but when he met their gaze, they turned away, slowly going back to their business. As they did, Izuku noticed someone watching at the very edge of the crowd. Touya had his arms crossed over his chest, his expression a tight-lipped smile of annoyance and amusement.

“You’re going to get an earful from him later,” Izuku whispered.

Shoto shook his head. “Fine. I don’t care.” He faced Izuku with his back straight and his chin raised, that hard edge still in his eyes. “I needed to know.”

“Know what?” Izuku asked, but part of him already knew.

“That you could really defend yourself,” Shoto replied, and when Izuku frowned, he merely shook his head. “If you’re going to serve as solemn guard, then I had to know. If something were to happen, I had to know you’d be okay.”

Something tasting bitter rose up Izuku’s throat. “You know I can defend myself. How often have we trained together? How often have we sparred?”

“This isn’t like that!” Shoto’s voice rose, sharp.

It crashed through the space between them, cut a line between them and those watching. Izuku blinked, half in shock, half in surprise, as Shoto clenched his hands, shut his eyes.

“If there’s someone out there,” Shoto snarled, “they won’t treat you like I treat you. It won’t be a game.”

“I know it’s not a game,” Izuku snapped, and only then did Shoto face him, eyes burning.

He looked so much like his father, for the briefest moment.

“You don’t,” Shoto stated simply. He lifted his chin, seemed to consider saying something more, then turned away. There was nothing but simmering silence in his wake, things left unsaid scattered in the growing number of paces between them.

Izuku let him go, not knowing what to say, what had happened. He stood there until he noticed movement, saw Touya step forward, his arms swinging at his side.

He half expected Touya to apologize for his brother, but even as he thought that, he nearly laughed. Touya wasn’t one to apologize, for himself or anyone else. And especially not for his brother.

“Shula,” he greeted shortly, “that was quite a show.”

Izuku considered him, then those around them, but the pack had mostly dispersed by then and those that remained were more interested speaking to each other or watching Shoto’s back as he walked away. Still, he kept his voice low when he answered, “What’s wrong with him? He’s never acted like this before.”

Touya had the audacity to laugh. “Course he has! You just give him a pass because you feel bad.”

Warmth flushed through Izuku’s face. He tried to think back, tried to remember Shoto acting out, but couldn’t remember anything. Not at first. But slowly, memories trickled back. About times Shoto had lost his temper, when his anger had flared hot and high. But that heat had never been directed at Izuku before. Shoto had never lost his temper at the omega.

But Touya was wrong. Those times he remembered, the moments Shoto had stood up for himself, or for others, or had otherwise spoken his mind, Izuku hadn’t said anything against him because he felt bad. It was because he’d always agreed with Shoto.

But not this time.

Izuku shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly uncomfortable, and paused when Touya laughed again. “You know, he’s only doing this because he’s scared.”

“What? About the—” Izuku paused, remembering those standing nearby, “— the Moon?”

Touya shrugged. “My brother’s got a fragile heart, shula. But you knew that already, didn’t you?” He grinned at Izuku, all teeth, slightly aggressive. Part of Izuku wanted to growl at him, put him in his place, and the other part was a little frightened by the way Touya stared him down, as if he were the threat. “He’s scared about losing you. Always has been. But now it’s real. Now, it could happen.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Izuku grumbled. His arms prickled when Touya chuckled, low and angry.

His smile was sharper than any words said, any glare given. Something danced along his tongue, traced the outline of his canine. But then, he leaned away.

“One day, you’ll grow up. Just like one day Shoto will grow up. Then maybe you’ll see.”

The insult, for Touya certainly meant it as an insult, warmed Izuku’s face. He wanted to snap back at the alpha, but knew he would just be proving the point if he did. So he let those words go, let the silence speak for him, and when Touya shrugged and walked away, he let them go.

Then, when he was alone, he growled and snapped his teeth.

Chapter Text

The moon hung above them even during the daylight hours, a hungry eye peering through the branches of the trees. Waiting for the festivities to come. The pack buzzed with anticipation and apprehension, a strange mixture that roiled through the village like floodwaters. People stepped as if worried a snake might appear under their feet. They kept their eyes wide and searching. And yet, everywhere he looked, Izuku saw smiles and heard a light rain of laughter and cheer. But even then, the laughter was a bit too loud, a bit too sharp.

Nothing about the atmosphere improved Izuku’s mood.

Since his confrontation with Shoto and Touya, he hadn’t spoken with either brother, nor had they reached out to him. Shoto’s absence wore on him like an open sore, one he kept picking at. He was so used to the alpha being nearby that he would find himself looking for Shoto without thinking, catching himself before wondering where he’d gone.

For a time after their fight, Izuku had tried to keep a smile on his face, keep pretenses up. But as the days wore on, he retreated into himself, and then finally retreated into his mother’s nest.

He stepped into the dwelling without announcing himself, knowing Toshinori would not be there but that his mother would be. She was preparing for the Moon, or, rather, she had insisted on doing some of the preparation in Izuku’s stead. When he arrived, he found her sitting in the center of the pack alpha’s dwelling, weaving a robe for Izuku to wear during the Moon. Clothes worn during the Moon were typically discarded either during the Moon itself or shortly after. They were meant to be thin, fleeting, ephemeral in design.

Izuku had never been exceedingly good at weaving or sewing or any sort of tailoring, despite his mother’s and several other tutors’ efforts. Some had attributed it to his being male, but his mother had always simply sighed and said it was because he was terrible at focusing. There was always too much on his mind to pay attention to what his hands were doing. Luckily, she was rather skilled where he was not. So when she had offered to make his clothes for him, he’d agreed.

That had been days ago. She was just making the finishing touches when he arrived, the robes a pile of light, shimmering material, like a veil ready to be placed over a bride, or a shroud to cover the dead. Inko glanced up as Izuku approached, smiled initially, then frowned as he knelt next to her. When he leaned toward her, she opened her arms, pulled him into her lap as if he were still just a little pup, and purred quietly when he buried himself in her stomach.

In that moment, he wasn’t the aeon omega of an entire pack. He wasn’t the son of the pack alpha. In that moment, he was simply a pup being comforted by his mother.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

Izuku grumbled into her clothes.

“Oh, I see,” she laughed, stroking his head. “You look exhausted, dear.”

To this, he sat up, reluctant as he was to leave his mother’s arms. “I’m fine.”

Inko smiled softly, reached out to cup his face in her hand. “Go lay down. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

The Moon was rising tomorrow. Tomorrow, Izuku would act as solemn guard for his pack. He would be aeon omega and solemn guard. The weight of the thought made him want to collapse into his mother again.

Instead, he said, “I’ll be okay.”

Inko patted his knee. “Go rest,” she said softly, but Izuku knew it was a command. She had always given him orders like invitations, soft and encouraging, but with a quiet air of expectation.

Whether or not he wanted to admit it, he knew he needed the rest. And that was really the only reason he nodded, rose, and went to snuggle into his mother’s nest.

His mother built her nests much like he did, overflowing with soft cushions and pillows that could be buried into, that pressed in around him with a weight that reminded him of the press of his pack against him in the communal nest. But where people had fears, expectations, and he had obligations to those people, there was no such things with pillows. Instead, he could lay amongst them and feel secure and safe and not quite like he was alone without having to keep up a front.

The nest smelled like his mother and his father. It smelled like home.

He didn’t expect to sleep. But he laid there for a while, let his breathing deepen, listened to the whisper of cloth being folded and sewn and weaved into place. In that time, he dozed off and on, content to stay concealed from the outside world.

Sometime later, he heard the beaded curtain leading into the dwelling clacking and heard his mother purr.

“Welcome back,” she whispered.

Izuku heard footsteps sweep along the floor. “Is he here?” Toshinori’s voice was equally soft.

“Resting,” his mother replied. Izuku could almost hear her lift her hand, gesture toward where he lay in the nest.

More footsteps, then the soft sweep of the curtain over the nest being pulled aside. Izuku stirred, intending to rise, wanting to meet his father, to tell him everything was okay. Before he could, his father pressed a hand to his head, combing fingers through his hair. Just as he’d done when he’d been little. Before he was anything but his son.

One day, Touya’s voice rose unbidden to his mind, and with it, Izuku opened his eyes, you’ll grow up.

“Rest well, my boy,” Toshinori whispered, and retreated. The curtain swung over the nest again, and Izuku listened as the alpha sat next to his mother, as they murmured to each other, keeping their voices too low for him to hear.

Perhaps Touya was right. Here he was sleeping in his mother’s nest like he was a pup when the pack needed him. Not everyone had the luxury of simply shutting out the world in a pile of pillows. He was already being so selfish, demanding to be the solemn guard for the Moon. He needed to do better than this.

The pressure of the cushions suddenly wasn’t as inviting as it had been. They weren’t comforting but suffocating, surrounding him with reasons why he was being selfish, why he was being a terrible aeon omega, a terrible person.

It was almost a relief to peel himself up, away from the nest, to crawl out into the light and step forward. He had a job to do. There was no time for rest.

Toshinori and his mother glanced over as he emerged. He saw a hint of concern from his mother, a slight crinkle at the edges of her eyes, and a small notion of curiosity from Toshinori’s open expression. He held a clay teapot and was arranging mugs for himself and Inko.

“Ah, good morning, my boy,” Toshinori nodded to the seat next to him. “Join us for tea.”

It wasn’t an order, but Izuku did as he’d been told anyway. It was his duty as aeon omega to obey his pack alpha, to set the example. The tea was lightly infused, mint and a hint of honey. He sipped carefully.

“How are you feeling?” Toshinori asked.

Izuku smiled as brightly as he could. “Good! Everything’s ready for the Moon tomorrow. Shouldn’t have any issues.”

As he spoke, Toshinori tilted his head slightly. He did that sometimes when he was confused about something, though Izuku wasn’t quite sure what there was to be confused about. When the alpha simply looked at him, he managed a smile again, realizing that he’d let the first one slip.

“I’m okay,” he said, and this time, Toshinori shared a glance with his mother.

“Well, I suppose that’s good to hear,” the pack alpha finally acquiesced. “If everything’s ready then you’ll have the rest of the day to relax.”

“Oh, uh, there were a few things I wanted to do,” Izuku said hurriedly. He buried himself in his tea so he wouldn’t have to continue.

Again, his parents glanced at each other. They were having one of their silent conversations, spoken in small lines along their faces, little sparks in their eyes. Izuku had never understood how they did it. Even with Shoto, he’d never quite managed to read him right when he was trying to say something without words, and Shoto seemed incapable of understanding the meaning of subtle looks that anyone gave him, including Izuku. The only silent communication he’d ever quite managed with anyone was in training, in combat, and that had less to do with communicating and more to do with knowing how those around him fought, how to move around a battlefield efficiently.

There was no such battlefield in that moment, none that Izuku could see anyway, but his parents conducted a silent conversation within the space of a couple of breaths. Then, a decision was somehow made and they turned to him at the same time.

His father cleared his throat, a clear indication of a lecture to come. Izuku poured himself some more tea, knowing it might be a while.

“My boy, perhaps you should reconsider your involvement in the Moon tomorrow.” Izuku couldn’t stifle a groan but kept quiet when Toshinori raised a hand, asking for silence, “You don’t have to participate as solemn guard. You don’t have to take on that responsibility. And besides that, I’m – we’re – worried about you.”

“I don’t know why,” the words leaped from his tongue before Izuku could stop them, “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I can look after myself, and I can look after the others.”

“Yes, I know you can,” Toshinori said, pausing when Inko laid a hand on his elbow.

“But you don’t have to,” she added.

Somehow, those words wormed into his head, dug through all the defenses he’d put up. They made him forget that he should have been smiling, made his fingers clench around his mug. You don’t have to.

Izuku stared into his tea. Intellectually, he knew his mother hadn’t meant to lie to him. That she truly believed that he didn’t have to do anything. But that didn’t make it any less of a lie. It didn’t make her words any less hurtful, any less manipulative. And there was nothing he could say in response to those words. Nothing at all.

Aware of his parents watching him, Izuku finished his tea in several, scalding gulps. Then, he stood. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and slipped out the dwelling, ignoring when his mother called his name.

- - -

Through the trees, Katsuki could see the pale face of the moon, even during the daylight. There was a small comfort in that, in knowing beyond the canopy pressing in around him, the sky was still there. It had not fallen to meet the tops of the trees, but still stretched beyond.

Even if his world was smaller than it had once been, the world itself wasn’t any smaller. There was only a small comfort to take in that, but Katsuki took it nonetheless.

They had been walking for some time, traveling through the strange pack’s territory. It was a rather large territory, all things considered. Katsuki was surprised that the pack held territory so vast seemingly without much conflict. If there had been conflict, he would have expected to run into patrolling alphas by that point, but there had been no signs of anyone. The land around them was unguarded, and yet squarely under the control of the pack hidden somewhere within.

There were a couple of reasons Katsuki could think for this, one being that there were no packs nearby that could rival the strength or size of this pack, which seemed possible, or that the pack had claimed territory that wasn’t worth fighting over, which seemed less likely. The fact they were walking through territory belonging to an assumedly large and powerful pack made the back of Katsuki’s neck prickle. He glanced around frequently, waiting for the attack that was surely coming. Surely they would be found and ambushed, just as he had been in the past. Surely they would be discovered and a fight would ensue. In that fight, Katsuki wasn’t sure he could count on Skull-Face and Solid to back him up in any way. It might just be him.

So to say he was a little on edge might have been an understatement. When Skull-Face stepped on a branch, snapping it, Katsuki snarled deeply.

“Keep quiet,” he growled.

Skull-Face snarled back. “You don’t order me around, you shut up!”

Katsuki snatched him by the collar, dragging him close to his teeth, lifting a sparking hand toward his face. Skull-Face went still and Solid swayed, not quite ready to leap into a fight with him but certainly considering it.

Katsuki bared his teeth at both of them. “When I tell you to keep quiet,” he hissed, “I mean it. Got it?”

For a second, he thought Skull-Face was actually going to fight him. But when he opened his mouth, his lip trembled, and he nodded, once. Katsuki held onto him for a moment longer before shoving him away. Skull-Face stumbled and might have growled something under his breath but Katsuki ignored him, taking the lead. He didn’t particularly like having those two at his back, but he didn’t trust them anymore to avoid obvious traps. So he led them through the forest as best he could, their progress slow and methodical, still following the river.

They hadn’t gone much farther when Solid made a soft noise, drawing everyone’s attention. He gestured into some brush, Katsuki thinking he’d seen something move within them, until he realized that there was a hollow beneath the leaves. Solid lifted the branches aside, allowing Katsuki and Skull-Face into the space. It was quite a bit larger than expected, but filled with half-filled holes. It reminded Katsuki faintly of collapsed burrows that could be found out where his pack had once lived. Huge tunnel systems dug out by smaller animals were sometimes completely ruined by predators, leaving behind only sunken earth and ruined holes where burrows had once been. He didn’t know enough about the forest to know if that’s what this was, or if it was something else entirely.

In any case, he didn’t think it was something that the pack had built, so it was possible nobody knew about it. A good place to hunker down, to rest and relax and wait to see if anyone walked past.

Solid positioned himself near the entrance, glaring out between the leaves to make sure nobody had seen them disappear into the hollow while Skull-Face sunk to the floor, letting out a sigh and flinging his hands behind his head, as if he intended to take a nap.

Katsuki knelt on the opposite side of the entrance from Solid, peering out. While the brush covered most of their view, it didn’t obscure it completely and they would be able to hear if anyone walked by.

“This is a good spot,” Solid said, and Katsuki grunted. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was.

They were still sitting at the entrance when there was movement beyond the leaves.

Katsuki tensed and Solid leaned forward, eyes dilating to get a better look at who it was. Then, he relaxed.

“It’s that beta,” he growled, and Katsuki leaned forward.

Sure enough, he recognized the smug look on the beta’s face as he approached.

“Evening, boys,” Jest waved as he forced himself into the burrow, ignoring when Solid gave him a nasty look. “Nice little spot you’ve found here.”

“What are you doing here?” Skull-Face, of course, asked the wrong question.

Katsuki made sure to ask the right one: “How are you here right now?”

Jest turned that famous grin to him. “I knew I liked you.” He moved farther into the burrow without answering either question. “There’s a reason I’m Alpha’s only scout. I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing. See if you’d been caught yet.”

While Skull-Face and Solid bristled under the beta’s scrutiny, Katsuki was thinking about Alpha employing only one scout. How Jest had said there was no extra weight in Alpha’s pack; if Jest was a part of it, it was because he was useful. And Jest had already said that Alpha didn’t have high hopes for them.

Which meant—

Katsuki let his teeth click together. “Cut the crap. You’re here on your own mission. It’s got nothing to do with us.”

Jest’s grin widened to that scorpion smile. “Maybe.” He nodded for Katsuki to join him. “Alpha’s heard quite a bit about this pack. He wants to know if what he’s heard is true or not. You’re part of it. Depending on the caliber of omega you bring back, that could tell him a lot about the pack. And, if you fail, then he has me to give him the information he really wants.”

“So you’re just the backup plan?” Even Solid sounded skeptical.

Jest made a thoughtful noise. “There is a backup plan, but I wouldn’t say that I’m anyone’s backup. I’m the scout remember? Front line.” Skull-Face growled at him, puffing up his chest in a dominating sort of way, but Jest didn’t seem to even notice. “Anyway, I’m here helping you boys out, so I wouldn’t be so hostile. I’m the only friend you have out here, remember?”

“According to what Alpha told us, you shouldn’t even be here,” Solid countered.

Jest shrugged. “I don’t know what Alpha told you. But I do remember telling you that Alpha wouldn’t give you the whole truth. Why would he bother until you prove yourself?”

Skull-Face’s growl deepened to a grimace. He sulked to the entrance and sat there, peering out between the branches, no doubt hoping an incredibly beautiful and powerful omega happened to walk by for him to snatch.

Everyone else ignored his little pity party.

“So,” Jest intertwined his fingers and leaned his head back into his palms, “have you learned anything interesting yet?”

Solid waited to see if someone else would speak, but Katsuki was content to let things play out, to gather what he could from the conversation and to let the two idiots prove themselves as idiots. So it was Solid who answered, “We’ve just found this burrow to use. We’ll plan to keep an eye out and watch for passing pack members. Then, if an omega walks by, we’ll collect her.”

“Oh I see,” Jest didn’t sound all that impressed. “Well, if you find out anything juicy you’ll let me know, yes?” He cast a glance toward Katsuki, then to Solid and Skull-Face, his eyes sweeping between them as if they were one unit. But it was Katsuki he turned to as he reached into his pack. “Here. Got some things for you. Figured you wouldn’t have had time to hunt anything.”

He withdrew several strips of jerky, which he handed to Katsuki. Solid watched the transaction with narrowed eyes and Skull-Face had the gall to lick his lips. Katsuki stored the food immediately in his pack.

“Thought we were a lost cause. Why are you feeding us?”

“Call it a hunch,” Jest smiled between the three of them, “but I think you’ll be making things a bit more interesting around here. And I’m in need of some entertainment.”

“How nice of you,” Katsuki growled, but he detected something else in their transaction.

Betas were usually the hunters of the group. They provided first to the omegas, as was tradition, then to the alphas, always in order of top alpha to bottom. In a subtle way, he was already placing Katsuki ahead of the other two, feeding him rather than them.

He was aligning his loyalties in a way that made Katsuki think he was playing a much deeper game than any of them could see. Something was off.

As much as Katsuki didn’t trust Jest, he knew he didn’t have a choice but to rely on him. Jest’s support was probably his best chance at getting into the pack. All he had to do now was carry out Alpha’s orders and not get killed by the two other morons. Which was more and more likely. He didn’t miss the way the two were watching him, how they, too, had picked up on the subtle ways that Jest treated him over the others. Jest was playing all three of them against one another.

Briefly, Katsuki wondered if Alpha had purposefully sent the beta for this very purpose. To sow discontent. To force them into a situation where only one would survive.

When Alpha is displeased, he’s known to trim off what he considers dead weight.

That had been Jest’s warning to him. The start of his little game.

Fine. If he wanted to play a game, Katsuki would. But he let Jest know exactly who was in charge, lifting his chin and snarling the beta down. Jest grinned back at him, but eventually dipped his head to the side as way of submitting to Katsuki, but only just. There was no tilt of his head, no opening his throat to Katsuki. Just a slight acknowledgement that, at least in this moment, he was the alpha and Jest was only the beta.

It would be enough.

Katsuki released the beta with a snort, leaning back and away from him as Jest stood as much as he could in the burrow. “I’ll be checking in if I don’t hear from you in the next few days,” the beta sounded quite relaxed about the entire situation. To him, it was just a game, after all. Entertainment. He flashed a toothed grin to Skull-Face and Solid, ignoring when they tried to growl at him. “Good luck, boys. Don’t disappoint us, hmm?”

And with that, he slipped out the entrance and disappeared into the forest.

- - -

His mother came to wake him in the morning.

The morning of the Moon.

The morning Izuku would spend as solemn guard for his pack.

The morning that he’d been waiting, dreading, anticipating, for so long.

She heralded the morning by whispering his name, as if the first line of a lullaby, a gentle hand along his back. “It’s morning,” she said, “the others will be gathering soon.”

Sleep lifted from his bones. Izuku was suddenly buzzing with energy. The morning had come.

The Moon was rising.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking awake. Inko was sitting at the edge of his nest, controlling her face with a smile. Izuku knew her well enough to notice how it didn’t reach her eyes, how it trembled slightly.

“Good morning,” he greeted, stepping out of his nest and out into the morning light. He thought about saying something else, about trying to assuage her concerns. But he had already said everything he could think of.

After that day, he wouldn’t have to convince her of anything. It would be over.

The Moon was rising.

Although Izuku had been aware of the thought upon waking, he felt it in his bones. Not as words, but as a certainty. The Moon was rising.

He felt it so suddenly that he stopped, half pulled to stand, half too afraid to do so. Caught in the middle, he tilted his head to listen, to try to hear something else amongst the rising tremble in his bones. There had to be something more in the call. Something else.

Inko’s hand on his cheek startled him out the trance. She was smiling a little more genuinely.

“It’s calling to you, isn’t it?” She asked.

Izuku blinked, not quite sure how to answer.

Inko sighed, brushing a curl of hair out of his face. “It’s never happened to you before, has it? It happens sometimes. The moon, I mean. It calls to us. Usually when something is about to change.” Her gaze strayed and she bit her lip. “I suppose after today, things will change. Your first Moon! You must be excited.”

It felt a little disingenuous, but Izuku knew she meant it. He had always been kept from the Moons. For his own safety, for the safety of the others. But because of it, he’d never been quite as the other omegas. Never been fully initiated amongst their ranks. Always apart. Always alone.

As the aeon omega, that was how it was meant to be.

Even as the moon called to him, Izuku felt a bit of fear swelling in his throat. He only just swallowed it down.

“I am doing the right thing?”

The words flowed so naturally. A question he had been silently asking since he’d made the decision to participate, before even telling his father.

Inko blinked at him. She hadn’t been anticipating the question. Somehow, that confirmed his worst fears.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” he said, his throat closing, his eyes welling. “I’ve been doing it all wrong for a long time, haven’t I?”

“Doing what wrong?” She kept her voice low and quiet. Even then, Izuku would have heard her, could have found her in a crowd of people. Her voice held more power over him than anything else.

That was why he needed her to say it. To tell him he was doing this wrong. To tell him how he should be doing it. All of it.

“Everything,” he said. Inko reached forward to wipe the first tears that fell, but she otherwise let him cry. “The Moon and being aeon and being the pack alpha son. Being your son. I’m doing it wrong, but I don’t know how to do it right.”

One day, you’ll grow up, Touya had told him.

“I’m still just a kid,” Izuku said, and watched his mother’s face crumble inward.

She didn’t need to say it for him to know that she agreed. That she saw him as a child still, even though he was courting age, even though he was aeon. Even though he should have grown up by now.

Inko cupped his face in her hands and did her best to smile. “You don’t have to do it right,” she told him, “you just have to try.”

“It’s not enough.”

Inko smiled. This time, it was real. It touched her eyes, until she sparkled. She even laughed, relief spilling from her shoulders. “I may not know everything, but I do know this, Izuku,” she said his name as tenderly as she ever had. Izuku closed his eyes, savoring the way she said it. Nobody would ever say his name the way she did. Even without her having to say anything else, he felt himself bowing forward, letting go of everything. She held him up, as she always had. “You’re more than enough. Do you hear me? You’re always enough.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. He didn’t even really quite know what she meant. But he nodded, chose to believe her, because he knew that she knew best. She always had.

Inko held him for a moment longer, but once he had calmed, she stepped away, giving him the space to clean his face and take a deep breath. As he did, she reached into a bag he hadn’t noticed at her waist and pulled out a familiar whisper-thin robe.

It was like a veil, meant to be worn over his clothes and yet cover him completely. It was the tradition shroud of the solemn guard, the robe that would have been worn by an alpha any other time, as they sat and oversaw the Moon. Toshinori had worn one once, but where most solemn guards were wrapped in gray, his had been startlingly red. Izuku remembered not liking the shroud that much, as it had made Toshinori appear to be covered in blood.

The robe Inko gave to him was the same gray as any other solemn guard shroud, but when he took it, he heard the subtle clicking of beads. He fanned it out, and saw that, like his rock eagle coat, the shroud was covered in beads, enough for each of their pack.

Inko brushed her hand over the beads, letting them clack along her nails. “I wanted you to have them with you,” she said, still smiling, “so you know you’re never alone.”

Never alone. That was the curse wasn’t it? To never be alone, but to only have a couple hundred beads pressing against his back as a reminder.

Still, Izuku smiled. “Thank you. It’s wonderful.” Inko’s smile pained a little. She waited for him to change, slipping into plain leggings and a thin tunic, both of which had been given to him for the purpose of the Moon. They were unembellished and after that night, he would never wear them again. Once he had changed, Inko stepped forward with the shroud, taking his coat from him and helping to settle the shroud over his shoulders. It floated around him, trailing after him wherever he moved, like smoke in his wake. The beads at his back kept it from slipping too far, from falling away.

Inko stepped back, playing with the tassels of his coat between her fingers. “It looks good.” He could tell she was getting nervous again.

Before she spiraled too much, Izuku leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “I should join the others.”

“You’ll do great, sweetheart,” she said, even though Izuku wouldn’t actually be doing much.

Still, he echoed her forced smile. “Thanks.”

He left before he could think to say anything more, before she thought of anything to pull him back. The shroud flowed around him, caught the breeze as he stepped out into the morning air.

Immediately, he felt the pack shift. The pack always revolved around him, but somehow, this was different. He stepped out, and the shroud lifted around him and the pack turned to watch. Scores of people, hundreds of eyes, following the flow of his veil. He kept his face controlled, lifting the shroud up and over his head. It tinged his world gray, as if it were all fading away. But the pressure of those eyes on him didn’t fade. If anything, it grew more intense, as the glint of those eyes was the only thing bright through the shroud.

With a small nod to acknowledge those nearby, Izuku went to join the others gathering at the edge of the village.

He noticed first that his father was there, waiting for him. Toshinori stood tall and proud, as he always did, but when he spotted Izuku, something pained overcame his expression. It smoothed away in a blink, but Izuku saw it.

In his hands, Toshinori held a clay mask. Another piece that the solemn guard wore. It was meant to block their face, to make them a blank canvas. The solemn guard was meant to be a spirit, watching over the omegas. But in reality, it was usually an alpha, with a clay mask over their face and a shroud like smoke flitting around them.

As Izuku approached, Toshinori gripped the mask tightly. For a moment, Izuku worried whether or not his father would give it to him. Behind the pack alpha, dozens were watching. Mostly omegas, but the chosen alpha and beta guards were watching.

Izuku counted them out, his most trusted alphas: Shoto and Tenya, of course, Touya and Tensei, as the oldest children of the pillar families, a former solemn guard called Kenji, and the pack’s strongest beta Kirishima. They were all young, but alphas were known to wear themselves out quickly. Kenji, as the eldest of the group, moved with a certain creaking step about him, as if he were trying not to favor one leg over the other. But he was still strong and Izuku trusted him as a former solemn guard to know how to protect the grounds. As for the others, they were natural picks. And among the alphas, Izuku had needed Kirishima there. Even as a beta, he was incredibly strong and he would be able to keep the alphas from infighting too much. Touya especially. He enjoyed picking on Tensei and Tenya, since they were so easy to spin up.

Izuku trusted them all to protect the pack. But he still knew that, should something happen, he would be the one to have to answer. And facing everyone, he didn’t know if he really would be able to save them, if they called for him.

The ground felt unsteady under Izuku’s feet. He took in a deep breath, tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t stop the terrible feeling swelling in his gut. Maybe it would be best if his father didn’t give him the clay mask. If instead he turned and handed it to Kenji, as was right.

Maybe he was still doing everything wrong. No matter what his mother had said.

But as Izuku’s courage wore away, he caught the shine of an alpha’s eyes over his father’s shoulder. Touya was standing there, watching him, his arms crossed. Just as he had after the fight with Shoto. He had the same tilt to his head. But his smile was different. It was settled in a strange way. When Izuku met his gaze, he nodded, once. A challenge as much as it was an acknowledgement.

One day, you’ll grow up.

Izuku lifted his chin, nodded to his father. Toshinori did not look anymore certain, but he nodded back, and held out the clay mask.

“Embody the strength of the spirits that protect our pack well,” he spoke the words as he had every Moon before, but he hesitated and added, “and I wish you a happy and full moon.”

Izuku had reached for the mask, but froze when his father told him this. Something else hitched in his throat when Toshinori smiled at him, when his father told him something without having to speak at all. His father told him he was proud, that everything would be okay and he knew this because Izuku would make sure everything was okay. His father trusted him.

Oh, this is what it’s like, Izuku thought, remembering how his parents had spoken to each other with only glances. He saw the words in his father’s eyes, read them as clearly as if Toshinori had written them down.

He wondered how long he hadn’t bothered to read the words so plainly for him in his father’s eyes.

When he took the clay mask and smiled at his father, it was an easier smile than any previous smile. He placed the mask over his head, working to align it so he could see through the eyes, but Toshinori took the mask and pulled it back from Izuku’s face, pinning it instead to the side, just slightly above his ear. Izuku blinked, but his father just smiled.

“I think the pack will feel better seeing your face,” he said, and with that, they were ready.

The Moon was calling to them, and they answered it.

Chapter Text

Something changed as the day went on. Katsuki didn’t know what it was, but he felt it, the strange prickling just under his skin, just where he couldn’t itch. He saw it on Skull-Face and Solid as well, the sudden uncertainty of everything around them. Solid peered through the bushes of their hiding place, but there was nothing to see. Only by watching the others react did he realize it wasn’t just in his head. That something truly was happening.

So Katsuki pushed himself up. Skull-Face growled as he stepped past the other alpha and out into the open. He breathed in deep, tasted the air. They’d been hiding long enough for him to start picking out the subtle shifts in the air. The main village was south. He could smell it most when the wind blew from the south. But it wasn’t blowing from the south. It was coming in from the east, bringing with it the smell of dry rocks and ozone. A storm, perhaps. Far off. Far enough that Katsuki knew it wasn’t a storm that had changed. It was something else.

He looked up. The moon was bright over him. Night was falling quickly, the trees hiding the bruised sunset from him. But the darkness seeped into the trees as the sun slipped away. It was getting late. And something had changed.

Solid stepped out of the hollow and stood next to him. For as unfriendly as they were, they stood together, staring out into the forest, searching for what was wrong. But neither of them could tell. Katsuki searched for Jest between the trees, but he somehow knew the beta wasn’t nearby. This wasn’t his doing. It wasn’t part of his game.

After a time, Solid growled into the dark. “Let’s go back,” he said.

At first, Katsuki thought he meant go back to Alpha, leave the territory. But Solid just slipped back into their hollow, Skull-Face growling out a series of questions as he did. Katsuki lingered.

He opened his mouth and breathed in deep.

The night was wetter than he was used to. The scents didn’t move through the air as sharply. Everything was muted, dull. He couldn’t tell if the change was normal. But he did catch new scents. As if the village had somehow gotten closer. He surveyed the forest one more time, before he went back into the hollow himself.

It was going to be a long night of waiting. Waiting for their chance. Waiting to see if there would be a chance.

And in the morning, if they had found nothing, he knew something would have to change then. Something drastic.

He settled back in his spot deep in the hollow and shut his eyes, wondering if by the morning, there wouldn’t be three of them left.

- - -

It took half a day to travel to the waterfall. Their march was slow, but purposefully so, ensuring both the youngest and oldest could keep up. Their youngest was thirteen cycles gone, their oldest over sixty. The rest were a mix, but mostly around Izuku’s age. Whatever their age, they were all together, whispering to each other, laughing with each other, excited to be with each other.

The only ones who stood apart were the guards. The alphas, Eijiro, and Izuku. It was the solemn guard’s job to lead the way, so Izuku walked at the front. Kenji stood close at his back, ensuring he was following the right path, but never stepping in front of him. For a long time, Izuku walked alone at the head of the group.

Then, footsteps behind him, and a body at his right. He didn’t need to look to know it was Shoto, just a step behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said quietly.

Shoto didn’t reply immediately. Then, “Yeah. I am too.”

It wasn’t as simple as those few words, but it was a start. And it felt so good to have Shoto at his side, to know the alpha was there.

“Walk with me?” Izuku asked, even though Shoto already was.

The alpha nodded once. “Always.”

Something warmed tipped into Izuku’s chest. He and Shoto had grown up together, had always had each other. One never far from the other. The past few days without him had been harder than he’d expected. Painful, even. And it was ridiculous how easily it was fixed simply by having him take his rightful spot again, with only a few words spoken between them to mend the rift.

Maybe it was the moon rising or the presence of so many omegas. Or maybe Izuku was finally willing to realize that he needed to make certain decisions, as his mother had so plainly put it. But something in that moment gave him the courage to clear his throat.

“Hey Sho,” Izuku asked.

“Yeah?”

“If I asked, would you stay with me forever?”

The alpha was quiet. Izuku let the silence settle. He didn’t know what else to say beyond what he had already asked.

They walked on for some time, the omegas rustling and giggling and whispering amongst themselves, and the guards sweeping the area, looking for signs of trouble. Izuku and Shoto at their lead. Their pace easy, natural. Meant to be, in one way or another.

Finally, Shoto glanced over at Izuku. “I didn’t realize that wasn’t already the plan.”

Izuku blinked. And he realized that maybe Shoto hadn’t quite understood the full implications of what he had asked. But instead of clarifying, he simply smiled. “I guess it is.”

“It’s okay to fight sometimes,” Shoto went on, “as long as you come together on even footing. Fuyumi taught me that.”

“She’s very wise.”

“She has to be.”

Izuku hummed, not quite sure how else to respond.

“So don’t worry. Even if we fight, I’ll always be there with you. Whatever happens.”

That warm feeling again. But somehow, it just made Izuku sad. He smiled up at the alpha. “You know I’ll be there for you too, right?”

Shoto blinked. “Yes,” he said, as if he was still slightly confused. After another moment of walking, he asked, “What’s brought this about?”

“I missed you,” Izuku murmured.

Shoto shifted slightly, just enough for Izuku to realize he’d nearly stumbled, caught himself just in time. The alpha wrinkled his nose and sighed. “I did too. But I needed some time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You’ll be okay.”

Izuku didn’t respond. He knew those words weren’t for him. They were for Shoto, to convince him of it.

“Nothing will happen,” Shoto continued.

To this, Izuku smiled. “Well, a lot is going to happen.” He waited for Shoto to meet his gaze and shrugged. “But nothing bad. Just a lot of omegas running wild under the full moon. What could possibly go wrong, hmm?”

- - -

They arrived just after midday, and the sight of the clearing nearly took Izuku’s breath away.

It had been so long that he had forgotten just how beautiful it was, even outside his memory. He’d always told himself his memory of the place had made it what it was: an ethereal paradise. But standing before it again, he saw that it was all still true.

The ridge rose up before them, taller than any other tree in the forest. Above, there was a faint roar, the sound of water crashing upon the rocks, cascading down to meet the earth. But the ridge was split, the upper half blade-thin, teeth marked along the sky. The lower half was like the gums of the ridge, thick and rolling, smooth and sturdy. The water tossed itself off the tallest tips, crashed into the basin of the lower half of the ridge. From there, Izuku knew most of it drained into the ridge, into a deep cavern that flowed through the earth. The rest? The rest trickled down in a soft, murmuring stream from above.

It was this waterfall that the group gathered around, the soft tinkle of the water splashing into the shallow pool at the ridge’s base. From that pool, water flow off toward the river, only a few minutes’ walk away. The water was clear and flowed in soft ripples, always moving but never fast. Just a gentle pull toward the greater, the powerful river that would carry it off.

Fed by the waterfall, a field of grass spread out before them, and trees with long, thin branches dipped toward the water, or thick, tangled roots dug deep into the ground. It was a playground, huddled around this little pool of water. The canopy above closed in overhead, save for a small opening where the moon peered through. Beyond the clearing, the forest was theirs. The same trees and brush they knew from everywhere else, but somehow better. Fed by the waterfall, by the quiet afforded that place.

It was paradise. As much as there could ever be a paradise.

While Izuku and the omegas stood, transfixed by the grounds that would serve as their own territory for the night, Kenij stepped forward. He swept his head side to side in an exaggerated fashion; Izuku knew it was for the benefit of the others more than for himself. Seemingly satisfied with his survey, Kenji stood to his full height.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped himself and turned to face Izuku. “Shula?”

Izuku nearly jolted, realizing the older alpha was looking for direction from him. In fact, when he looked, everyone was watching him. Waiting for his orders.

Aeon and solemn guard. He’d signed up for it, but the weight of his posts was settling on him much heavier than he was expecting.

Still, he managed to smile. “We’ll rest and have food together. Then, once it starts getting dark, the guards will take their place. And when the moon rises, the night will be yours.” He spoke mostly to the omegas, bowing his head to them as any other solemn guard would have.

The omegas shifted between themselves, glancing between him and the others.

It took Touya clapped his hands together for anyone else to move. “I’m starved. Let’s eat.”

They had packed enough food to last a couple of days. They wouldn’t need it all, of course, but they had all wanted to be prepared. Just in case.

And, just in case, Izuku glanced over his shoulder, scanning the grounds around them. He was reminded of that night at the communal nest, watching shadows drifting through the trees in the storm. The shadows there were less sinister, but still haunting. Izuku did his best to ignore the prickle along his arms when one of the omegas asked him a question.

As much as he was aware of the shadows, he was also aware of their guards. The alphas and Eijiro kept vigil over them, often turning their backs to the omegas to face the forest, searching them for intruders. Anyone who came upon the clearing would fall under the full might of their guards, and every single one of them were ready for that possibility.

It occurred to Izuku as he settled on a large blanket that he didn’t know which of the guards was aware of the rogue spotting. Tenya and Tensei would, as Izuku knew they’d both been out to search the farther parts of their territory. Touya and Shoto, of course. But did Kenji? Did Eijiro? They both seemed on edge, but he didn’t know if that was simply because they were taking their duty seriously or they knew there was a heightened potential for danger.

“Izuku.”

Izuku startled at his name, noticing the bowl Shoto was offering him. It was filled with a collage of vegetables, smoked and boiled and sprouting various shades of green, red, and yellow. Alongside it, Izuku noticed a fold of thin meat, not quite the tough jerky the alphas took while traveling, but something close.

“It’s smoked boar,” Shoto answered Izuku’s questioning glance. “You’ll need it to keep your focus.”

Izuku hummed noncommittally. He noticed not everyone had been given boar. When no one was looking, he slipped it into the bowl of the youngest omega, who turned back to her food and blinked in confusion at the addition.

Once their meal was over, the omegas napped in the sunlight, preparing for the long night under the moon. The guards took turns keeping watch, though the alphas insisted that Izuku and Eijiro both rest longer. Somehow, nestled amongst the omegas in that small bit of paradise, Izuku dozed easily. Unlike the communal nest, he felt the presence of his packmates without the responsibility of them. They were simply there, with him, and he with them.

But that didn’t last.

Eventually, the sun fell. It dipped toward the horizon, hiding behind the trees and painting the sky a blushing pink before deepening into shadowed purples and finally deep water blues. Staring up into it, Izuku thought he might be able to sink into the sky, enveloped by the stars that twinkled.

The only thing that kept him grounded was the moon. As the sun faded, the moon opened its face to them, grinning down on them with light like bright teeth. The moonlight caused a stir amongst the omegas. They each began to rise, one by one, lifting their heads to the moon, exposing their throats as if in submission to it. Even Izuku felt the pull of the moon, but when he sat up, he simply cast a glance to the other guards.

“It’s time,” he said, and the alphas and Eijiro nodded.

Kenji shared a glance with each of them, and the alphas and Eijiro went out into the forest, fanning out to surround the grounds of the Moon. The older alpha waited until they had slipped into the trees, then turned to Izuku.

“Are you sure?”

Izuku knew what he was asking without having to clarify. Was he sure he wanted to do this? If he wanted, he could have handed the shroud and the mask to Kenji and left him as solemn guard for the night.

It was an intoxicating offer. He was already on the grounds, already under the Omega Moon, surrounded by his fellow omegas. It would have been so easy to shrug off the responsibility of solemn guard, to join the omegas as simply one of them under the moon, to enjoy the night as any other omega.

But it wasn’t that simple. Not for him. The choice before him was an illusion. Because even if he gave the shroud and the mask to Kenji, he would never quite be as the other omegas. He would never fit with them.

So he smiled and shook his head. “I’ll keep watch here.”

Something flashed through Kenji’s eyes. At first Izuku thought it was disappointment, but when he noticed the slight curve of the alpha’s lip, he realized it was pride.

“Good,” Kenji said, “I’ll keep watch and keep close.” And with that, he followed the other guards into the forest, disappearing like a shadow.

When they were all gone, the omegas turned to Izuku. They were a mix of excited and apprehensive and confused, each of them waiting for him. He had a duty to uphold.

Izuku turned toward the rippling pool of water at the base of the waterfall. As he approached, he saw the slight rise in the water, a circular rock that just peered out, as if to watch what happened in the clearing. Izuku waded through the pool, only ankle deep that close to the shore, and stepped up onto the rock. He knelt, running his hand over its surface, wondering how many solemn guards had sat right where he was before, how many of them had been omegas.

Then, he settled there, adjusting the mask on his face so it slipped down a little more, covering enough of his face to signify that he was embodying the role he was meant to serve.

Somehow, that was all the signal the omegas needed.

They howled in relief and joy and excitement and scattered, some of them rushing into the woods while others chased their friends around the clearing and a couple jumped into the pool, splashing about and laughing. The forest filled with the howls and laughter of his pack.

And as it did, Izuku felt centered. Peaceful. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if he were exactly where he had always meant to be. The omegas circled around him. But they paid him little attention, caught up in their own world.

The Moon settled over them, and Izuku allowed himself to breathe in deeply, to relax into his seat and close his eyes, listening to the gurgling of the waterfall behind him and the unfettered joy of his pack before him.

- - -

All three alphas heard it at the same time.

A rising howl not far away. Several voices, all joined together. Then, the forest was suddenly alive. It writhed above their hollow, filled with sudden movement and sound.

Skull-Face snarled eagerly, pressing himself toward the entrance. Somehow, Katsuki knew before the other alpha smiled.

Omegas.

The forest was filled with their prey.

Skull-Face pulled several bands of his leather slings from his sleeves and Solid stood, rolling his shoulders.

“It’s time,” he announced, which was stupid to say.

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

He felt focused. Honed. He had a mission, and that mission was finally coming to an end.

Something sour was rising in his mouth but he swallowed it down. When Skull-Face raced out of the hollow, giggling to himself, and Solid crept out soon after, Katsuki stood and followed them. The moon peered down at them through the trees.

For some reason, Katsuki swore that it was glaring at them, disappointed in them. The sour taste returned and this time, he didn’t bother to swallow it.

- - -

The forest was filled with life. Izuku listened as his packmates cheered and howled at the moon, as they laughed and raced around him. Some part of him wanted to join in the festivities, to spread out under the moon and soak in the silvery light. But for now, he was content. Happy to sit and to listen and to know that everything was well. That his pack was happy.

He sat and he listened, knowing that all was well.

- - -

Skull-Face saw them first.

There were three of them. Younger. Laughing. Playing together. They wore strange lightweight clothes that swirled around them like moonlight lifted from their skin. One was slightly out of pace from the others, not quite as athletic, not quite as sharp. She still laughed but her companions had to keep an eye on her, paying more attention to her than their surroundings. The second one was tall and lithely built, willowy and fragile. Her voice was loudest whenever she laughed. The third was quiet with quick eyes. Although she smiled, she also kept a close eye on her companions and their surroundings.

Naturally, she was the one who saw them first.

Skull-Face hissed in delight as the omegas pranced by, as the third one turned and spotted him. She stopped suddenly, startled by his appearance, especially when Solid slid out of the darkness next to him. She glanced between them, as if she couldn’t understand what was happening.

Then, the willowy omega screamed.

The sound split the air. Shattered the tension building between them all.

Skull-Face and Solid pounced.

And out in the forest, Katsuki heard a howl of fury, felt as his entire body locked onto the sound.

Something about it held his attention more than the commotion in front of him, of the alphas chasing after the omegas and the omegas racing to get away. Something in the sound was achingly familiar and distantly strange. He had never heard the voice before, but he would have sworn he’d heard it in his most precious memories.

The others hadn’t seemed to notice the answering howl. But Katsuki listened, heard how it had started getting louder as it had faded. They were coming.

As Skull-Face and Solid hunted their prey, Katsuki stayed hidden, waiting for what was coming next.

- - -

Izuku startled when he heard the scream.

He waited, his heart clenched, for the scream to turn into a laugh, for it to taper off like a joke. But it didn’t.

Someone was screaming. Someone was calling for him.

He was aware of the omegas around him stilling, staring, of the way the moon felt as if it had crashed down upon them. In the distance, he was aware of the alphas, nearby. But not close enough.

He was closest to the scream.

And besides. The omega was calling to him.

Izuku leaped up and howled in response, saying, I’m coming, I’m coming.

He raced into the forest.

- - -

The two other omegas scattered. Solid moved as if to follow but Skull-Face said, “Leave them.”

He was bent over the willowy omega. She was snarling and fighting. Her teeth were bared in fury and she had torn a long line of skin along Skull-Face’s arm in the struggle. Skull-Face was not as pleased as he had been only moments earlier. The omega had knocked him out of his stupor, and he was making sure to punish her. He had tied her wrists behind her back with one of his leather slings. He’d made sure to tie it tight enough to hurt. But the omega was still fighting him, still snarling.

Solid stared after the two omegas, who were screaming as they fled into the forest, but he eventually tore his gaze away and peered over Skull-Face’s shoulder. “She’s a good catch. Alpha will be pleased.”

The omega stilled and whimpered at the mention of Alpha. She whispered something that might have been a plea or might have been a curse.

None of the alphas paid much attention. Skull-Face was glaring down at the wounds on his arm and Solid had glanced up again. He swept his gaze side to side, as if looking for the omegas, then frowned.

“Where’d that blond guy go?”

Katsuki wasn’t paying much attention to them. He was staring into the dark of the forest, keeping himself concealed for now in the brush. When he listened, he heard the forest rustling, heard the approach of the real challenge.

His heart was racing. Everything within him was on edge. And yet, he still wasn’t quite ready when someone broke through the trees and drove a sword into Solid’s shoulder.

- - -

Izuku passed two omegas on his way. They screamed for him, pointing back the way they’d come.

“Miyu!” They yelled, and Izuku raced past them.

His nostrils were flared, taking in the scents of the forest. He’d picked up three distinct scents he recognized, the three omegas of his pack who had been carefree and happy only moments ago, now carrying the sour scent of terror with them.

And beyond that, he had caught the scent of others. Intruders.

Rogues.

So he was prepared when he broke through the last of the trees, when he spotted the looming form of an unknown alpha. The rogue blinked in shock as Izuku leaped from the trees. He hadn’t been expecting anyone. He wasn’t prepared.

Izuku unsheathed his sword and drove it forward.

He’d meant to run it straight through the rogue’s chest or neck, to stop him dead before he hurt anyone, but at the last moment, the alpha shifted, just enough that the sword pierced into his shoulder instead, catching bone.

The rogue howled in agony.

Movement caught Izuku’s eye and he swept the area, spying a second rogue crouched over the shivering form of his packmate. The omega was whimpering, her hands tied. The scent of her terror was overwhelming. Izuku opened his mouth and let out a scathing hiss.

He yanked the sword free and leaped to the side, dodging the retaliatory swing of the rogue’s arm. In a single sweep, he slung his sword at the second rogue and kicked hard at the first’s ankles. The first rogue, larger, sturdier than the other, collapsed under his own weight while the second gasped as the sword struck through his back. The second fell forward in a heap while the first howled in rage and tried to rise, but before he could, Izuku kicked him again, hard, in the face. The rogue fell back and lay still and silent.

A breath rattled through Izuku. The fight had lasted only a handful of seconds. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath the entire time. But it was over as quickly as it had begun and he stood amongst the carnage, shivering with tension. The moon seemed to tilt above him, stretching wider than it should be and there was a deep throbbing in his ears, the rush of his blood through his body.

A whimper cut through the panic ringing through his ears.

Miyu!

Izuku ran to her, pausing to yank his sword free from the rogue’s back. “Hold on.” He knelt next to her and carefully cut the leather cords binding her. She sat up, shaking just as much as he was, her eyes swelled with tears.

“Shula?” Her voice was small, far away.

Izuku tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “Go to the clearing. Your friends are—” he saw a glint in the bushes behind Miyu.

The glint of an eye, watching him. Alpha eyes.

As soon as their eyes met, the third rogue burst forward. Izuku barely had time to shove Miyu out of the way and raise his blade before the rogue was on him. He dug his heels in and gasped at the impact, feeling his blade catch on something, a hand grasping his wrist. Miyu shrieked but to Izuku’s relief, she ran off. As long as she was safe, it didn’t matter. Izuku could take care of this last rogue like he had the others.

He tried to yank back from the rogue, but they held onto him tightly. Something sparked between them, Izuku flinching away from the heat. In the flickering light, he spotted a large red eye, a grin of teeth, his wrist caught in a grip of calloused fingers. The rogue was bigger than he was, but not overwhelmingly so. He smelled like week-old sweat and rotting underbrush.

Izuku snarled at him and the rogue’s teeth flashed in the moonlight. He growled in response, but there was something oddly playful in it, as if the rogue was having fun.

“Let go!” Izuku jerked his wrist free and lost his grip on his sword. He heard it skitter off into the trees and took several steps back, getting a better view of his opponent.

To his surprise, the rogue didn’t follow him. In fact, he laughed as Izuku readied himself for a fight.

“You took them down quickly. That was impressive.” The rogue’s voice was surprisingly young, tinged a rough edge. Izuku blinked, trying to get a clearer image of him, but the rogue purposefully stayed in the shadows. All Izuku could really see was the smile splitting his face and the glint of one eye. “Who’re you supposed to be?”

“If you’re here to do harm,” Izuku snarled, “you’re not welcome.”

The rogue tilted his head. It wasn’t a submissive gesture. Only curious. “You gonna stop me?”

“If I have to.” Izuku nodded toward the unmoving forms of the other rogues. “You saw what happened to them. And my pack will be here soon.”

“Your pack,” the rogue repeated slowly, tasting each word. “What’re they like?”

Izuku blinked, startled. “Wh-what?”

Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the movement at his feet before it was far too late. The skinnier of the three rogues pushed himself up, and exploded.

Izuku threw his arms up, trying to shield himself, but realized too late that the explosion had only released a thick, cloying cloud of smoke. It smelled overwhelming sweet, completely overriding every other scent in the area, the smoke dark and heavy, pressing in until Izuku couldn’t see anything beyond his fingertips. He took a breath and choked, the smoke making him dizzy.

I have to get out of here. The thought struck him cold. He didn’t want to run. He wanted to protect his pack. But he couldn’t fight when he couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. Two of the rogues were wounded. The third seemed more interested in playing with him than hurting him. Miyu had escaped, as had the other omegas. As much as he wanted to stand and fight, he didn’t know if the smoke was toxic, nor was it wise to fight three rogues in such conditions.

As much as he wanted to stand his ground, defend his pack, he knew he had to run. Perhaps the rogues would leave on their own. He’d wounded them badly enough. It might be enough to scare them away.

He’d done what he could. And, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the pack needed him alive more than they needed him to defend them. So he turned, away from the rogues, away from the danger. He turned and he fled.

Izuku hadn’t gone far when something snagged at his ankle and he stumbled. A palm between his shoulders shoved him hard into the dirt, the impact staggering him, leaving him struggling to regain his bearings. He felt rather than saw the figure looming over him and kicked outward. His heel caught something and through the smoke someone yelped then cursed.

Hands broke through the haze, grabbing for his collar. Izuku jerked back just in time, the hands snatching the thin veil of his robe rather than his shirt. He shrugged out of it and let the rogue have it, leaping back to his feet and running off toward what he hoped was the clearing.

As he did, he let out a howl, calling Shoto and the others to him. He hoped the smoke didn’t extend very far, hoped that his pack would be able to find him. His vision swayed as he coughed, unable to get another call out. But one howl was all he needed. He heard his pack responding, heard the furious calls of the alphas back to him, calling him to them just as he had called them to him.

Izuku turned toward the sound of his pack, and just in time saw the shadow looming from the darkness. He skidded to a halt as the larger rogue backhanded him, his knuckles grazing Izuku’s chin and sending him stumbling back. Before he could get his feet, something wrapped around his neck and pulled tight.

Izuku gasped, clawing at the cord on his throat as another arm snaked around his waist. Someone snarled wordlessly in his ear. Between the smoke and the cord around his neck, he gasped for air, finding less and less of it. He struggled against the rogue holding him, but the more he did, the heavier his body felt, the harder it was to keep his eyes open. He gasped again and again, choked and gagged until there were tears running down his face.

They’re going to kill me. The thought struck him cold. He clawed for the rogue’s face behind him, but couldn’t find it. The cord just bit tighter into his throat. They’re going to kill me!

“Stupid omega,” a voice snarled in his ear. He tried to jerk away but the cord at his neck held him in place. “Did you really think you could win? You better be worth all the trouble.”

Izuku tried to snarl, tried to kick out, but when he did, his body gave out suddenly. He slumped forward, felt the alpha pull him closer. The cord at his neck loosened, but only a little. Izuku gasped for air, finding more than before, but it was still a struggle. His vision was pinpointed. Something was ringing in his ear. He hardly noticed when his hands were yanked behind his back and another cord bit into his wrists.

He remembered, suddenly and violently, that they had bound Miyu’s wrists too. They hadn’t killed her. It didn’t look like they’d hurt her. What… exactly had they wanted from her?

What did they want from him?

Icy fear snapped through Izuku’s body. The rogues weren’t going to kill him, but somehow that felt so much worse. He struggled, but only managed a vague thrash, the rogue hardly noticing.

“Others are coming, let’s go,” a lower, gruffer voice said.

Izuku let out a strangled noise, halfway to a growl. He felt the arm at his waist pulling him back and he stumbled, letting his body fall heavy to the ground. He couldn’t let the rogues take him. He couldn’t leave his pack.

Shoto was coming. Touya and Tensei and Tenya and Eijiro and Kenji. They were all coming. He had heard their calls. They were the guardians of his pack. They would find him. Stop the rogues. Save him.

Someone help me.

The thought was small and desperate. Izuku despised the feel of them on his tongue, was just a little grateful that he couldn’t quite form them with how little air he could find. Maybe it was just the smoke making him lightheaded. But he swore he heard a snarl nearby, thought perhaps it was Shoto after all.

But he knew it wasn’t.

The forest roared.

A force blasted between the trees, clearing away the smoke in one impressive gust of air. It stole what little breath he had in his lungs and for a second, Izuku’s world was dark and quiet. When it came back, it was in patches, the cold ground under him, the sound of snarling alphas nearby. He gasped for air and felt the cord still around his neck.

It took so much effort just to keep breathing that he didn’t know exactly what was going on around him, though he was vaguely aware of something. Of sparks and fire and loud sounds that shook the forest. And, finally, after some time, he managed to open his eyes, to watch as the thinner rogue took off into the forest, heading away from the pack, his back stained with blood.

The noises of the fight continued, close, a set of snarls and the scuffle of bodies clashing. Izuku blinked, willing air into his lungs, willing for the world to open to him. He struggled to push himself up but couldn’t quite manage it. When he looked around, he spotted two figures locked in a fight, snarling inches from one another’s face. He swore the larger one was saying something, but he couldn’t make out what. The other one, the one with the red eye and blond hair, wasn’t grinning anymore.

They broke apart with a violent shove and Izuku’s chest tightened. In the full light of the moon, he saw a terrible series of scars running along the entire right side of the blond rogue’s body, threaded along his arm and up his shoulder, snaked up his neck and right across his eye, which was dull and gray and faded. For a moment, Izuku tried to imagine what the wounds must have been like to cause such injuries, and how much the rogue must have fought to survive.

But the thought lasted only a second, a brief flicker of doubt, before the rogue lifted his hand and the forest rang with sound and fire again. The trees buckled outward around them and the larger rogue howled in pain. The blond rogue’s eye flicked to Izuku, blown wide and flat, like a perfect drop of ink.

Wind crashed through the trees and suddenly, there were two more figures between the trees. Izuku would have recognized them anywhere, and let out a gasping cry. Tensei and Tenya were both snarling at the rogues, their attention pinpointed particularly onto the blond rogue. He stared back at them, looking only slightly put off by their presence.

In the moment of consideration between them all, the larger rogue lurched toward Izuku, reaching for him.

Izuku saw the blond rogue’s gaze flick toward them, saw as Tensei and Tenya noticed him laying there at the same time, the horrified look that overcame the brothers, just as the larger rogue was thrown backward in a blast of heat. He stumbled back and in an instant, the blond rogue was on him, snarling furiously.

Tensei and Tenya blinked in confusion, but before they could move, another figure appeared next to them.

This time, Izuku managed a strangled cry, calling Shoto to him. In an instant, the alpha was there, appearing right where he always had stood. And finally, Izuku knew it was going to be okay.

He looked again for the rogues, saw that the larger one had run off. From the blood dripping down the blond rogue’s fingers, he imagined he knew why.

The blond rogue’s single red eye was locked onto Izuku, unblinking, pinpointed. In the shadows, his scars were hidden and he seemed to blend right into the darkness, until Izuku wasn’t really sure if he was even still there or if his mind was simply remembering his form in the forest.

Tensei and Tenya had positioned themselves between the rogue and Izuku and Shoto, growling in warning. The rogue gave them only a cursory glance before he stared back at Izuku. He lifted his hand, all run with blood, and flicked it, letting the blood splatter. He seemed to mutter something, then slipped back into the shadows and the forest, disappearing just like that.

At the same moment, Shoto untied the cord at Izuku’s neck and tore it away. Izuku gasped fully, then choked as air rushed into his lungs. His bruised throat throbbed and it was still difficult to breathe, so much so that his vision darkened, threatening to fade again.

“Izuku!” He heard Shoto call his name, then heard a growl.

“Leave him, Tenya. We have to see to the pack.” That was Tensei. His voice was steady, despite it all. Tenya growled something indistinguished, but let it be.

“Izuku,” Shoto said again, and this time, Izuku managed a deeper breath.

He couldn’t form words, but he met Shoto’s eyes and smiled as best he could. Shoto replied with a sharp grimace. He untied Izuku’s hands and glanced up at the brothers. “We have to go,” he said.

The brothers grimaced and turned to where the rogues had run off. Izuku looked as well, and this time, although he swore he saw the glint of a red eye in the bushes, he knew it was only a trick of his mind.

Chapter Text

Izuku flinched as the pack’s healer gently smeared salve along the burn at his neck. The salve was thick and cool and it had always soothed Izuku’s wounds before, especially when he had been younger. He’d had a knack for getting scraped up and bloodied tumbling around the forest. No matter how many times his mother and father tried to explain why he needed to take care of himself, Izuku had always been more interested in exploring his pack’s territory, in having adventures. He suspected the only reason he’d been allowed to conduct these adventures at all was because Shoto had always been with him.

Those days had long gone and it wasn’t a small cut from innocent play that Izuku was being treated for. It was a burn from a leather sling that had been tied at his throat. Even if the rogues hadn’t meant to kill him, it would have been so easy for him to suffocate, for death to close in on him. The touch of the healer’s fingers on that burn, even if she was only trying to help, made every hair on Izuku’s skin prickle.

As soon as the salve was in place and the healer retreated, he ducked his chin to hide his throat. The healer, a sweet beta named Hanako, offered Izuku some soft cloth wrappings. Izuku considered them, uncomfortable with the thought of even bandages tied around his neck, but eventually took them and wrapped them himself, tying them looser than they probably should have been but enough to cover the wounds and the salve.

As he worked, he chanced a glance toward the far wall, and accidentally caught his father’s eyes. Toshinori’s gaze was steady and unblinking, his lips drawn into a hard line. Izuku knew his father wasn’t angry at him, but he still ducked his head in submission to the pack alpha. His father may not have blamed him but it didn’t matter. Izuku knew the entire situation was partly his fault. And he didn’t know how to make it right.

Once he was bandaged up, Hanako bowed her head to Izuku then to Toshinori, waiting for the pack alpha to dismiss her before she rose and stepped out of the room. Izuku stayed where he was, unsure what else there was to do, whether his father wanted anything from him. They hadn’t yet spoken about what had happened. Izuku was dreading the moment Toshinori asked him the inevitable.

They had arrived back at the village when it was still dark, far too early in the morning, and each of them still haunted by what had happened under the Moon.

The guards had rounded up the omegas in the clearing by the waterfall, though most of them had gathered there upon hearing the howls of their packmates, and led them straight back to the village. Izuku, still dizzy from the effects of the smoke and still not quite able to breathe deeply, had spent the trip being carried by Eijiro. The beta had offered to take him, leaving the alphas ready to fight should the rogues reappear, and he had been strong enough to carry Izuku’s weight on his back the entire way home.

Throughout the journey, Eijiro had done his best to bring Izuku’s spirits up.

“You were great, shula,” he’d said, over and over again. “We’re glad you’re okay.”

But he hadn’t been great and he wasn’t okay. No matter how many times Eijiro had said it, that didn’t make it true.

The trip back had been agony, knowing what would be waiting for them at the end. While the guards and the omegas all sighed in relief as the village appeared through the trees, Izuku only tensed. Their group had been spotted by watchers long before they approached the village, meaning that everyone was gathered, waiting for them, wanting to know why they were back so soon.

Standing at their head was Toshinori, and it had been Toshinori who spotted Izuku first, still being carried by Eijiro. Through his years as pack alpha, Toshinori had learned how to keep himself steady, to be the pillar that the pack rested upon. But upon seeing his son, his steely glare had crumbled, bent into one of open-mouthed horror, eyes wide and shoulders slumped. The look still haunted Izuku, even as he sat within the safety of the pack alpha’s council room.

Beyond the sturdy wood walls, Izuku could just hear alphas and betas prowling through the village, on the lookout for danger. A single rogue was bad enough but confirmation of three in their territory, and three bold enough to attack? Nobody felt safe anymore.

It was made all the worse by the fact that Izuku had been a victim of the rogues. The pack had come this close to losing their aeon omega. Without him, they wouldn’t have had another aeon to lead them, to watch over them and support them. They would have been alone, broken. The attack on the three other omegas, including Miyu’s near kidnapping, only added to the stress. Nobody felt safe because nobody was safe.

Izuku felt it, like a throbbing, open wound spilling blood from the heart of the pack. Not only could he do nothing to stop the bleeding, to ease the pack’s pain, he had been a cause of it.

Izuku listened to his pack on edge, felt the terrible looming dreading pressing down on their village, and bowed his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he knew it wouldn’t matter.

His father didn’t react. When Izuku chanced a look, he saw that Toshinori was staring into the fire at the center of the room, contemplating something. After a few moments, he gestured to the seat next to him. “Sit by me.”

Izuku did as he was told. He took his spot at Toshinori’s left, leaving his right side open for his mother to sit. He hadn’t seen her yet. Toshinori had ordered all non-warriors to stay in their dwellings or the communal nest, including his mother. He didn’t know what she had been told or where she was, though he knew she would be out of her mind with worry. As much as he wanted to go to her, to comfort her and be comforted in return, he knew his father needed him as well. His mother might wear her emotions like beautiful jewelry, but Toshinori concealed his like raw gems. Izuku knew his father was worried, but he couldn’t quite tell just how upset by everything the pack alpha was. If nothing else, Izuku knew that, like him, Toshinori would be responding to the pain of the pack. Because they were in pain, so was their alpha. If nothing else, he needed Izuku’s support for the pack.

Toshinori called for a report from the primary scouts, but they came back with no news. The Moon grounds were half a day away, and while the rogues had had enough time to reach the village, it seemed they hadn’t gone straight from the grounds toward the village at least. More scouts would be checking the larger area around the village, and ensuring that their pack members beyond the village were safe, but that would take time. For now, Toshinori took the news of at least the immediate area around the village being safe with a tight grimace.

Once they were alone, Izuku held his breath, and was not surprised when Toshinori spoke to him next.

“You’re not to leave the village,” he said simply, no room for argument. He probably expected one.

Instead, Izuku merely nodded, “Yes, alpha.”

“You’ll stay with me or a warrior I appoint to you.”

“Yes, alpha.”

He paused, still staring into the fire. Izuku waited, knowing there had to be more, waiting for the admonishments to come. You failed, which he expected. You weren’t enough, which he knew. You disappoint me, which was already making tears well up in his eyes.

He waited for any or all of those words, braced for them. He wasn’t prepared for when Toshinori turned to him, cupped his face in his hands, lifting his chin up to meet his gaze. The pack alpha’s expression had finally cracked, a slight tremble in his lip the only show of fear he allowed.

“I promise, my boy,” he said with too much tenderness, too much understanding, “I’ll make this right. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll see to everything.”

Izuku didn’t know what to do. He nodded, and allowed Toshinori to draw him into his arms, hugging him a little too tightly, yet somehow not tight enough.

“This wasn’t your responsibility. I should have done better for you and the others. And I’m sorry for that.”

“No!” Izuku nearly choked trying to push away, wanting to look his father in the eye. The words Toshinori had whispered were too close to what he’d wanted to say, too close to the apology that had been swelling like a lump in his throat. “It wasn’t your fault. I… I wasn’t strong enough to stop the alphas. It was my fault they…,” he swallowed, all too aware of the lump at his throat, not knowing if that was just the emotion building within or the residual swelling of the cord at his neck.

Toshinori was shaking his head, even as Izuku spoke. “You did so well, my boy. Better than I could have hoped for. You protected our pack, and you did what you could in the moment.” He finally released Izuku, only to cup his face again, to hold him steady, to make him look Toshinori in the eye. “I’m so proud of you, Izuku.”

The emotion welled up through Izuku’s neck and into his eyes, spilling out as tears. He reached for his father again and Toshinori embraced him. They held onto each other for a long time, with nothing but the quiet snap of the fire between them.

- - -

Katsuki returned to the hollow and found Skull-Face there.

He’d been expecting it, hoping for it in fact. The scrawny alpha was laid on his side, groaning in pain. The wound on his back was still exposed, the deep slit from the omega’s sword. Katsuki remembered the swift, unflinching flick of the omega’s wrist, the way he’d so confidently spun the sword at Skull-Face and landed a devastating blow. All almost without a blink.

It hadn’t killed Skull-Face, but it had done enough. Even as Katsuki approached, he could do nothing but glare up at him and snarl.

“You,” he spat, “traitor.”

Katsuki considered the pathetic alpha before him, and smirked. “You can’t betray someone you never had any loyalty to. Don’t be a moron. You knew this was coming. You just thought I’d be the one laying in the dirt.”

Skull-Face didn’t deny it. He just shook his head. “Make it fast. I deserve a quick death.”

“I don’t really give a damn what you think you deserve,” Katsuki bared his teeth, “and I’m not here to kill you. I need you, actually, and you’re going to come with me.”

Skull-Face tried to push himself up, with little success. “Or what?”

Katsuki smirked. “I don’t really think you’re strong enough to have a say in the matter.”

Skull-Face only bared his teeth. “Why?” He asked.

To that, Katsuki’s smirk fell away. He considered his wrist, which was covered by a thick bracer his mother had given to him. There was a new gouge down the middle, the place where that omega’s sword had caught and held, catching on the clawed hooks sewn into the leather. It hadn’t been the first sword to leave a mark on Katsuki’s bracer, but somehow, it was the one he kept looking at.

Instead of answering, Katsuki kicked Skull-Face in the jaw, knocking the alpha over and out, just like that. He confiscated the rest of the slings he had concealed up his sleeve and a small knife hidden in the belt at his waist, then turned the alpha over and used the slings to bind his wrists to his ankles, ensuring he wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Katsuki still had to track down Solid as well, though he suspected the other alpha would be nearby. Even after their failure, he thought Solid might still try to find an omega to bring to Alpha. He would be hunting, so he would be a little more dangerous, but he’d also be nursing the injuries from their fight. Katsuki was still acutely aware of his own injuries, mostly the painful bruise spreading along his chest. Where he now knew Skull-Face had a blessing that let him expel choking smoke from his body, Katsuki still wasn’t sure if Solid had a blessing and what it would be if he did.

He'd have to be careful, and he knew it.

As on edge as he was, Katsuki wasn’t that surprised when he stood and turned and found Jest standing in the entryway of their hollow.

The beta made a humming noise as he glanced between Skull-Face and Katsuki. “I’m surprised you left him alive, honestly.”

Katsuki carefully thought through what Jest was saying and what he wasn’t. More than anything else, he had to ascertain what, exactly, Jest knew, what he had seen. So he said nothing, letting the beta fill in some of the gaps.

He tilted his head and sniffed the air. “I don’t smell that big guy around. You run him off?”

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “I need to find him.”

“Do you now?” Jest seemed amused by everything. “Why’s that?”

“That’s my business.”’

“Your business is Alpha’s business,” Jest grinned, but he had too many teeth when he did. Katsuki bared his teeth and let out a low growl, but the beta ignored him. “You are still looking for his omega, aren’t you?”

Katsuki didn’t give him a moment to think.

He lashed out, grabbing for the beta and letting sparks light up his palm. Jest leaned back, just missing his grip, and ducked out of the hollow. Katsuki followed, scanning the forest and finding Jest standing not too far away.

That amused grin still shadowed his face. “Well that was a turn. Alpha’s not going to be happy if I tell him what you just tried to pull.”

Katsuki let his palms ripple with heat and fire. “Go ahead. Tell him. I don’t give a damn what he thinks.”

Jest only laughed. “Another turn. See, I knew you were going to be interesting to have around.” He offered Katsuki his outstretched hand. “I’ll keep quiet about this little incident. Someone like you will do well in Alpha’s pack. You belong in a pack like ours. So, settle down and I’ll even help you track down that other rogue. Best scout around, remember?” He flicked his tongue over his teeth.

Katsuki didn’t move. “I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” Jest tilted his head, genuine curiosity bleeding through his amusement.

“None of your business,” Katsuki snarled.

Jest considered him, then let his hand fall to his side. He swept his gaze around the forest, then his eyebrow arched. “Why do you need these two? You haven’t killed the skinny one, and I have a feeling you won’t kill the big guy. So, what’s your plan for them?”

Katsuki bared his teeth but Jest just nodded.

“You aren’t making your own pack, not with these two. Which tells me you need them for another reason, and there’s really only one other use you might have for them.” The beta let his chin drop and his amusement bled out. He gazed up at Katsuki with his face fully in shadow, and something darked glittered in his eyes.

A shiver raced through Katsuki. He had always had his suspicions of Jest, but in that moment, he felt a deep threat from the beta. Alpha kept him around for a reason, he’d said. Katsuki was starting to see why.

“They won’t accept you,” Jest’s voice was low, dangerous, “even if you bring them offerings. Not after what you’ve done. But Alpha will accept you. We will accept you.” He smiled. There was nothing welcoming about it. “You have nowhere else to go. Nowhere else will welcome a ratty, dangerous alpha like you. But Alpha wants you. So drop this childish act. Let’s go home already.”

Katsuki felt his breath catch in his throat.

Home.

He stared at Jest, searching him for signs of deceit, either a lift in his lip or a tilt of an eyebrow. But there was nothing. He just stood there, waiting.

And yet—

Katsuki swallowed. “I haven’t gotten an omega yet.”

Jest tilted his head to the side, and for the first time Katsuki noticed the scarring at the base of his collarbone. The crescent line of a deep bite.

“You’ve proven yourself to me,” he said simply, and raised his hand one more time, “that’s enough. Now. Let’s go. The pack here is on high alert after that little stunt last night. It would be better if we leave them be for now.”

This was it. The moment Katsuki had been waiting for. An invitation. A pack. A home. Someone wanted him.

It would be easy to follow Jest back. To step into Alpha’s shadow and live with his pack. Perhaps they were rough around the edges, but Katsuki was rough as well. And Jest was right. They were probably the only pack who would dare to accept someone like him, want someone like him.

And yet—

Katsuki glanced up through the trees, into the rays of sunlight that streamed through. In the glittering light, he saw a glimpse of sparks lighting up deep green eyes, felt the fire and pressure of a body against his, caught the scent of something sweet and earthy. The forest smelled like him. Or perhaps he smelled like the forest.

As much as Katsuki could so easily follow Jest back to Alpha, it would lead him away from that omega.

And there was something – something – about that damn omega.

His parents had always told him legends about those who were born with deep connections. Connections to the earth, mostly. Their pack had lived on the plains for generations upon generations, long before Katsuki had been born. Woven into their very blood was the call of the plains.

But it wasn’t just places someone could have a connection to. Sometimes, people were born with connections to each other. Soulmates, as his father used to say, though his mother would scoff and say they were more like true pack members, born to a very exclusive group.

Katsuki had always jeered at his parents. He’d never felt a connection to the plains until he’d been forced to leave them. And now, he kept thinking about that damn omega. He didn’t even know his name, but Katsuki knew he could have picked that omega out from an entire pack.

Soulmates.

It didn’t sound completely correct. But it wasn’t completely wrong either.

Somehow though, Katsuki knew he was meant to be with that omega. At his side. Which meant he had to find a way into his pack’s good graces. A pretty tall order after what had happened only hours before. But, he had an idea.

He was going to have to make the best offering anyone had ever seen. Delivering two rogues who had just recently attacked their pack was a good start. If Katsuki thought he could catch Jest too, he would, and deliver him as a harbinger of something far more dangerous beyond their territory. But somehow, he knew he wasn’t going to get Jest.

And he also knew he wasn’t going to follow the beta anywhere.

Katsuki bared his teeth. “You should leave now. Tell Alpha that this territory is under my protection now.”

Jest’s smile thinned, scorpion-like again. “You’re making a mistake. You aren’t going to be able to take this one back.”

Katsuki said nothing, examining the line of scarring at Jest’s neck. He couldn’t quite decide if it was a mating mark or the result of some terrible punishment. Was Jest precious to Alpha, or had Alpha simply put him in his place?

He snarled at the beta. “Leave.”

Jest waited, giving him the chance to change to mind. Then, he let his hand drop with a sigh. “Disappointing.” Although he kept his smile, his gaze was cooler now, getting colder by the second. Jest looked at Katsuki with a more calculated expression, as if he were thinking of just how he was going to destroy him. “It would be best if you stay out of our way. Alpha always remembers those who betray him.”

“Can’t betray someone I was never loyal to,” Katsuki growled.

Jest allowed a low laugh. “I’ll be sure to pass that on to Alpha.”

The beta lifted his hand, a small wave goodbye, before he stepped back into the forest and melted into the shadows. Katsuki considered chasing after him, but his ribs were really starting to ache, and he had more important things to worry about.

He waited until he was sure Jest had gone, then he turned his attention to the rest of the forest. Solid would be nearby. It was just a matter of finding him, and catching him.

Katsuki opened his mouth to better smell the air, and started on his hunt.

- - -

Izuku made sure to keep his chin lifted, his back straight, even though it revealed the bandages around his neck to do so. Hiding it would show more weakness than he would allow. He had to be strong, even if he didn’t feel very strong. So he sat straight and looked those across from him in the eye, trying to glean what they were thinking from just the way they looked back at him.

He sat at his father’s side, Toshinori lifting his hand to the small fire between the two lines facing each other. He wasn’t nearly as interested in those across from him as Izuku was. On the alpha’s other side was Inko. His mother had been reunited with Izuku only a few moments earlier and her face was still red and wet with tears from her relief at seeing him. She stared into the fire as well, her hands clenched at her knees. It was hard to tell if she was even really aware of those sitting across from her.

Those across from them didn’t seem at all interested in her, though. Instead, they were all looking at Izuku.

In the middle sat Enji, Shoto’s father. He was a huge alpha, intimidating in every sense of the word, with flame-red hair and a penchant for letting fire lick at his face, just to prove exactly what he was capable of. He sat with his arms crossed over his bulging chest, glaring at Izuku. Sometimes, as if in response to something Enji was thinking, the fire between them would flicker, lean toward him, away from Toshinori’s outstretched hand.

To say Izuku was intimidated by Enji would have been an understatement, but it also wasn’t completely true. Enji was terrifying in his own regard, but for as much as he made Izuku uncomfortable, Izuku also knew that Shoto and his father didn’t get along, and although he’d never been give specifics, he’d gleaned enough from hints dropped by both Shoto and Touya to guess that something was wrong. The fact that his second son, Natsuo, had practically disowned Enji was another clue to the mystery, and another reason for Izuku to distrust him. When Enji glared at him, Izuku made sure to stare right back, to never give anything away.

Next to Enji was a smaller, slimmer beta woman, her head bowed in thought but her gaze lifted, dark blue hair pulled back from her face. She split her time equally between watching Izuku and Toshinori, perhaps trying to read them as Izuku was trying to read her. Her name was Tenna, Tenya and Tensei’s mother. She served as the pack’s first and best scout and diplomat, and spent a lot of her time away from the village visiting the nearby packs and ensuring good relations with them. It was almost by chance she was even there to attend this meeting.

As if to punctuate this, Tensei sat at her side and slightly behind her, just barely included but also out of the way. He would be more observer than anything else to this meeting, but it was important for him to know what was spoken of between the group, as more than likely his mother would be away and he would be the one directly serving the pack. That, and he had also been witness to some of what had happened during the Moon.

On Enji’s other side was a small, squat beta elder called Torino, wrapped in a faded yellowing robe. He stared into the fire as if blissfully unaware of what exactly was going on, smiling pleasantly. Izuku knew him well. He had been Toshinori’s mentor and closest advisor for many years. In that time, he’d come to be very fond of Izuku, though he showed this fondness by pushing Izuku mercilessly and teasing him relentlessly, always testing him in strange ways. Even now, when Izuku wasn’t directly watching him, he was aware that Torino’s gaze would sharpen suddenly, revealing the true understanding he had for the situation. By the time Izuku glanced over to him, he would always return to that blissful smile.

The final person sat on Torino’s other side, sitting with his knees tucked under him and his hands placed on his lap. Like Izuku, he made sure to keep his back straight and his eyes lifted, watching over the meeting with a hawk’s gaze. Of all those attending, and as much as Enji intimidated Izuku, he was the one that made Izuku’s neck prickle with unease. His name was Mirai, and beside Torino, he had been Toshinori’s closest advisor for many years. While he had not grown up with Toshinori, from what Izuku understood, he fulfilled a similar role for Toshinori that Shoto did for Izuku. They were as close as anyone could be, and they balanced each other out in ways that no one else could. Although he kept his gaze forward and focused for the most part, every now and then, his glare would cut over to Izuku, examining him closely. Whenever it did, Izuku looked away, unable quite to face his father’s best friend.

Those gathered were the pillars of their pack. The leaders, the ones that kept everyone safe and everyone together. Izuku knew them all well. They had all watched him grow up, and in time he had come to learn exactly how important each and every one of those people meant to the pack. And now, they were gathered to discuss exactly what had happened, and what they were going to have to do to ensure the safety of the pack.

While on some level, Izuku knew that he would have been in this meeting anyway, or at least he hoped he would have been in this meeting, he also couldn’t help but feel that his presence was mostly symbolic. The bandages around his neck weren’t merely there to help keep his wounds clean, but also as a mark to the damage done to their pack. Those sitting across from him were just as much a part of protecting and guiding their pack as Toshinori and Izuku were, and in many regards, this was their failure as well. As much as he recognized exactly what his presence signified, Izuku resolved to be more than just the proof of mistakes, but part of the solution.

He kept his fists clenched in his lap and waited for someone else to speak, knowing it wasn’t his place to start the meeting, even as words pressed against the roof of his mouth, wanting to burst free.

Toshinori eventually lowered his hand and sat back. “Everyone has been accounted for?” He didn’t look up at Tenna, but everyone else did.

She didn’t flinch under the sudden attention. “Everyone. In addition, nobody else has reported seeing any signs of the rogues now or before the Moon, other than the original sighting.” Her lip curled in distaste at the mention of the rogues.

“I’m starting to wonder if we can even call them rogues,” Mirai said. He stared directly at Toshinori when he spoke, and the pack alpha back at him. They mirrored each other’s concerned and frustrated looks. “They seemed too organized. This feels like a pack moving with purpose within our territory.”

“Nobody would dare infringe on our territory,” Enji growled. “And nobody would be foolish enough to attack our members.”

“Nobody’s quite a strange name, isn’t it?” Torino chirped. At first, Izuku frowned, wondering why the old beta was faking confusion, when Toshinori sighed.

“You think this is someone we haven’t had dealings with previously,” the pack alpha interpreted.

“It would make sense.” Tenna pressed a hand to her chin. Izuku had often seen her sons do the same when thinking. “We have good to neutral relations with everyone around us. We all know each other. And more to the point, everyone knows we are the strongest. Even if they wished to launch an attack, what would be the point of singling out our omegas and giving away their intention?”

“Unless they wished to demoralize us,” Enji said.

“Or.” Izuku felt rather than saw Mirai’s gaze on him. “Somehow, it was revealed exactly who would be attending the Moon. Perhaps there was a specific target in mind.”

All eyes turned to Izuku. He kept his head up. All the words he’d been waiting to say drained down the back of his throat and it took everything in him not to cough. Instead, he salvaged a few new words to say, “They gave no indication that they knew who I was. If anything, I think they were surprised I was there.”

The fire between them expelled a thick plume of smoke as Enji’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly makes you say that? What did they say to you?”

Toshinori held a hand up, asking for calm, and turned to Izuku. “Perhaps you should tell us everything that happened?” He asked gently.

This was the moment. Although the alphas had given an account of what they had seen – Kenji had spoken with Toshinori at length during the pack’s initial reaction to the news – Izuku hadn’t yet given the full story. He wasn’t even sure if Miyu had been allowed to tell what had happened to her. What everyone knew was only what the alphas had known, and that was the barest sliver of the entire attack.

And yet, Izuku felt a slight tremor in his hand at the thought of recounting what had happened to him. Even thinking about it, the helpless feeling he’d had laying on the ground came back in a powerful wave, washing away all the courage he’d carefully stacked in front of everyone. For the first time that meeting, he let his eyes drop to the fire, trying to take some warmth from it. All he could feel was the cold ground under him, the rough cord at his throat.

He cleared his throat, and did his best to tell what had happened. From hearing the omegas’ call for help, to reaching the clearing and his confrontation with the two alphas. He took a little pride in how he’d taken them down so quickly, at least at first. But when he chanced a glance up, the others didn’t seem to share his pride. He glanced away as he spoke of Miyu, of helping her before spotting the third rogue.

It was this point in the story that he paused, thinking. The third rogue had been strange. Different from the other two. In the moment, he’d been too caught up in everything to really think about what had been strange about that rogue, other than the obvious, but as he thought about it, he realized just how strange he had been.

In the silence, Enji grew impatient. “Well?” He prompted.

Izuku felt his father bristling beside him, his instinct to defend Izuku. Before a fight could start, Izuku blurted out the thing foremost on his mind. “The rogues weren’t organized. The third one was different from the others. He was… I don’t think he wanted to hurt anyone. Or, at least, he didn’t want to hurt me.”

“You said he attacked you,” Enji growled.

“Well… yes,” Izuku admitted. But he remembered the smile on the rogue’s face. The playful sort of way he’d pressed against Izuku’s counter. It reminded him of when he and Shoto had been younger, when the alpha had roughhoused with him. Those days had long gone, especially after Shoto accidentally hurt Izuku during their play. But still, Izuku couldn’t shake the feeling that the rogue hadn’t meant to hurt him, that it was more of a test. He’d been playing with Izuku, but not in a cruel way. He’d just seemed to be having fun.

He didn’t know how to convey this to the others, so he just said, “The only injuries I got were from the other two, despite the fact that the third rogue was the one I had an actual fight with. He also saw me long before I saw him. He could have attacked before I even noticed he was there. If he’d wanted to hurt me, he’d had plenty of opportunities, and he didn’t.”

This didn’t settle well with the group, but even Enji remained silent, waiting for him to go on. So Izuku did, telling them about the third rogue’s questions, asking him who he was and what his pack was like. Thinking back on it, the questions had taken Izuku off guard in the moment, but with some time to think about it, it all but confirmed that this wasn’t a targeted attack. Or, at least, the rogues hadn’t known very much about their pack beforehand. They hadn’t been there to get Izuku. He doubted they’d even known their pack had a male omega. It had been more about opportunity than anything else.

Which begged another question. If these rogues hadn’t known anything about their pack, how had they, seemingly at random, stumbled upon the omegas when they were at their most vulnerable? At any other Moon, there would have only been one alpha on the grounds, and three-against-one wasn’t good odds. The entire situation could have been so much worse, but for Izuku’s presence requiring additional guards.

Even that thought didn’t reassure Izuku. They had come closer to catastrophe than he’d first thought. And something about the entire situation didn’t make any sense.

“What happened next?” Tenna pressed.

Izuku blinked. He hadn’t noticed how long he’d been silent. “I was distracted by the third rogue, so I didn’t see the first one was still alive. He has a blessing, some sort of smoke he can summon. It… well, I got disorientated and they grabbed me and I—” he swallowed, feeling weak. The bandages on his throat seemed to tighten.

Tenna, perhaps realizing he wasn’t too eager to speak, turned to her son. “Is that when you arrived?”

Tensei leaned slightly forward, pressing into the conversation for the first time. “There was no smoke when we arrived, but I imagine it was shortly after.”

“The third rogue.” Izuku’s voice startled Tensei, drew the eyes of everyone else in the room. He hadn’t noticed at first that most of them had politely averted their gazes when he’d faltered. But he managed to pull himself up, to lift his chin, if only to make sure he was breathing well. “He attacked the other two and stopped them from taking me. He… saved me.” He caught a strange look from Toshinori, and Torino and Miari glanced at each other. Izuku didn’t bother to look for anyone else’s reaction, mostly because he didn’t want to know. “That’s when the others showed up.”

He let the story end there, leaving it for Tensei to complete, but he didn’t, frowning at Izuku. Tenna dragged a hand over her mouth, contemplative and concerned.

It was Enji who spoke next, his voice strangely calm, “That proves they weren’t working together. But I doubt that two separate rogue groups just happened upon the grounds at the same time. They must have been working together, until they weren’t.”

“So what changed?” Mirai asked.

Next to him, Torino shifted. It was a subtle movement, not accompanied by any spoken words. But he turned very deliberately toward Izuku, watching him with that sharpened gaze of his. In that, he answered Mirai’s question: Izuku. Izuku was what had changed. They seemingly had been working together up until Izuku stepped into the picture. Then, everything had changed.

Toshinori, too, seemed to notice the look. He grimaced deeply and reached again for the fire. “Whether it was one rogue group or two, there are three out there. Two wounded, and a third who’s alone at best and wild at worst. And perhaps he’s both.” He looked up at Enji, then Tenna, in a deliberate swing of his head. “We need to find them and stop them.”

Tenna nodded with her pack alpha. “I’ll gather the scouts. We’ll find their trail. Now that we know they’re out there, now that Tenya and Tensei have gotten their scents, it’ll be easier to find them.”

“And I will organize hunting groups,” Enji said, uncrossing his arms. He leaned toward the fire, gazing into it as if it were a map, an organization chart laid out for him to plan out his strategy. “We will focus on the more densely populated areas of our territory, ensuring that everyone is protected.”

“Do more,” Toshinori said, immediately, “tell everyone to come to the village. We will accommodate the extra people. Until the rogues are gone, I want everyone here, where we can keep them safe.”

Enji frowned deeply, perhaps thinking of his own son and his mate out in the forest, and nodded. “Very well.”

Toshinori turned to Mirai. “Organize watches and patrols around the village. And assign someone to care for Izuku as well.” Izuku bristled a little at his father’s order, but he understood why he needed a bodyguard. And, he had already agreed to that condition.

Instead of simply looking into the fire and imagining his strategy, as Enji had, Mirai had pulled a slip of reed paper and a charcoal strip from his sleeve and was writing something along it. “Consider it done.”

Toshinori looked at each of those across the fire, and nodded. “We will find them. We will stop them. We will ensure no one else is harmed.”

His words were strong, solemn. It was in that moment Izuku saw how and why he was pack alpha, even in his withered state. His advisors turned to him, took in his words, swelled with them. Even Enji seemed comforted and centered by his words. They would do this, simply because their pack alpha had said it would be so. They would find the rogues. They would stop them. And everyone would be safe. Because it had been said.

Izuku felt a little flutter of fear at his father’s words. He was so strong, so assured. Without any effort, he had both commanded and comforted the strongest of their pack. Izuku was supposed to be able to do the same. But whenever he spoke, he swore everyone could see the little twitch in the corner of his eye, or the way his smile didn’t look quite right. He swore they could see the cracks in his façade, slowly crumbling away and leaving him exposed.

He dug his nails into his palms to remind himself to be calm, to be focused. To be like his father.

After all, the pack needed him, now perhaps more than ever.

A hand on his knee made him jolt, just a little. It was just his father, his touch meant to be reassuring, even as Izuku felt his cheeks warming in embarrassment. Where with the advisors, he had been stern, commanding, with Izuku, his touch was gentle and he smiled.

“Don’t worry,” he said.

Izuku smiled back at his father, hoping he didn’t notice the cracks.

Chapter Text

Katsuki stalked the forest, much as he had before, but with a very different prey in mind. No longer was he looking for carefree omegas, completely unaware of his presence and nearly helpless to stop him. Now, he was looking for a wounded rogue, an alpha who knew what was out there.

Solid would be a different animal than Skull-Face, Katsuki knew. But he also knew he couldn’t turn back now. By that point, Jest would be on his way back to Alpha to report their failure and Katsuki’s betrayal. Katsuki wouldn’t be welcomed back, but he was okay with that.

After all, he hadn’t really wanted to be a part of that crummy pack anyway.

It was a starkly different process to hunt in the forest than it ever had been where Katsuki had been born. His home had been wide and empty, plains that stretched to the horizon in every direction, endless in every sense of the word. He had learned to duck into tall grasses, to search them for movements just slightly out of place, to watch the shadows where everything worth finding hid, and how to dig up buried treasures from the hard-packed earth. Here, the forest twisted and snarled in his way, impeding not only his progress forward but also his ability to find clues of where Solid had gone.

The omegas had been easy – follow the river and they’d eventually find someone – but Solid wasn’t going to be in a predictable location. Instead, Katsuki would have to search for the best places to hide, the best places to lie in wait. Not only that, but the heavy air of the forest was crammed with too many scents to parse through. The plains had been sparse, fleeting. You had to really search for scents of people and animals nearby on the wind. There wasn’t hardly any wind that reached to the ground, most of it tangling up in the treetops, spiraling leaflitter around Katsuki as he hunted. The air hung heavy with the scent of churned dirt and old pines. Scents he wasn’t familiar with enough to differentiate. Not to mention that Solid would be on high alert, perhaps even looking for him.

The odds were completely stacked against Katsuki. But it wasn’t the worst situation he’d found himself. And he’d beaten worser odds than these. If he could find Solid, so long as Solid didn’t take him out in the first few seconds of an ambush, Katsuki could beat him. He’d already proven that.

He just had to find him.

Although he knew each and every tree was different, Katsuki swore he’d walked past that same one about fifteen times. It had been two hours of searching, two hours since Jest had disappeared into the forest, two hours since he’d left Skull-Face tied up in the hollow they had shared. Much as he wasn’t concerned about Skull-Face, he didn’t want to leave him for too long. Given enough time, he might find a way out of his bonds, then Katsuki would be back at square one. It had also been quite a while since Katsuki had rested. He would need to turn back soon, return to the hollow to check on Skull-Face and find some rest.

But time away, time resting, meant more time for Solid to slip away. And he needed the alpha. He needed to prove to the pack that he was worthy of being heard, that he wasn’t like these rogues. Plus, it would be suspicious if he only showed up with one. They knew there were three of them. If two showed up, they would only assume the third was waiting to surprise them.

He needed to find Solid. But his time was running out.

He opened his mouth, hoping it might help him catch a fleeting scent, just as he had out on the plains. The stench of old moss and sagging oaks overwhelmed him, but just at the edge, he caught something interesting. Something his mother had taught him to look for, to pull from the air.

The coppery scent of blood.

Katsuki licked his lips. He couldn’t tell whose blood it was, but he knew Solid had a few injuries. It could be an animal, wounded by something or someone in the forest. Or it could be the rogue.

Again, Katsuki tilted his neck back and opened his mouth, searching for more of the scent, and in the corner of his eye, he saw movement.

The bushes exploded, leaves and sticks scattering, and Katsuki had just enough time to lift his palm. Heat blasted between him and his assailant, so close he felt the blowback of warmth against his face, heard a sudden shriek of pain. A body crashed back into the bushes, not quite disappearing.

At first, Katsuki didn’t recognize him, and he thought with a jolt he might have hurt one of the pack members, but as he approached, he noticed the familiar outline of broad shoulders. Solid had changed his appearance, had stripped his old clothes away and fashioned new clothes from the moss and leaves and branches of the forest. It was impressive work, and it had helped him blend seamlessly into the forest. Katsuki had only seen him when he’d moved and if he hadn’t caught the scent of blood, he wouldn’t have been aware enough to counter before Solid attacked.

As impressive as it was, Katsuki only snarled down at the rogue. He twisted his fist into the rogue’s collar and yanked him up, only for his clothing to fall apart in his fingers. As it did, Solid twisted away, kicking out to force Katsuki back. The rogue scrambled to his feet, limping heavily. The scent of blood was stronger now, and Katsuki saw a line of it trickling down Solid’s calf.

“What do you want?” Solid snarled.

Katsuki huffed. “Funny, you asking me that when you’re the one who attacked me.”

“You attacked first,” Solid bared his teeth. “Why? Why did you attack us?”

“You would have attacked me, given half the chance!” Katsuki snarled back.

“Wrong.”

Something in his voice gave Katsuki pause. There was a heaviness, as if more words would have simply been too bothersome to carry. Solid’s shoulders were slumped in what Katsuki had assumed was pain, and there was pain there, but not the kind he’d been expecting.

Hurt edged along Solid’s voice, like rust along a neglected blade. “I thought we were working together. I thought we were going to be packmates. I didn’t like everything you did, but I respected you. But I guess that wasn’t enough.” The rust peeled back, the blade underneath smaller, sharper. Rage did that to people, Katsuki knew. Wore away at their edges until all that was left was the anger. Solid’s eyes were full of it, his teeth bared. “It never is enough.”

It was strange, seeing Solid so vulnerable. For the first time, Katsuki remarked on how he didn’t even know the alpha’s name. He didn’t know where he had come from. Why he had become a rogue. Whether he had left or been pushed out. Or, like Katsuki, if he had been escaping something. Katsuki had assumed. Assumed he’d been pushed out of his pack for being too wild, too violent, too vicious. Like he had assumed Skull-Face had been pushed out. But he’d never reflected on how he, himself, hadn’t been pushed out. That his pack had wanted him, had always wanted him.

He was a rogue simply because the rest of his pack no longer existed.

And for the first time, Katsuki pitied Solid. It wouldn’t change anything, he knew. But he did at least give the rogue the first move, letting Solid howl in fury and leap toward him, giving him the chance to win.

Then Katsuki lifted his hand and the fight was over rather quickly.

- - -

Shoto was waiting for Izuku outside the council building.

He hadn’t been sent for, Izuku knew, as Mirai had hooked a finger toward him, saying in fewer words that they would have to look for a suitable guard for him, but there he was anyway. As Izuku knew he would be.

He was seated against the wall, staring out toward the forest as if he were on watch duty. When Mirai saw him, he nodded to Shoto. “Good. I was going to send for you.” He nudged Izuku toward Shoto. “Stay with Izuku until we track down these rogues. If anyone attempts him harm, you have the alpha’s permission to eliminate them.”

Izuku shuddered at the cool delivery of Mirai’s execution order. Shoto didn’t even flinch.

“I understand,” he said, as if that had already been his plan, as if he were already thinking out how he was going to eliminate these rogues.

Mirai nodded once, then turned back into the council room. As he went in, Enji stepped out. Father and son gazed at each other, Shoto’s glare hard and sharp, Enji’s lip raised in the corner, the barest hint of contempt. When he noticed Izuku, he grunted.

“Do not fail the aeon again,” he said simply, and walked away.

Shoto grit his teeth, staring at his father’s back, and only settled when Izuku stepped closer. “We should go,” he said.

Immediately, Shoto’s suspicion turned toward Izuku. “Go where?”

Izuku smiled at him. “Take me home.”

The suspicion washed away and understanding took its place. Shoto stood, nodding for Izuku to lead the way, and followed a step behind him as Izuku made his way back toward his dwelling. He gestured for Shoto to come with him and stepped inside.

The cool air of the forest was replaced instantly with a heavier sort of air, yet the pressure was relieving. Someone, probably his mother, had lit incense, filling the dwelling with a faintly spicy scent, something that had always comforted him. Izuku breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to let the scent fill him completely. It was the first time he’d been home since the Moon. The first time he’d been alone since the Moon. Well, alone with Shoto.

Shoto’s gaze swept the dwelling, as if he were expecting the rogues to be hiding there. But once it was clear there was no one, he slumped into his normal seat at the table, sighing.

“Well,” Izuku spoke first, “that was a disaster.”

Shoto said nothing. Izuku hadn’t expected him to. All the worries the alpha had held before the Moon had come to pass, after all. He must feel somewhat vindicated for everything he had said.

So Izuku also said, “You were right.”

Shoto growled. “I didn’t want to be right. I wanted—” he bit off the words and turned away. His fists were curled, fingers digging into his palms. Izuku felt the phantom pains of nails in his skin, glancing down to see the little crescent marks left along his own palm.

He sat next to Shoto and took his hand, slowly peeling back the alpha’s fingers. Shoto let him, but he wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku murmured.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Shoto stared at the wall.

“But you were right. Touya was right.”

The mention of his brother startled Shoto enough that he turned, blinking at Izuku. Izuku shrugged, answering the question before it could be asked, “He told me one day I’d grow up. And he was right. I was being childish, thinking I could be solemn guard.”

“I don’t think that’s what he meant.” Shoto gently pulled his hand away, examining his palm. “And anyway. You did nothing wrong. It was those rogues. Those—” he snorted, glared at the wall again. Perhaps he was imagining the forest beyond the walls, the rogues hiding within those forests, waiting to strike again.

Izuku let him stew, knowing Shoto needed to work through his anger, let it burn itself out. Once it was smoldering, he could step in and quench the last few embers, but until then, he needed to wait for when Shoto was ready to listen to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

Shoto just shook his head.

They were quiet a long while. Izuku took the time to look around his dwelling. Everything with the rogues had happened far too quickly for him to give much thought to what could have happened, to the fact that he had come close to never seeing this place again. If the rogues had taken him or killed him, the pack would have gathered around his dwelling and mourned him, as they did all other members of the pack when they passed. Eventually, when the mourning period had come to an end, they would have burned the dwelling and spread the ashes amongst the village. Someday, the village would do just that, when Izuku grew old and passed on. But they had been so close to that day arriving far too quickly.

He reached out a hand and ran his fingers along the woven walls. His palm prickled under the coarse material.

Without saying anything, Izuku moved closer to Shoto and leaned against his shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, Shoto leaned against him as well. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. In that moment, they both needed the comfort and acceptance of the other. While their truce walking through the forest had started to mend the rift between them, this was the final boards placed in the bridge. Alone, they were whole again. But it was a bitter reunion. Izuku could feel the tension lining Shoto’s shoulders, and no doubt Shoto felt the shiver in Izuku’s hands. When the omega snuggled closer to the alpha, Shoto curled around him, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said again.

Shoto sighed. “Just get some rest.”

Easier said than done. But Izuku was tired, and Shoto was warm and safe. He could tell the alpha needed his comfort, but his presence was also comfort enough, knowing Izuku was there with him. There was something satisfying in being there with him, something complete.

Even with Shoto there, he felt no pressure, no expectations. His presence was enough. So it was too easy to close his eyes, to let himself drift into sleep.

- - -

The splitting howl rising from beyond their village startled Izuku awake.

An alarm rose from the watchtowers around their village, echoing the howl from the forest. Something was coming.

Instantly, Shoto was on his feet, snarling. When Izuku scrambled to rise, Shoto held out his arm, demanding he stay. He peered beyond the walls of Izuku’s dwelling, then startled.

“What—?”

Izuku took the moment of distraction to press past him, seeing for himself what was happening. He also startled to a stop, his breath catching.

The village was writhing with people. Mostly alphas who paced back and forth, equal parts angry and confused, but there were also crowds of betas watching and a few omegas peering out from their dwellings. Izuku risked glancing away to count out who exactly was there, and caught sight of his father approaching, flanked by Enji and Mirai. They came to a stop near Izuku, and waited for their visitor to approach.

Their visitor was flanked by three circling and snarling alphas. Although they kept pace with the visitor, they didn’t attempt to interfere with him, both guiding him along and encouraging him to flee. Touya was among those alphas, his snarl alight with gleeful anticipation. He wanted the fight, his fingers flexed and fire flickering up his arms.

Their visitor didn’t seem to notice the guards. His gaze was fixed on Toshinori, walking steadily forward, his chin held high despite everything.

Izuku would have known him anywhere, of course.

It was the blond rogue.

And he had the two other rogues with him. He dragged one along the ground behind him, the thinner one, bound hand and foot. The larger one was laid over his shoulders. Both were unconscious.

As Izuku stared, the rogue’s gaze flicked away for just an instant, catching Izuku’s. Something sparked between them, recognition of the other, something that smoldered, a leftover ember from their fight.

It happened in a blink.

Before Izuku could react, Shoto stomped forward, ice shooting out toward the rogue. The rogue’s red eye glittered with the reflection of the ice, and he lifted his palm. Light and sound snapped through the air and Shoto’s ice shattered. Smoke spread out along the village and Izuku gasped, thinking it was the same choking snoke as before. Shoto leaped from his side and he called the alpha back with a shriek, too late.

“Shoto!”

Toshinori’s voice cut through the air, parting the smoke. Izuku took a few steps forward, wanting to intercept Shoto, but a hand on his arm held him back. Tenya. Izuku didn’t know where he had come from.

Tenya was unsettled. Even as he held Izuku back, he refused to look away from the rogues.

In the center of the village, Shoto had stopped only feet from the rogue. He was panting heavily, his body shivering. If not for the command from his pack alpha, he would have torn into the rogue. The rogue, for his part, examined Shoto with a narrowed expression, recognition also flickering through his eye. Around him, everyone, including his alpha guards, had frozen, holding their breath, anticipating what was coming next. Touya had crouched, ready to defend his brother, his smile sharp and very distinctly furious.

“That’s enough.” There was another command in Toshinori’s voice. “Let him approach.”

Shoto shuddered. The rogue lifted an eyebrow at him, and every muscle in Shoto’s body tensed.

Touya stepped forward and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, slowly pulling him away as the rogue stepped forward again. This time, he kept his eyes on Toshinori, walking forward until the pack alpha held up a hand, indicating he was close enough. Then, the rogue tossed his bound companion at Toshinori’s feet, then his second companion. The two rogues fell into a heap before the pack alpha.

Behind Toshinori’s back, Mirai and Enji shared a glance. Izuku held his breath, watching the exchange. The entire village was watching, waiting.

“You have some nerve,” it was Enji who spoke first, “coming here after what you did.”

The blond rogue didn’t even look at him.

A flame flickered over Enji’s face, displeased, but Mirai spoke first, “Why have you come here? Why have you brought these two?”

Still, the blond rogue didn’t acknowledge either of them. He kept his gaze focused on Toshinori and Toshinori alone. The intense way he watched the pack alpha was immensely insulting, and Izuku felt the pack roiling in response. The alphas around them were getting restless. It wouldn’t take much before someone else tried to attack him.

He had to do something.

Izuku shook himself out of Tenya’s grip and went to his father’s side. He felt the tension shifting as he approached, felt the attention of the pack on him rather than the rogue. The pressure of their gaze was nearly breathtaking, but Izuku schooled his expression. He only faltered when the rogue’s gaze turned to him, finally breaking his stare with Toshinori.

Izuku’s throat burned, but he forced himself to breathe evenly. When the rogue’s stare lingered too long on him, Izuku lifted lip in warning, and the rogue tilted his head. It was a small sign of submission, a concession, Izuku realized. Not one seen very commonly in his pack, but from other packs he knew what it was meant to be: the rogue, the alpha, was submitting to him. He examined the rogue a little closer, watching his body language. His gaze was intense, but he stood with his hands relaxed at his side, and he had yet to speak. As if he were waiting.

Izuku swallowed, and said, “Staring is considered a challenge.”

Understanding lit the rogue’s eyes and he blinked, once, long and slow. When he turned his attention back to Toshinori, he let his gaze soften, not quite looking into his face. The tension didn’t quite unwind, but it did loosen, the threads allowing for just a bit more movement, a bit more air. Izuku took a breath, and glanced up at his father.

Toshinori had not moved. Izuku couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Answer,” Mirai demanded.

The rogue cut him a glare, but didn’t let it linger too long. “They’re an offering.” He said it like it was obvious.

“What sort of offering is this?” Enji sneered.

“One that takes two huge threats out of your territory,” the rogue snapped.

Flames again licked up Enji’s face. “Listen here you—”

Toshinori held up a hand. Even Enji silenced. For a long moment, Toshinori kept his hand held up. The village watched his hand, waited for what he would signal with that hand.

Finally, the pack alpha lowered his hand, placing it right on Izuku’s shoulder. He lifted his chin, his teeth bared ever so slightly. Izuku so rarely saw displays of dominance from his father; they weren’t usually needed. But seeing it now, feeling the weight of his hand, Izuku immediately ducked his head in submission.

Toshinori didn’t seem to notice. He had yet to take his eyes off the rogue. “You three attacked my pack. You did harm to my pack. You did harm to my son.” He snarled the last word and Izuku swayed under the pressure of his alpha’s fury.

The rogue didn’t flinch, but his gaze slid along Izuku’s shoulder, to his father’s hand, then away. “I did.”

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

Again, the rogue’s eyes lifted. He stared at Izuku, just long enough that the pack began to rustle around him, before he turned back to the pack alpha. “My name is Katsuki,” he said, and Enji scoffed, “I came from a pack far from here, beyond your territory and far beyond this forest. I was told to come into your territory to steal an omega—” the entire pack roiled again, several snarling in displeasure, but the rogue kept going, “—and I nearly did. But I realize that was a mistake. Now, I’ve come bearing an offering.” He paused here, and knelt.

His knee dug deep into the ground underneath him and he pushed a fist into the dirt in front of him, bowing his head forward. It wasn’t a gesture Izuku was familiar with, but he understood its meaning without having to be told. He glanced toward his father, and saw that Toshinori’s eyes had narrowed.

“I seek atonement. I seek to earn forgiveness. I come with the two who worked with me to hurt your pack. And I come with news on those who sent us to hurt your pack. But mostly, I come seeking a place in your pack.” He paused as the pack around him hissed and snarled and writhed, rejecting him so vehemently that even Izuku felt weak. The rogue waited for the sound to die down, just enough for him to speak. “I would like to join you. I would do whatever needed to prove my loyalty to you. Then, if you would have me,” he looked up, and stared right at Izuku.

That ember flared to life between them again. It took a lot in Izuku not to snarl at the alpha, though he wasn’t sure why his first instinct was to do just that. But he did bare his teeth, just enough to show his displeasure at the attention.

In response, the rogue smiled. It was that same smile. He was having fun again. The snarl died on Izuku’s lip as the rogue bowed his head forward again, dipping a little deeper.

“If you’d have me,” the rogue – Katsuki, his name was Katsuki – said again, “then afterward, I intend to ask your permission to court your son.”

And that is when the pack exploded.

Chapter Text

Izuku sat in the council room for the second time that day, but this time, there were no neat lines of advisors, no calm healer tending to his wounds, no semblance of restraint.

Enji hadn’t stopped yelling since he’d walked in. Mirai was pacing back and forth, which was just about his equivalent of screaming. Torino stood watching, his eyes sharp, gripping his cane a little too tightly. Tenna was flanked by her sons, all three of them smoking from the protrusions in their bodies, courtesy of their family blessing. Shoto and Touya had joined the group and for once, the brothers were actually agreeing with their father, which was honestly the most startling part of the entire situation. Inko clutched Izuku’s arm so tightly he had long lost feeling in his fingers.

And Toshinori sat at the center of it all, his eyes closed, his head bowed forward slightly.

Despite the chaos around him, the pack alpha didn’t seem to notice. His attention was outside of that room, to the pack.

After the rogue’s declaration, half of the pack had swarmed to attack and the other half had tried to stop them. There was no consensus on what to do, on how to react, but what was clear was no one was happy to have this rogue amongst them. He was not welcome.

The three rogues had been taken away, even the blond one, only allowing himself to be taken when Toshinori said he would consider his wishes. Now the pack was in disarray, unsettled by the presence of the rogues who had attacked them, confused as to why one of the rogues had come asking to join, and enraged that he’d had the gall to ask for permission to court their aeon omega. Izuku doubted the rogue truly understood what he had been asking, but even that didn’t really matter.

His cheeks still burned, thinking about how he’d specifically come to this pack because he’d wanted to court him. It was ridiculous to be embarrassed by the thought, yet he couldn’t help it.

Of course, he dared not say anything about that. There were other issues to take into consideration, after all.

Enji and his sons were yelling about several of those reasons, arguing amongst each other even as they agreed with each other.

“He’s playing with us,” Enji was snarling in fury, even thinking about the rogue. “He thinks we’re a joke. Coming here to ask to join! As if we’d take in the likes of him!”

“Who cares if he’s playing with us or not,” Touya was smiling in that way he did only when he was furious. He strove so much to be unlike his father that his mannerisms perfectly complimented the fury raging within his father. Touya kept cool and controlled, but everything about him was sharp enough to draw blood. And unlike his father, Touya wanted to draw blood. “We have the threats. We need to take care of them.”

Shoto was the least consolable and the least coherent. “That bastard,” he kept snarling, “after what he did—! He thinks he can—!” He snapped his teeth together when Touya strayed too close. “Don’t,” he warned, especially when Touya’s grin split in a gruesome smile.

Izuku glanced to his father, waiting for him to resolve the tension, to stop father and sons from spiraling out of control. But he kept his eyes closed and he remained unmoved.

He’d been waiting for long enough. Waiting for something to happen. For someone to defuse the mounting tension. While they were all standing around and yelling pointlessly, the pack was growing in apprehension. They needed direction. They needed leadership. And yet, no one seemed willing to step up to that leadership role, too caught in whatever their own worries about the situation might be.

The longer it went on, the more Izuku felt a twitch forming in his eye. Wasn’t he the one who had been hurt? Wasn’t he the one who’d had to face these rogues? Wasn’t he the one who had been called out directly? If anyone had a reason to be inconsolably furious, it was him. And yet, looking around the room, he recognized he was one of the few who were actually calm.

The boiling point snapped over when Enji spun on Touya suddenly, unhappy with whatever the hell he had said, and took a step forward, heavy, aggressive, his scent flooding the room.

Izuku’s head spun, lightheaded and dizzy, and without thinking, he growled sharply.

Somehow, his voice rose over the chaos. Enji and his sons turned to him, blinking as if only just noticing he was in the room. Tenna and her sons stopped smoking, Mirai stopped pacing, and Torino let his grip loosen on his cane.

“Enough,” Izuku snarled at Enji and his sons. Then, when he realized what he’d said, what he’d done, he cleared his throat, fighting the uncomfortable rise of heat in his face. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Another beat of silence passed, broken by a hoarse laugh. Torino stepped forward, smirking back at Izuku with something akin to pride. “Well said.” He glanced at Enji and his sons, but only Shoto had the humility to be embarrassed by his behavior. With a gruff sort of noise, Torino turned away from them. “I’m going to talk to our new guests for a bit. See what they have to say.” He didn’t wait for permission to leave and Toshinori didn’t look up. It was hard to tell if the pack alpha even noticed Torino had left.

Izuku reached toward his father, but his mother squeezed his arm and he let his hand drop to her instead. “It’s okay,” he told her. She looked up at him with wide, watery eyes and refused to let go.

Mirai, broken from whatever trance he’d been in, tucked his arms behind his back. “Well, whether or not we are happy about it, the immediate threat is over. The three rogues have been contained. We will have to ascertain what the blond one meant by someone sending him to find an omega, but for now, we can rest assured that there is nothing hunting our territory.”

“We can do no such thing,” Enji snarled. “Clearly there is still a threat. This one we didn’t even know about! That damn brat is the only reason we know—”

“Katsuki.”

Again, everyone turned to look at Izuku. He felt a prickle of unease under their attention, but he refused to duck his head. “He said his name is Katsuki. We should at least give him the courtesy of calling him by his name.”

Enji snorted. “What does it matter what his name is? He’s a rogue. He attacked you.”

Did he? It took a strange amount of effort to keep from turning away, from biting his lip. “Everyone deserves to be called by their name. He’s a person, just like you or me.”

“You’re too generous,” Enji growled.

“And you’re too harsh.”

Izuku startled at the voice. His father lifted his head, finally, and turned his full attention to Enji. The alpha stilled under his pack alpha’s gaze, even more so when Toshinori spoke, “We have need to be cautious, but he is my guest. I said I would consider his wishes. And so I will, and you will act accordingly.”

Defiance roared like an inferno through Enji, both with a literal flame across his chest and with a spark in his eyes. “Alongside asking to join our pack, he also asked to court your son.” Toshinori gave no reaction to this, but Shoto, Touya, and Tenya all shifted, their movements mirroring the uncertain shifting of the pack beyond those walls. Izuku kept his expression neutral, even if his stomach tightened at the mention. Enji, undeterred by Toshinori’s nonreaction, snarled, “Are you going to consider that wish as well?”

“No,” Toshinori said at once, and Enji smiled, having proven his point. Toshinori, however, nodded toward Izuku. “That is not a wish for me to consider. My son hasn’t announced his courting season yet and he would be welcome to choose whoever he wished to participate. Moreover, I would support any decision he made on who he would select as his mate.”

Izuku blinked at his father, then stiffened as everyone’s attention landed on him again. This time, it wasn’t as easy to simply ignore it, to keep his chin up. Both Shoto and Tenya would undoubtedly participate in any courting season Izuku announced. Their gazes were heavy with questions and accusations, and he wasn’t at all ready to face either of them, so he stared resolutely at his father, ignoring the fact that Toshinori was staring back at him.

Needing to shift some of the attention, Izuku asked him, “What do we do now?”

Toshinori considered the fire at the center of the room. It was burning higher than usual, thanks to Enji’s and his sons’ frustrations. “We need more information. It sounds as if Katsuki would be willing to give us that information. We should start there.”

“Torino went to speak with them,” Mirai said, as if that covered everything.

But it didn’t feel quite right. Even as Toshinori nodded, accepting this without further comment, Izuku shifted. He caught a glance from Shoto, and in that look, he swore that the alpha knew what he was about to do, could see the dread welling up in his eyes.

Izuku stood. “I’ll go talk with Katsuki.”

Again, everyone turned to him. This time, his father frowned deeply. “Torino will handle it.”

“He singled me out,” Izuku said, again focusing only on his father. It was easier just to talk to his father than it was to talk to everyone else. “He obviously has some sort of interest in me. We can use that to our advantage.”

Touya snorted, brushing past both his father and brother. He leaned in toward Izuku, a little too close, and Izuku bared his teeth. Touya ignored him. “It’s not just some sort of interest. Don’t you get it? Was he not obvious enough?”

“He said he wanted to court me,” Izuku snapped. “I was there. I heard. I understand.”

“Do you? We don’t know anything about this guy and you want to go talk to him after he’s made a declaration like that? He doesn’t even know you. He just thinks you’re a pretty face and you might be an interesting lay.”

A growl split the room, so harsh even Touya flinched. Izuku backed quickly away as Toshinori rose. For a moment, Izuku swore he saw a shadow of the man Toshinori used to be, a man not to be trifled with, an alpha who could command any and all. Even withered as he was, he was still that man, and standing before Touya, he was reminding them all of that. Even as he was, he was still the pack alpha.

“You will not speak to our aeon in such a way,” Toshinori growled. Touya smiled at the pack alpha, half mocking, half terrified. Toshinori didn’t even bother to acknowledge it. “You will not speak to my son in such a way. You will remember your place.”

“My place,” Touya repeated, slow and heavy. His terror was quickly morphing into anger, and although his pack alpha stood before him, he didn’t back down, “my place is to protect this pack. Your son. You want to throw him to the wolves and see what’s left of him afterward?”

Toshinori snarled deeply and everyone in the room stepped back. Izuku felt a hand at his arm and realized it was his mother. She must be horrified, Izuku thought, and swallowed, trying to prepare himself to comfort her, to step up.

But when he looked at her, Inko was frowning at Toshinori.

“You weren’t at the Moon. You didn’t see what those rogues did. But I was there. I saw it.” Touya’s lips flinched as if he were about to snarl back at the pack alpha, but he stopped himself. “They almost killed him. What would you be doing right now if they had? You wouldn’t be welcoming them, that’s for damn sure, so what makes this any different!”

“Enough,” Toshinori growled. The command made everyone stagger, but after regaining himself, Touya just grinned.

“You can’t be mad that I’m making a valid point. So what are you going to do now, pack alpha?”

“Touya,” this time, it was Enji who stepped forward, “that’s enough.”

“He’s not wrong,” Shoto’s voice in the mix made Izuku’s head spin. Even if he didn’t step forward to match the others, there was a defiant tone to his voice. He was purposefully choosing to clash against the older alphas, to pit himself against them alongside his brother. “I saw it, too. Izuku could have died if we hadn’t shown up when we did. If he had, we’d have destroyed that rogue as soon as he stepped foot in the village, and you wouldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

“I said that’s enough,” Toshinori snarled the words, his command so fierce that if he hadn’t already been sitting, Izuku knew he would have fallen off his feet.

He had to stop this. It was getting too heated, too intense. Something was going to snap and if they snapped in here, the rest of the pack would sense it and they would snap too. Something terrible might happen. He had to stop it.

“Please,” he tried to say, but he was dizzy from the pheromones and the repeated commands of his pack alpha and father. Why was he so weak.

Movement at his side distracted him, but he didn’t realize what was happening until his mother’s hand left his arm. “Stop it.”

Her voice cut through the growling alphas. When everyone turned to her, she crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. Izuku knew well what it meant. She wasn’t mad. She was disappointed. And that was much worse.

Without acknowledging the two older alphas, she turned to Touya and Shoto. “Boys, go out and make sure the village is safe and secure. You need some time away from all this.”

Shoto’s gaze shifted immediately to Izuku, a stubborn tilt to his chin. Touya grinned, all teeth, all predator. “You don’t order me around,” he snarled.

Toshinori growled in response but Inko held up her hand. She narrowed her gaze at Touya. “Do not test me. You’re upsetting my mate and my son.”

She said it like it was a threat. And in some ways, it was. No, Inko couldn’t do any harm to Touya, physically at least. But that did not mean anyone wanted to be on her bad side. Inko wasn’t the pack’s aeon omega. She never had been. Instead, she taken on a role she was quite familiar with: mother. She mothered everyone in the pack. Everyone looked up to her and respected her, not only because she was Toshinori’s mate, but also because she treated them all like they were her pups, like they were precious to her. This had been especially true for Shoto and his siblings; she held a special place in her heart for how much they had looked after her son while he’d been growing up, but also because their own mother had withered away to nothing, and faded from life while they were still young. They had been without a mother for a long time, and she had done her part to take up that role in any way the siblings had wanted or needed her to.

In this case, it meant keeping a strict line for Touya to follow. Touya loved toeing lines. He did it all the time with his father and even with Toshinori. Inko had established early on that her lines were non-negotiable. Touya had stepped boldly over her line, and now she was shooing him right back over it.

Izuku had never given it much thought before – it was simply what his mother had always done – but now he watched her, fascinated, as she faced Touya down, unflinching even as he challenged her.

“What are you proving by doing this?” Inko demanded. “You’re just upsetting everyone.”

“I hate to tell you, but everyone was already upset because your son nearly got murdered by these rogues and your mate just wants to let them into our pack.”

Inko paused. For a second, Izuku thought she didn’t know what to say to that. But then, she glanced Touya up and down. “My mate has faith that you and the others will protect our village, as you protected by son.”

Nobody was quite ready for her words. Touya especially. He shifted from one foot to the other, clearly trying to think of some rebuttal, but there was nothing to argue against.

Inko went on as if she hadn’t noticed, “We welcome the rogue because he came in peace to our village. He seeks to atone for what he did, which means he recognizes what he did was wrong. And we have you and the others to keep us safe. You’ve already proven stronger than the rogues. They know they can’t beat you. And so we know we are safe.”

Touya still just stared at her, unable to think of something to say in return. Inko stared back, her face impassive, a bit contemplative. But it hardened a moment later. “So stop being so ornery. Everyone is stressed, as you said. Don’t make it worse just because you’re uncomfortable. Set an example for your brother.”

At this, Touya bristled, and might have argued, but Shoto put a hand on his shoulder and he settled, just enough. Izuku wondered if his mother had been talking to Shoto or to Touya about setting an example, though he didn’t really think it mattered.

With that done, Inko went to her mate, placing a hand on his arm. Toshinori relaxed under her touch, as simple as it was.

There was a beat of silence, of settling, as everyone took in the silence and realized that nothing was going to explode around them. Then, Tenna stepped forward.

“The rogue – Katsuki¬,” she corrected herself, glancing toward Izuku, “mentioned a greater threat. We should warn the other packs nearby.”

Toshinori nodded. “Yes. If nothing else, they should know about the rogues. There might be more out there.” His focus now shifted away from Touya, he had slipped quickly back to business, and he gave out orders with the same calm as he ever did, “Do what you must. Make sure the others are warned of what may be coming. We will inform them if and when we receive more information.”

Tenna nodded and gestured to her sons, who followed her out. They would split up and travel to the other packs bordering their territory, telling the story of what had happened. No doubt they would not give all the details, but Izuku was worried about what else might be out there, whether the other packs might be stalked by rogues as well. He shuddered to think of anyone else facing what he and the omegas had faced during the Moon.

“We should reinforce the village,” Mirai was saying. Something silent was passing between him and Toshinori, even as he kept speaking, “While we are accommodating so many others, we should ensure they have proper lodgings. And if there is a larger threat out there, we should consider fortifying our defenses.”

Toshinori grimaced, but turned to Enji. “See to it. Lodgings first. Make sure everyone has a place to sleep within the village tonight.”

Enji nodded and gestured for his sons as well. Neither of them moved. Touya was glaring hard at Toshinori, perhaps dissatisfied by his order or perhaps still stewing from their earlier clash. Shoto was looking straight at Izuku, his expression strained. He was asking something, but Izuku couldn’t quite tell what it was.

He met Shoto’s gaze and nodded, hoping that would be the correct answer. Shoto didn’t react. In fact, he didn’t move at all until Touya suddenly snorted and spun toward the exit, pushing past his father. Only then, Shoto turned slowly, his steps hesitant as he followed Touya out of the room. When they were gone, Izuku sighed, and felt his mother place a hand on his arm as well. He took her hand and squeezed it, hoping she would know he was okay. Or, at least, he would be okay.

Once they were gone, Mirai continued, “We’ll also need to start organizing and gathering supplies. Food and construction materials. Weapons.” He added with a slight tilt of his head.

Toshinori didn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard it. “See to it,” was all he said.

Mirai nodded and went to ready the village. And once he was gone, it was just the three of them. Pack alpha, mother, and aeon.

None of them dared the silence between them. Toshinori closed his eyes and leaned toward the fire, clearly thinking, while Inko kept her grip on Izuku’s arm, breathing steadily. When Izuku looked down at her, she seemed calm, determined. There were tears welling in her eyes though.

Izuku stared into the fire as well. He didn’t know what his father saw in the fire, what he was drawn to in it. Perhaps he just enjoyed the warmth. Whatever it was, Izuku searched for something within the flames, and saw nothing.

I have to do something.

He closed his eyes.

His place in the pack was to promote calm and stability. Usually he did that by lessening the fears of the individuals in the pack, by taking in their pain and easing their worries. Now, the entire pack had the same worry: these rogues. These rogues who were now in the middle of their village. These rogues who had attacked their omegas. These rogues who had singled out their aeon.

The rogues were the root of the problem. If Izuku wanted to ease the pack’s pain, he would have to go to the source. He knew what that meant, but the thought of facing the large rogue and the skinny rogue made his skin prickle and his throat throb. He resisted the urge to run a hand along his bandages.

The blond rogue had called him out specifically. Said he wanted to court Izuku. Which was a ridiculous notion. Why in the world would he want to court Izuku? What had he meant by that?

Izuku needed to calm the pack. But he had questions of his own.

So he turned to his father, and said again, “I should speak with Katsuki.”

A first, nobody reacted. Not even his mother. As the silence only lengthened, she sighed into it, as if resigned. She let him go, placing her hands in her lap. Izuku couldn’t quite tell if this was her approving, or if she knew she could not stop him.

Toshinori, however, didn’t move at all. As the silence went on, Izuku was aware that his father was thinking, that he was shifting so slowly he almost couldn’t see it. His eyes remained closed, but he started to pull away from the fire, turning to face his son. When he opened his eyes, they were bright.

“What would you have to say to him?”

“I could ask him why he came here,” Izuku replied.

“Torino will ask him.”

“He won’t talk with Torino.”

“Why do you think he’d talk to you?”

Izuku scoffed. “He asked to court me.”

Toshinori’s hand slammed onto the floor.

Izuku paused, startled by the show of anger. His father didn’t reveal his anger easily. Yes, he felt anger. But usually in conjuncture with another emotion. Fear or frustration or sorrow. Usually, he allowed a different emotion to bubble forward rather than let his anger show. Anger only poisoned the pack. He had told Izuku that time and time again.

Perhaps because they were alone he felt safe to show his anger. Izuku tried to piece out what his second emotion was, but all he could see was the fury etched in the lines of his father’s face.

“It is exactly for that reason you should stay away,” Toshinori didn’t snarl. But he was as close as Izuku had ever seen to it. “Who knows what he could do to you.”

A spark of indignation lit in Izuku. “I could handle him.”

Toshinori lifted an eyebrow. This time, Izuku saw exactly what he was thinking: You didn’t handle it last time; he hurt you last time; you weren’t strong enough.

Izuku let his gaze trail away. “He called me out. He listened to me. When I told him about staring. He’ll… I think he’ll talk to me. And we need to know what he knows.”

“If he truly wants to join our pack, he will speak with Torino.” Toshinori lifted his hand and placed it in his lap. It was a very controlled, precise movement. His anger had faded, but it wasn’t gone. Izuku still saw it in the way he clenched his jaw. “Inko, you and Izuku go be with the others. We’ll handle everything from here.”

The dismissal stung. Neither of them moved as Toshinori stood, turning his back to them and leaving as the others had, going to perform his duty and ensure the safety of their pack.

When they were alone, Izuku couldn’t help but growl quietly. His frustration was bleeding over, his hands clenched at the thought of being told to simply stay put, to do nothing. Even though his neck was bandaged, even though he had been the one to confront the rogues first, even though he had been called out.

His mother placed her hand over his. Her palm was warm, slightly sweaty. Izuku felt her nerves with that touch, felt her relief that it was now over. When he looked up at her, he realized his vision was blurred.

He quickly wiped his arm across his eyes. “It’s not fair.” He felt like a child, saying it.

But his mother just hummed. “What’s not fair?”

“I want to help. I want to do something.”

“You don’t think you’re doing someone now?” Inko’s voice was low and patient, understanding in a way only she could be.

Izuku growled again. “He just told me to sit here and look pretty.”

Incredibly, his mother laughed. “That is not what your father said.”

“It was implied.”

Inko squeezed his hand. Izuku met her gaze again, and this time saw she was the one crying. She took in a deep breath, then sighed. “I’ve told you many times that you do help. That you’re always helping. In your own way. But, if this is what you need to make yourself feel better, then go.” Izuku blinked, but Inko just smiled. “Please be careful. But go.”

Go.

Stay.

His mother and father were so rarely at odds. Or, rather, they so rarely told him two opposites. Usually, they simply had a different way of saying the same thing. But here Inko was, telling Izuku to ignore Toshinori’s orders, knowing full well he’d given them not as Izuku’s father but as the pack alpha. Izuku had never taken his mother to be a rule breaker, but when she smiled at him, it gave him just a little spark of courage.

Out of anyone in the pack, Izuku knew that he was the person Toshinori was least likely to lose his temper at for going against his orders. And he did need this. The pack needed this.

Izuku squeezed his mother’s hand in reply, and leaped to his feet.

- - -

Katsuki’s patience was wearing thin.

He’d done his best to listen to the rustling outside of the tiny tent the alphas had stuck him in, but it had been long enough that he was getting the feeling he was being ignored. Once, and only once, an older beta had stuck his head into the tent and glanced around, as if surprised to see Katsuki there, then left without a word. But that was it.

He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. Of course, that was difficult with his hands tied behind a pole. The tent was small and rugged around him, but thick enough to keep out the wind and the cold. It was strangely cozy, but he was very much alone. And the longer he went without hearing anything, the more he became convinced the others were simply planning his execution.

He thought about escaping. He knew he could. It would be simple to burn the ropes and blast his way out of the village. But he didn’t want to have to do that. He wanted to be there. He wanted to find a way to be accepted.

He wanted to see that omega again.

Without meaning to, Katsuki remembered the strange look the omega had given him, how he had snarled at him without any force behind the expression. It felt as if he were pretending, putting on a face he thought was the correct response for the situation. But behind it, Katsuki had seen something sparking in his eyes. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe it was anything more than curiosity. But that was enough for now.

He shifted again, glancing around for something that might make his wait a little more bearable, and that was when the omega appeared.

Katsuki knew it was him even before he saw the omega. His skin prickled and he felt the impulse to flash his fangs, to show off how strong and powerful he was. But something told him that wouldn’t go over well with this omega. Which was all the more intriguing.

So Katsuki turned toward the omega with as flat of an expression as he could muster, and relished the way the omega was glaring back down at him. The obvious challenge in the gleam in his eyes made Katsuki’s heart thrum. He wanted to rise to that challenge, to prove he could meet and surpass that challenge. The instinct to flash his fangs again came over him, but instead he smirked and watched the omega’s expression narrowed.

For a long, long moment they were silent, staring at each other, evaluating each other. They were both posturing and they knew it. But Katsuki let himself enjoy the little moment of tension between them.

After so long alone, Katsuki knew he would lose his patience first, so he let the silence snap with a sharp click of his tongue, impressed that the omega didn’t flinch at the sudden noise. “So,” he let the word linger, watching for any reaction. The omega didn’t even blink. “Alpha’s son, huh?”

The omega seemed to consider ignoring him, then lifted his chin a little. At first Katsuki thought he was showing his throat, submitting to his position as alpha. It was strange though, how the omega would simply defer to him so quickly. So he wasn’t all that surprised when the omega snarled, “And you’ll do well to remember that.”

“Oh I will.” Katsuki leaned back, hoping he looked relaxed. He didn’t want to reveal how much he was feeling the tension between them, how much he was enjoying pulling at the threads. And, he didn’t want the omega to know just how uncomfortable he was, sitting there with his hands tied. “Strange they would send you to talk to me.”

“You insulted me,” the omega said, and Katsuki frowned, “it’s only right I confront you when you called me out.”

“I didn’t insult you,” Katsuki said.

“No?” the omega lifted his lip, showing just a hint of teeth. “You demanded the right to court me. From my father no less.”

Katsuki waited, expecting more, but the omega seemed to think those words alone were an accusation. “Is that not how to express interest in courting someone?”

The omega closed his mouth and studied him. He took a few steps closer and knelt in front of Katsuki. The movement was precise and practiced, his legs folded neatly under him, his hands on his knees. It didn’t look all that relaxing, but the omega seemed content. Katsuki was suddenly very aware of the haphazard way he was seated against the pole. Quite in contrast to the neat way the omega was sitting. Then again, the omega wasn’t tied to said pole. Katsuki didn’t bother to fix his posture.

“Putting that aside,” the omega closed his eyes, perhaps to reorient himself, and when he opened them again, there was something cold and determined in them. Another shiver passed through Katsuki. He could have watched the changing light in those eyes for hours. Distracted as he was, he nearly missed when the omega spoke again, “You said there’s a threat. A larger threat. Tell me about it.”

Katsuki considered the omega, tilting his head slightly. He didn’t think the omega understood the gesture, but it made him feel better to be showing the omega his deference, even as he said, “You know, I don’t even know your name yet.”

The omega didn’t even blink.

Katsuki clicked his tongue again, and told him everything. About his being a roaming alpha and stumbling upon Alpha’s pack. How Alpha had given him the chance to join if he brought back an omega. How Alpha had told him where to hunt, that there was another pack nearby. About Jest and the strange beta’s penchant for appearing and disappearing whenever it pleased him. About how Solid and Skull-Face were now dealt with but he didn’t know if there were others, and what Jest and Alpha would do knowing Katsuki had betrayed them.

As he spoke, he watched for the omega’s reaction. He didn’t want to keep any information from him, nor did he want to make things seem less than they were, but he was also aware of the omega’s stress level, aware that he didn’t want the tension between them to change from charged to dreadful. But the omega gave nothing away. It was almost eerie, the way he could sit there and listen without reacting. If not for steady blinks, Katsuki would have thought the omega had turned himself into a statue.

And when he was finished, the omega still didn’t move. It was in the stillness that Katsuki started to see the cracks. The way the omega was holding himself together so tightly that he simply couldn’t react. It wasn’t that he wasn’t reacting. It was that he was forcing himself not to.

Somewhere, Katsuki hadn’t even noticed when, the tension between them had shifted. It wasn’t between them anymore. It was between the omega and the things Katsuki had been telling him. Between the omega and Alpha.

He remained still so long that Katsuki tapped his knee with his toe. Only then did the omega’s eyes flutter and he took a breath.

“That’s—” his jaw clenched. “A lot.”

Katsuki didn’t reply. It wasn’t his place to. It wouldn’t have helped. So he stayed silent, watching as the tension threaded along the omega’s shoulders. They seemed to fit into the natural grooves of the omega. As if he’d been so tense for so long that it was his natural state.

It was sad to watch.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Are you ever going to tell me your name?”

“Izuku.”

Katsuki was so surprised he blinked. The omega glanced over at him, then away. “My name is Izuku.”

There was a beat of silence again, but Katsuki didn’t let it go on too long. He smirked, enjoying the annoyed twitch that overcame the omega’s face at it. “Katsuki. Good to have proper introductions. And now that that’s out of the way, you said I went about asking to court you wrong. Mind telling me the right way?”

The emotion bled out of Izuku. It was impressive, watching him school his expression into something akin to boredom. Katsuki didn’t believe it for one second. This time, he couldn’t help but to lift his lip, to show off his fangs.

Izuku didn’t even blink. “Bold of you to ask that while you’re still tied to a pole.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Katsuki replied, “so I make sure I’m up front about my intentions.”

“I would ask why you would want to court someone you’ve never truly met before, someone you attacked even, but honestly I don’t really want to know.”

“Hnn.” Katsuki growled low, thoughtful. He resisted the urge to lick his teeth. “Do you really need a reason?”

Izuku ignored him. “My pack is not happy with what you’ve done. My father will hear you out, especially since you’ve given us this information, but you must know. Even if he grants you a place among us, the others may never fully accept you.”

“I don’t need acceptance.” Katsuki could almost laugh at the notion. He shifted instead, realizing just how uncomfortable he was. “I was prepared to join an egomaniac’s pack, remember? I don’t need acceptance. I just need—” he stopped himself. What was he doing? Spilling his guts to this omega?

Even as he thought that, he noticed how Izuku’s expression had softened. He didn’t look at Katsuki with pity, not like some of those in Alpha’s pack. But there was sorrow in him.

Katsuki turned away. “Anyway. That’s fine. From what I can tell, you have a good pack.”

“We do. We always have.” Izuku tilted his head slightly. Katsuki knew it didn’t mean anything. The omega seemed to be thinking. “I’m sorry we’ve had to treat you this way. It won’t be much longer.”

Katsuki snorted and shifted impatiently, stilling when Izuku smiled.

“I know you could escape anytime you want,” he bowed his head forward. The gesture made Katsuki’s palms prickle. “Thank you for cooperating. It does make a difference.”

Heat rose in Katsuki’s cheeks. He huffed, hoping to dispel some of it. “Whatever.”

Izuku rose and dusted himself off. “I need to go speak with my father. Please be patient a little longer.”

“Only because you asked nicely,” Katsuki tried to regain some of his bravado, but Izuku just shook his head.

“We’ll talk again. But no more mention of courting, understand?”

“For now,” Katsuki tilted his head, submitting the omega’s request. Izuku seemed to take in the little gesture and nodded in return.

He turned and left, the tent falling silent behind him. And once he was alone, Katsuki let out a shaky breath.

Then, he smiled.

He leaned back against the pole and resolved to wait, just a little longer.

Chapter Text

When Izuku ducked out of the tent where Katsuki was being held, he wasn’t all that surprised to find Shoto waiting for him. He also wasn’t surprised to find the alpha absolutely fuming. Of course he knew who was in that tent. Seeing Izuku step out of it – alone – would only agitate him.

But there was something possessive in the way Shoto growled as Izuku stepped closer. His eyes flashed in a way that he hadn’t really seen before.

“Did he hurt you?” Shoto asked.

Izuku gave him a flat look. “He’s tied up.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t.” Izuku stepped past Shoto, aware of the alpha falling in line behind him.

“Mirai told me it was my job to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m fine, Shoto. I was just getting some information.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone! What does it matter?”

Shoto grabbed his arm and yanked him back. There was something unexpectedly violent in the gesture, Izuku stumbling under the suddenness of it, wincing when his shoulder throbbed. Shoto pressed close to him, so close all he could feel was the alpha’s hot breath across his face, all he could see was the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“Do you even know what he means to do to you?”

Izuku swallowed. He wasn’t frightened of Shoto. Not really. But he was frightened of what might happen in that moment. “What do you mean?’

“He wanted to court you,” Shoto said, and Izuku felt annoyance bubble up from his stomach.

He tried to pull away but Shoto refused to let him go. “I heard! What does that matter?”

“We don’t know where he comes from,” Shoto said.

“So?”

“So!” Shoto snarled. His grip tightened briefly, then loosened, just enough for Izuku to yank himself free. When he stepped back, Shoto didn’t follow him. There was still that gleam in his eyes, but he took a breath and the anger faded. It left behind something raw, something vulnerable. Something very afraid. “Not everyone just lets omegas choose their mates. He clearly has different customs than ours. And sometimes, it isn’t a choice at all for the omega. Sometimes, the alphas just take who they want.”

“I know that,” Izuku growled, though he did feel a prickle of unease at the back of his neck, “you don’t think I know that? But you were right there. My father was right there. I knew I was safe. And besides. You really think I would let someone claim me as their mate?”

Shoto’s expression darkened. His gaze darted past Izuku, and when Izuku followed, he found himself looking at Enji. The larger alpha had his back turned to them, organizing the pack, mostly the alphas and betas, to start building new lodgings. Some omegas were in the mix as well, often giving him reprimanding looks when he shouted too harshly at someone. Distracted as he was, he never saw the absolute fury that Shoto turned on him.

“My mother wasn’t allowed to choose her mate,” he growled quietly.

Izuku blinked. “What? No, she must have been. All omegas announce a courting season.”

“And she did.” Shoto’s anger was unnerving. Part of Izuku wanted to shrink under his gaze, to submit to him. “But there was never a choice. My father chose her. He was a pillar of the pack. Her parents pressured her. His parents pressured her. How could she have ever said no to him?”

Izuku swallowed. He’d never heard the story before. Shoto didn’t talk much about his mother. It was still too painful to acknowledge her, what she had become as the years dripped away, as her life slowly faded before winking out. Izuku didn’t remember much about her. She had died when he and Shoto had been so very young. All he really remembered was her sad, sad smile.

“This is different,” Izuku kept his voice low, hoping it would help calm Shoto. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone make a choice for me.”

Shoto glanced again to his father, then to the tent where Katsuki was waiting. He sighed deeply and leaned back, letting his eyes close. “Just… don’t go see him alone anymore.”

Izuku frowned at the command, but he recognized now was not the time to argue. He had more important things to do.

He took Shoto’s arm, slowly pulling him forward. “C’mon. We have to find my father. I need to tell him what Katsuki said.”

- - -

It was later that night that Katsuki was finally visited by the old pack alpha.

By then, the lingering warmth of Izuku’s visit had faded away, leaving him with only the discomfort of his predicament. His hands prickled and his wrists were raw. His shoulders ached and he was starting to get an incredibly uncomfortable feeling in his gut. Although his talk with Izuku had resolved some of his worries, he was starting to have to consider his options again. He couldn’t just stay there forever, waiting for someone else to decide what to do with his life. He was going to have to take action soon.

Even so, when the tent flap opened and the towering figure of the pack alpha appeared, Katsuki didn’t allow himself to feel too much relief. He held his tongue and waited, tensing further when another figure slipped into the tent behind him. Although he’d hoped to see Izuku with the pack alpha, he was only accompanied by a tall, thin beta man, dressed in obnoxiously colorful robes. They were nothing like what Katuski was used to, but he could practically smell the formality in the intricate folds of cloth.

Meanwhile, the pack alpha wore a simple tunic and leggings, a coat of woven cloth dyed a startling blue draped over his shoulders. Katsuki had noticed how no one else wore that color. Not even Izuku, though he suspected the omega owned several pieces of blue clothing, to mark him as the pack alpha’s.

While the beta stayed back, lingering near the tent’s entrance like a guard, the pack alpha approached. It took everything in Katsuki to remain still, to not show his displeasure with a growl. He didn’t show his displeasure to the pack alpha. But he sure as hell didn’t show his throat to him either.

The pack alpha said nothing as he approached, going behind Katsuki and untying the ropes around his wrists. Katsuki grimaced as he pulled his hands to his lap, wincing at how his body ached. His wrists were bright red. The pack alpha frowned when he noticed.

“I’m sorry you’ve been here so long. We had… preparations to see to.” The pack alpha glanced to the beta, who gave nothing away, his countenance impressively stoic.

In that expression, Katsuki saw a shadow of Izuku. The omega had learned how to control himself by watching the beta, he suspected. The eerie stillness and silence better fit the beta than it had on Izuku, but the effect was the same. Just as Katsuki had struggled to read Izuku, he had no idea what the beta thought about the entire situation, other than he seemed slightly disapproving.

As the pack alpha came to sit before Katsuki, his legs tucked under him just as Izuku had sat, Katsuki rubbed his wrists. He thought about complaining, but knew it wouldn’t make a difference if he did. He didn’t accept the pack alpha’s apology either. He just stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

The pack alpha stared back, his frown thinning as the moments wore on, until Katsuki remembered what Izuku had told him: Staring is considered a challenge.

He dropped his gaze to his hands.

As soon as he did, the pack alpha said, “You’ve spoken with my son.”

There was a note of accusation in his tone, though Katsuki didn’t understand why. “He came to see me. I certainly couldn’t go find him to talk to him.” He didn’t glare up at the pack alpha, but he hoped his tone conveyed his displeasure.

“You insulted him,” the pack alpha said.

Katsuki paused. Frowned. “Yeah. He said that too.” He examined a particularly sore bit of his skin, seeing a blister coming up. He forced himself not to pick at it. “Where I come from, it’s tradition for alphas to announce before the pack their intention to court an omega. Especially before their family. So intentions are known up front.” He chanced a glance up. The beta’s face remained impassive but the pack alpha’s features had softened slightly. “I didn’t mean to insult him.”

“You haven’t apologized for it.”

Katsuki considered this. “And I won’t,” he said finally. In his mind, there was nothing to apologize for. He had done everything proper. “But I will say that I am sorry to have insulted your customs.”

The pack alpha took a deep breath. For a second, Katsuki thought he was going to get mad, but the old alpha eventually just shook his head. “I want to hear what you told my son. I want to hear everything. Including what you didn’t tell him.” His eyes landed on the scars marring the right side of Katsuki’s body.

Katsuki tensed, feeling a prickle of defensiveness. He found himself staring at the alpha but didn’t turn away. For once, he wanted to make sure his challenge was understood. “I’ll tell you about Alpha and his pack. I’ll answer your questions. But don’t ask about anything before that.”

“At least tell me this,” the pack alpha shifted, eying him up and down. He was testing out the boundaries between them. Prodding at Katsuki and watching when he hissed. He supposed only a pack alpha could get away with something like that. “How far did you come to reach this forest?”

Katsuki barked out a laugh. Dry and bitter. He smiled, though it wasn’t much of a smile. It had too many teeth and too much frustration. The pack alpha didn’t react, but the beta behind him stiffened uncomfortably.

“I walked until I passed out. Then I got up and walked again until I couldn’t anymore. Time and distance didn’t really matter much. I was just focused on walking away.”

“You were running,” the pack alpha concluded.

Katsuki’s smile snapped into an easy snarl. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Were you being chased?”

Such an easy question.

Katsuki growled. “You want to hear about the bastard who sent me after your pack or do you want to just piss me off more?”

“Show respect to our alpha,” the beta hissed, but the alpha raised his hand.

He hadn’t looked away from Katsuki yet. Katsuki made sure to keep his gaze. If there was a challenge between them, he was pissed off enough to ensure he won.

“Tell me,” the pack alpha said.

Katsuki snorted. He took a breath, considering his next words, and started talking.

- - -

They all gathered for dinner that night. The entire pack. Nearly two hundred people, all of them crammed into the dining hall. The heat of so many bodies around him made sweat drip down the back of Izuku’s neck. Or that was what he convinced himself of. It wasn’t the fact that everyone was looking at him. At the bandages at his throat. It wasn’t the pressure of the pack waiting for him to act, to speak, to calm them. It wasn’t that at all. Or so he kept telling himself. The heat was easier to deal with than everything else.

His father sat beside him, and on Toshinori’s other side was his mother. His mother kept her lip stiff but she was nervous as well. Toshinori was facing the rest of the pack, leaned forward and speaking to Mirai in an undertone, the beta knelt before the raised platform they sat upon. Izuku was the only one of the three to keep his chin up, even though he was getting more and more uncomfortable.

They had gathered ostensibly to eat, but everyone was aware their pack alpha was preparing to speak. There was still the matter of the rogues to settle, and even though the rogues were being handled, everyone wanted to hear it from their pack alpha. They needed the confirmation that everything would be okay.

How little they knew that not everything would be okay.

There was another pack out there, a roaming pack, who had set their sights on their own. For whatever reason, they had been chosen as prey for this roaming pack, and there was no indication at the moment whether or not the roaming pack was planning something more. Would they be content with having sent the rogues to investigate? Or would they want more?

Izuku suppressed a shiver as sweat dripped down his back.

Toshinori finally nodded to Mirai, who bowed his head in return and stood. The pack’s gaze snapped to him, watching as the beta stepped to take his place amongst them, joining several younger alphas and betas that he mentored. Even they looked worried as Mirai took his place amongst them. He sent them a sharp look, but they only stared back, confused, concerned.

Izuku took a breath, willing for himself to settle. But he couldn’t. Not completely. Not with everyone watching.

Toshinori lifted his gaze to the pack, letting out a long sigh as he did so. In that sigh, a hush fell over the room, as even short whispers silenced midsentence, as all that echoed back to those seated on the platform was the heavy breath of anticipation and dread.

Izuku turned to watch his father as he spoke. He didn’t know what would happen next. After telling Toshinori what Katsuki had said, Izuku had been practically banished to his dwelling to wait until he was summoned. He didn’t know what Toshinori and the others had done while he paced back and forth in his home, wondering what else he could do to help, and he didn’t know anything more sitting before the pack. Whatever Toshinori was about to say, he felt the urge to stop breathing to better hear every word.

When the pack alpha spoke, he spoke slowly, but with a thread of unbreakable strength, “Today has been a heavy day.” He paused, fighting a grimace. The pack shifted before him, sensing his pain, his frustration. It echoed their own. It was so easy for them to flow with their alpha, to feel as he did. Or, perhaps it was Toshinori who reflected his pack back to them. “I would like to tell you all that everything has been handled and that all is well. But the truth is, that isn’t the case.”

A collective breath escaped the pack, the dread rolling free. Izuku shut his eyes against the flashes of panic and pain that overcame his packmates’ faces.

Toshinori kept speaking, “The three rogues who attacked us during the Omega Moon were unassisted, but they were not alone. They were sent by another pack to poke and prod at us, to test us, to see if they could take from us. And we have proven that they cannot.” He paused again, letting the wave of determination and reassurance wash over the crowd. Izuku recognized he was letting them have this moment, that they needed even that small moment of reassurance. Then, the pack alpha spoke again, “We do not know their ultimate goal. We do not know if they will attack again or if they will move on. But we will. We will find them, and if they intend harm, we will make them pay. We will stop them. Of that, I have no doubt.”

A short growl rippled through the crowd. A few alphas, a mix of betas, even an omega or two lifted their lips in a snarl. Affirming what their pack alpha had already said. They would not be defeated by anyone.

“For now, we need to stay together. Together, we are strong. Together, we cannot be taken by surprise. And together, we will weather any storm that may come. Of that, I also have no doubt.” Another wave of growls, stronger. The dread had gone, replaced with raw hurt and determination. It edged on anger, but didn’t quite reach it. Just close enough to give the pack strength.

Izuku swallowed down a growl of his own, wanting to add his voice to the pack. But he wasn’t just a part of them. He was a leader amongst them. And he needed to keep calm. Especially since he was starting to have an idea of what would come next.

Toshinori allowed the pack to revel in their frustration and determination, to settle into the mindset of protecting their own, of preparing to fight for what they loved. He allowed them to set aside their fear for something more. Something that let them breathe a little easier, listen a little closer.

Then, he lowered his chin and gazed out over all of them. The pack leaned toward their alpha, wanting to hear more, almost begging for his voice. He spoke for them all. They had felt the power of his voice as their own. And they wanted to hear it again.

This time though, Toshinori kept his voice calm, steady, a little quieter. Preparing for the storm to come. “As most of you were witness, one of the rogues arrived in our village, bearing the other two as offerings. We have confirmed that these three are the ones who were present at the Moon.”

Present, Izuku noted, they were ‘present,’ not, ‘they were the ones who attacked us.’

Because he knew what was coming next.

“This one gave us all the information I have relayed to you today. He has warned us of what is hunting us. He has allowed us to spread the word of danger to the other packs nearby. And, he has asked for a place among us.”

The pack stilled. There were a few grumbles under the quiet, but mostly, everyone watched their alpha raptly, unsure of what he would say next.

Toshinori didn’t let his gaze faltered. “Our pack is family. Our pack is strong. And our pack has always been welcoming. I know we will continue to be so.” He paused, gauging the reaction, but nobody dared to move. Izuku was clenching his fists tightly, hoping no one noticed.

He glanced out over the pack, hoping to see something in their faces, but all he saw were eyes and eyes and eyes, staring back at him.

Waiting.

Toshinori paused a breath longer, then announced, “His name is Katsuki and for now, I will allow him a place in our village. Let him prove himself to us. He is strong. He is knowledgeable of our enemy. We will need his strength and knowledge in the time to come. But, mostly, we will wait and see if he can live amongst us. We will just have to wait and see.”

Even as Toshinori spoke, Izuku felt a welling of dread rise up in him again. The pack alpha had welcomed Katsuki into their village. But not in their pack. Effectively, he would still be an outsider. An outsider who couldn’t be trusted.

Part of Izuku wanted to snap at his father, to demand what the hell he was thinking, why he would put Katsuki in such a terrible position. But he dared not act out in front of the pack, knowing many would turn to him to see his reaction. To stare at the bandages on his throat.

So Izuku struggled to remain calm, to breathe evenly, to unclench his fingers and appear he was supporting his alpha’s proclamation. Even as inside he was boiling with fury.

Toshinori nodded to someone at the back of the room and everyone turned. Kenji stood at the back of the hall and at Toshinori’s signal, he pulled aside the opening, revealing Katsuki standing there. He stood in the growing dark of night, the fires from inside the building throwing deep shadows along his face and chest. Mostly though, the darkness found the folds in his scars, highlighting them and twisting his visage into something monstrous.

A small omega nearest to the entrance grabbed her pup and pressed away from Katsuki, baring her teeth in displeasure. Katsuki ignored her, focusing his attention forward. When Toshinori signaled for him to approach, he did so.

In the moments before he reached the raised platform, Izuku’s dread vanished. He watched as Katsuki approached, aware of every movement he made. Once out of the dark, the firelight spread more evenly over his body, smoothing over his skin and revealing the hard line of his jaw, the broad slope of his shoulders. The spark in his red eye. Even the gray one – Izuku wondered for the first time if he could see out of that eye at all – seemed to glint in the light.

Katsuki walked amongst the pack, who moved away from him, allowing him to pass but not allowing him near. He was amongst them. But he was not part of them. Izuku could see it already.

He was tempted to snarl something at his father about it, until he noticed someone standing partly in Katsuki’s way. The red hair gave him away. Eijiro.

Izuku’s stomach tightened. Eijiro had been at the Moon, had seen what the rogues had done to them. He was a kind beta, but he was also one of their most loyal and stalwart warriors. Izuku remembered Eijiro carrying him back to the village, remembered being thankful the beta was there. His strength and kindness had softened some of the pain and fear of the attack. And Izuku had known that, had the rogues appeared again, he would have fought to protect not only him but the other omegas as well.

As Katsuki approached, he didn’t quite stand in the rogue’s way, but he didn’t move aside like the others. Instead, he stuck out, apart from the rest of the pack but still with them. Katsuki stopped several paces from him, facing the beta with a strange sort of look. Izuku held his breath, waiting for whatever was to come next.

Eijiro was quiet for a long while. Although Izuku couldn’t see his face, he imagined the beta examining Katsuki under the new light of their communal fires. He hadn’t seen any of the rogues during the Moon, only the aftermath of their attack, so this was the first time he was coming face to face with those who had hurt his pack. Around him, the rest of the pack tensed. It rippled through the crowds until every single person was watching, waiting, holding their breath.

Eijiro raised a hand. Izuku braced himself, readying to leap up if Eijiro attacked Katsuki. Katsuki narrowed his eyes as well, though he made no move to stop the beta. The moment seemed to stretch so long, so far, until the threads between the pack were shivering, threatening to snap.

Then, Eijiro placed his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. Something akin to surprise split along Katsuki’s face, revealing something strange, something young and vulnerable. Or no, that wasn’t it.

The startled look Katsuki gave Eijiro was open, like a raw, bleeding wound. Eijiro’s hand on his shoulder drew out a hidden hurt shoved deep beneath the bravado. It was there and gone, a mistimed blink and Izuku would have missed it, but it was there.

“Hey man,” there was almost a chuckle in Eijiro’s voice, “welcome to our village. You need anything, you let me know, okay?”

The moment of vulnerability had passed, leaving Katsuki with that determined stare and slight frown. At first, it seemed he wasn’t going to say anything to Eijiro, but after a breath, he asked, “Who’re you supposed to be?”

“Eijiro!” The beta slapped his hand along Katsuki’s back. Katsuki bared his teeth in displeasure, earning a ripple of warning growls from those nearby, but Eijiro’s laugh rose over the moment of discomfort. “Been a while since we’ve had a new face around here! Looking forward to hanging out!”

Katsuki clearly didn’t know what to do with Eijiro. He stared at the beta, as if waiting for the act to break, but there was no act. This was simply who Eijiro was. Kind. Welcoming. And purposefully oblivious to the disapproval of the others around him. And yet, for how much the pack clearly disapproved, Eijiro’s acceptance of the rogue did cut some of the tension shivering over the crowd. People trusted the beta. He had a good sense about him. And, in the end, he was loyal to a fault. If he thought Katsuki was a threat, he would have said so.

Izuku made a note to thank Eijiro after all of this was done.

Sensing that things were stalling a little too much, Toshinori cleared his throat. Eijiro glanced over his shoulder, realizing for the first time that everyone was watching him, and ducked his head, smiling apologetically. He turned to Katsuki and nodded once before finally stepping out of his way, just enough to allow the rogue to pass, but close enough to show he wasn’t afraid.

Katsuki paused for a moment longer before moving on. Everyone kept stepping out of his way, allowing him to approach Toshinori, but with markedly more curiosity than before. Mothers still dragged their pups away and alphas still glared at him, but there had been a subtle change in the air. Izuku marveled at how just one person, just a spunky red-haired beta, could change so much with so few words.

Finally, Katsuki stood before them. He glanced over the pack alpha, meeting his gaze for long enough before he glanced toward Izuku. It was the first time they had acknowledged each other since their conversation. Izuku felt something tingling along his arms as Katsuki stared at him.

He gave a little nod of encouragement, hoping it would be enough.

Katsuki lingered, stretching the moment as long as he could, before he turned back to Toshinori. The pack alpha had his chin lifted, his back straight. He surveyed Katsuki with a careful glint in his eyes.

And suddenly, it occurred to Izuku that things were about to get rather awkward. Because there was no way at all Toshinori had remembered to tell Katsuki how he would be welcomed to the pack, the ceremonies around it.

In fact, Katsuki seemed to realize a moment too late that he, also, was a little lost on what to do next. If Toshinori understood what was happening, he gave no indication. The one being welcomed always acted first, so he sat in anticipation of that first action, something that might never come. Izuku had the urge to lean over to his father and whisper something to him, but he knew that wouldn’t be proper. And it was too late anyway. Katsuki was already acting.

The rogue let his gaze drop and glanced around him, searching for something. Those closest backed away a little more as his eyes roamed over them, snagging on something. He reached forward, and snatched a knife from a nearby table.

There was a scramble of movement, a sudden cacophony of shrieks and snarls. Half the pack drew away from Katsuki while the other half moved to intercept him. Izuku felt breathless watching as Katsuki turned back to his father, the knife in his hand, but before he could move, there was an arm in front of him, shoving him back.

He didn’t know where Shoto had appeared from, but he was there, standing in front of Izuku, intent on protecting him, his face almost eerily calm.

Toshinori’s eyes had widened slightly, but he didn’t move, not as the pack roiled, not as Katsuki lifted his hands. The rogue never let his eyes leave Toshinori.

There was a sudden jerk, a harsh swipe of the knife, and blood splattered outward. A pup screamed and a beta whimpered. Katsuki kept his focus on Toshinori, holding his hand out to him. He’d cut a deep line along his palm, letting it bleed freely, blood dripping to the ground before him. He tossed the knife aside, ignoring when one of the warriors snatched it up and away from him. No one dared to approach. No one dared to act. Not even Shoto. In the moment of silence before Katsuki acted again, Izuku could feel Shoto shivering.

Then, Katsuki knelt and pressed his palm into the ground, dragging it down until it revealed the smear of blood left from his cut. “I give you my blood, alpha,” he said, his words low and slow, a ceremony he knew by heart. Izuku felt his breath catching as Katsuki’s face softened, as something bitter and sad overcame him. But only for a moment. The rogue dug up a fistful of dirt, holding it tightly in his hand. “I give you the ashes my body will leave behind after death, alpha.” He scattered the dirt before him, before Toshinori. The pack alpha observed his ceremony with quiet dignity. The pack held their breath as Katsuki touched his palm to his forehead, leaving a streak of blood. “I give you my eyes, my ears, my tongue, my mind, to be as your own, alpha.” He bowed his head forward, bearing the back of his neck as if to the fall of an axe. “I give you all I am, alpha, to use as you will. And in return, I hope one day you will claim me as one of your own.”

He waited. Izuku waited. The pack waited. There was a desperate sort of wave happening over the pack, as they looked from Katsuki to Toshinori, waiting. Just waiting.

Toshinori did not react immediately. He sat there looking down at Katsuki, having watched and listened to everything. They sat there long enough that Izuku swore the day was long gone, that the sun would fall and rise again before anyone would move, and they would have to wait an entire day for some sort of resolution.

Then, with the rustling of feathers and heavy cloth, Toshinori pushed himself up.

There was nothing about what was happening that was familiar. Nothing that could have centered the pack in something routine and simple. Everything about the moment was completely unusual. And somehow, it was better that way. There was no mixing of familiar and strange. It was all strange. It was strange what Katsuki had done. It was strange as Toshinori rose. It was strange as the pack alpha stepped off the raised platform to meet the rogue.

And yet, there was nothing strange in Toshinori leaned forward to press his hand against Katsuki’s head. His touch was gentle. Grounding. Izuku felt a tingle at the back of his head, an echo of the pack alpha’s fingers. Several others shifted, having felt the pack alpha greet and comfort them in such a way.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. This wasn’t how people were greeted and welcomed into amongst the pack. But with a simple touch to the head, it felt so real. This was their pack alpha. This was what he did for everyone. And after the strangeness of the past few days, here he was, doing what he had always done.

Izuku felt a breath of relief wash out of him and he smiled as Toshinori pressed down on Katsuki’s head, gently, gently, before standing. Katsuki glanced up, clearly confused, even more so when he saw Toshinori smiling.

“You need not give yourself to me, young one.” His voice was old and soft. It rung over the pack. Called to them, as it always did. “I would never ask you to give yourself to me. All I ask is you be willing to give yourself to my pack.” He paused, then smiled. “Our pack.”

Katsuki’s lips thinned. So close, Izuku could see a thin sheen of water overcome him for a second, then he blinked and it was gone. He bowed to the pack alpha again, and the rogue – no, he wasn’t a rogue anymore – Katsuki rose. Toshinori gripped his shoulders and smiled once more before turning back to his place on the platform.

“It’s time to eat. We have much to see to in the coming days. But for now, let’s eat and be together. Let’s not think about whatever lies beyond these walls. For now, all that matters is those of us here, within these walls.” He looked purposefully at Katsuki at these last few words.

Katsuki’s lips thinned again and he nodded, and then it was done.

Chapter Text

Katsuki was claimed by the red-haired beta soon after he’d been dismissed by the pack alpha.

Toshinori had turned back to his family and gathered them up to eat with him. While he was turning away, Katsuki managed to catch Izuku’s eyes, but the omega was a little busy dealing with that two-toned alpha with a savior complex. Just after Izuku broke eye contact with him, smiling at whatever his father had just said, the alpha stepped between them.

The two-toned freak’s glare could have melted stone. If staring was a challenge, he was only a flick of the wrist away from a fight, and he wanted Katsuki to know it.

Katsuki stared back, refusing to let himself be the one to look away first, not even allowing himself to blink. The alpha’s eyes narrowed, and he only looked away when Izuku suddenly pulled at his arm. The omega did not look happy, whispering something to the alpha before shooting Katsuki a glare of his own.

There wasn’t a challenge in his glare. Only a command.

Stand down.

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders to loosen a line of tension in his back, and turned, finding himself faced with the red-haired beta.

“Hey!” He lifted his hand, greeting Katsuki again as if he had already forgotten who he was. “Come sit with us.”

Katsuki glanced around the room, but he didn’t see many other places he could go. There wasn’t an open place he could sit by himself, everyone else seemed quite content to completely turn their backs to him, and he doubted he’d be welcomed to sit next to Izuku at the pack alpha’s table. So he followed Eijiro to a small fire toward the middle of the crowd.

There were several other younger pack members seated around it, all of them looking up at Katsuki with a mixture of curiosity, boredom, or fear. Eijiro confidently plopped down right in the middle of them all, grinning ear to ear.

“Everyone, this is Katsuki!”

“We heard,” a blond-haired beta grimaced, then in a loud whisper said to the red-haired beta, “Why did you invite him over here?”

“You got a problem with me?” Katsuki snapped.

The blond-haired beta jerked back, his upper lip trembling. A black-haired beta beside him snickered but didn’t seem bothered by Katsuki’s presence. Eijiro patted the spot next to him, which Katsuki took, kneeling before the fire and casting a look around the others gathered.

Along with the blond and black-haired beta males, there were three females sitting next to one another, an omega with long threads of flesh hanging from her earlobes, a black-haired omega with her hair drawn into a ponytail with a severe sort of look around her, and a pink-haired beta who was smiling absently.

Eijiro pointed to each of them, introducing them one by one, though Katsuki quickly found himself losing the thread of who was who. He assigned them names he could remember for now, Ears for the girl with the strange earlobes, Ponytail for the severe girl, Pinkie for the pink girl, Duncehead for the moron blond, and Flat Face for the black-haired boy. Eijiro stood out amongst the rest of them, Katsuki knowing he’d remember the strange beta’s name, though he did think his hair was pretty stupid. Shitty Hair seemed appropriate, but he kept that one to himself.

Naming each of them off in his head inevitably reminded him of the names he’d given the two other rogues. Unlike now, he’d never been given the names of Solid or Skull-Face. And he doubted he would ever know their names.

He grimaced without thinking and caught Pinkie pursing her lips at him.

“Why’re looking so glum? You don’t want to hang out with the cool kids?”

Ponytail frowned at Pinkie before gesturing to the table in front of them. “You must be hungry. Please, eat.”

The food sat before him was oddly familiar, though certainly unlike anything he’d had before. He recognized roasted meat, though not what animal it had come from, bright vegetables that looked like vines and brown stubs with rounded caps, something ground into a red paste that smelled lightly fermented. The only thing he recognized was the fish sitting at the center of the table. River fish. Most of the time they’d fished from the great lakes near their village, but to the far north you could fish the rivers as well. Katsuki had never gone far enough north to see the river himself, not until he’d fled after his village was destroyed. And when he’d waded through it, he hadn’t given much thought to the fish or the fact that he’d never seen the river before. Mostly, he’d just wanted to get to the other side, to keep running.

The glassy eye of the fish stared back at him. Watching him. He picked up a knife and speared the eye, watching as it burst and something greasy spilled out of it.

“Aw man,” Eijiro pouted like a kid, “why’d you do that? The eye’s the best part!” Duncehead made an appropriate grimace, tucking his hand over his stomach.

Katsuki barely paid them any attention. With the eye destroyed, he realized the feeling of being watched hadn’t come from the fish. It had come from those at his back, openly staring. He didn’t look to see how many of the pack were glaring at him. He could feel it, and shrugged his shoulders to dispel the discomfort.

“It’s cruel to let the fish watch you eat it,” Katsuki muttered. He’d heard that once from an elder, though he was fairly certain only she believed fish could still watch you after you’d roasted them.

Eijiro blinked at Katsuki and peered down at the ruined eye of the fish distrustfully. “Well next time I’ll just eat the eye first!” He licked his lips to prove his point.

Katsuki lifted his hand from the knife, allowing Flat Face to pull it free to set it aside, Eijiro taking this an invitation to twist the entire head of the fish free and lay it on his plate. Before doing so though, he turned the head over and hungrily slurped out the other unruined eye, causing Duncehead to turn an impressive shade of green.

The others slowly started dividing food between themselves after that, taking bits and parts of the fish and the roast, spearing pieces of the vegetables to lay on their plates, and using a clean knife to spread the red paste along the flesh of the fish.

Ponytail suddenly stopped in the middle of reaching for more. “Are you not hungry?”

Everyone turned to him in a dizzying single sweep of their heads. They moved as one, unconnected yet still together somehow. Katsuki felt a prickle run down his back at the sight of it.

“I am,” he said simply.

Ponytail gestured toward the food. “Take what you want.”

Katsuki surveyed the table, then glanced back up at her. “At the table, betas and omegas eat first.” He felt a little foolish having to say it out loud. Even more so when everyone else shared a mystified glance.

A laugh behind Katsuki snagged everyone’s attention away from him, not that Katsuki noticed much. He felt his shoulders hunch at the noise, at the realization someone had sneaked up behind him and he hadn’t even noticed. At the realization of just who was standing behind him.

Izuku stepped forward and crouched down, reaching across the table to pluck one of the brown-capped vegetables and pop it into his mouth. Katsuki made a conscious effort not to watch him chew, not to notice the strong line of his throat when he swallowed.

“We eat together as a pack here. All of us. Alphas included.” He smiled at those gathered around him, and Katsuki watched as the others smiled with him.

“Evening, shula,” Ponytail bowed her head in greeting, and the others echoed her, each of them smiling at Izuku, calling him shula, aeon, but never Izuku.

Katsuki frowned, unsure of what to do with this information, but let the thought trail away when Izuku said, “May I borrow Katsuki for a moment? My father wanted to speak with him.”

“Of course!” Eijiro grinned while Duncehead crossed his arms and muttered something about Katsuki already getting in trouble with the pack alpha.

Katsuki was halfway through deciding whether or not he’d have to show this beta exactly who he was when Izuku rose. “Katsuki?”

When the omega called to him, Katsuki stood without even thinking about it. There was something easy and natural in moving to the sound of his voice. Izuku leaned toward Eijiro to whisper something to him, the beta shaking his head and saying something about not needing a thank you, before Izuku turned to Katsuki.

“C’mon. Don’t worry. My father won’t bite.”

Katsuki did as Izuku told him.

The pack watched raptly as Izuku led Katsuki back up to the platform, where Toshinori sat with the same small omega woman. A young beta was crouched over a heated rock nearby, cooking for the pack alpha. When he moved, Katsuki caught the awkward movement of a stiff limb. Perhaps from a hunting accident? It seemed unlikely a beta his age would have been wounded in some sort of territorial fight. Katsuki thought about asking Izuku, but before he could, they were suddenly standing before the pack alpha.

“Father,” Izuku greeted, and sat next to Toshinori, taking a spot that was clearly his.

“Ah, Katsuki,” Toshinori smiled, “join us. We should talk about expectations.”

Katsuki did as the pack alpha said, naturally pulled to the open spot right next to Izuku. Before he could get close, he felt something cold at his back and turned, just in time to see that two-toned alpha approaching. Their eyes met. Held. Their silent challenge picked up right where they’d left it, unresolved.

“Shoto.”

Izuku’s voice pulled the alpha’s attention just as did Katsuki’s. Still, as quickly as he glanced away, he turned back to glare hard at Katsuki one last time before taking the open spot next to Izuku, sitting very close to the omega.

Seeing the two of them together, and the fact that both Izuku and Toshinori had been so offended by Katsuki’s proclamation, he thought this must be the answer. Whatever customs this pack had, it wasn’t the same as his own, but these two must be promised to each other. It was the only explanation he could think of.

The thought soured his mood faster than carrion ripening under the blazing sun.

He took a seat directly across from Toshinori, leaving ample space between him and the other alpha, aware that he was being watched. At first, Katsuki tried to focus on everything else, on how Toshinori invited him to eat first, how the beta with the stiff leg was cooking for them, how he offered Katsuki tea and food, but always, always, Katsuki knew that damn alpha was watching him.

Eventually, he gave up trying to be polite and stared right back, narrowing his eyes in defiance. The alpha’s shoulders tensed and he leaned in toward Izuku, who had turned to speak with the omega woman, his mother by the looks of it. As the alpha crowded his space, Izuku paused and gently nudged him back, though the alpha didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy locked in a silent confrontation with Katsuki.

Eventually, the alpha had leaned so far into Izuku’s space that he was practically draped over the omega. Katsuki allowed himself to look away from the alpha only to watch as Izuku’s lips curled into a snarl, a growl rippling out his throat. The alpha didn’t notice, not until Izuku suddenly jerked forward and snapped his teeth at the alpha, and only then did he move away. Izuku snorted and went back to speaking with his mother, ignoring her startled expression and the fact that his father was staring at him so intently he hadn’t noticed he’d tipped his drink over and spilled it onto his plate.

Katsuki allowed himself a smirk, but only let it linger long enough for the alpha to see it. Then, he caught a disapproving glare from Izuku and focused on his food instead. The food was strange but delicious, and a lot safer than trying to have an open glaring contest with whoever this favored alpha was.

They ate over pleasant, mindless chatter that neither Katsuki nor the two-toned alpha indulged in, save for when they were asked direct questions. Katsuki soon picked up that Izuku’s mother was named Inko and the alpha was named Shoto. He tucked those names away carefully, though if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t think he’d be calling the alpha by that name anytime soon. He’d have to think of a more appropriate name.

Halfway through their food, Toshinori finally cleared his throat, breaking through a brief pause in conversation. Izuku, Inko, and Shoto turned to their pack alpha, clearly understanding this as a sign that he wanted to speak about something important. Katsuki followed their lead, sitting up a bit taller when the pack alpha nodded to him.

“Your words earlier were powerful. I assume they weren’t spur of the moment?”

“No. All pack must dedicate themselves to our leader,” Katsuki said. “I spoke those words to our pack omega when I was old enough to start hunting.”

Toshinori and Izuku shared a glance. “Pack omega?” The alpha repeated.

“Yes.” Katsuki said no more. He didn’t want to think about the old woman who had led their pack. Didn’t want to think about what had become of her.

“I see.” Toshinori took another moment to think, then went on, “Here, we don’t require such things. You needn’t dedicate yourself to me. Your loyalty should be to the pack, first and foremost. After that, your loyalty should be to the aeon of our pack. I merely speak for the pack. Or, I try to. I act for the will of the pack. Our aeon acts as the soul of the pack. If anything, your words would have been better spoken to him.” His gaze drifted to his son, who smiled briefly if a little self-conscious.

“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” Izuku said quickly, though Katsuki barely heard him.

He remembered what the others at the table had called Izuku: shula. Aeon. The way they had all brightened in his presence. He remembered the vicious reaction of the alphas who came to the omega’s defense that night under the moon. He remembered the violent reaction the pack had to his declaration of want to court the omega. How such a declaration had been seen as an insult.

It all pieced together too perfectly.

Katsuki just sighed. Of course he had to pick the most powerful omega in the pack. His mother would have howled with laughter. His father would have just shrugged. Even Katsuki found he wasn’t all that surprised. All it meant was it was going to be a bit more of a difficult journey to get close to the omega.

And that wasn’t even including his guard dog.

Shoto observed the conversation without speaking, but always when he looked at Katsuki, his expression narrowed, as if the mere sight of him was disturbing. Yeah well, two could play at that.

Katsuki ignored the other alpha, focusing on Izuku instead. “You didn’t mention you held a spiritual position in the pack.”

“Um, it’s not really spiritual,” Izuku shifted uncomfortably. “Just… I make sure everyone is taken care of. I make sure they’re safe and happy. They come to me if they need something, and I make sure they get it.”

“He’s our center,” Toshinori added when Izuku struggled for words, “and he’s still young. A pack is always a bit more zealous of their aeon when they are young.” This time, the pack alpha shared a glance with Inko, an amused grin peeking through, though she looked anything but amused. Katsuki got the impression she hadn’t forgiven him for being a part of the attack on her son. Not that he blamed her for that.

“I see,” Katsuki said eventually. Even if he didn’t understand the details, he understood the concept.

“Knowing that,” Toshinori went on, “I’m sure you can also understand that your attack on my son was devastating to our pack. Many will not forgive you that transgression.”

Without meaning to, Katsuki glanced toward Shoto. The alpha glared right back, anger seeping through the disgust. In just one look, Katsuki could tell Shoto would have given anything to be able to rip him apart.

“That’s fine,” Katsuki growled. When he spoke next, he made sure to look right at Izuku, and that Izuku was looking back at him. “I have no intention of ever hurting your aeon. If it’s what the pack wants, I’ll give my life for him, as I would have for my pack omega.”

Izuku sat tall as Katsuki spoke, that same stiff position he’d taken during their first meeting. Trying to hide just how uncomfortable he was. It was a front, of course. Katsuki could tell he did it only for the benefit of those around him.

His mind wandered as he stared at the omega, wondering if he wasn’t so stuck up if he would have pouted or squirmed in embarrassment. The thought was vaguely amusing, and Katsuki decided he’d have to see if he could get the omega to let his guard down enough to see what that would look like.

The thought broke when Shoto leaned between them, purposefully breaking their eye contact. He did at least have the decency not to stare openly, pretending instead to be reaching for something on the table between them. By the time he leaned away, Izuku had turned back to his father. Katsuki took the hint and did the same.

He found the pack alpha did not seem all that amused anymore, but he merely cleared his throat once again, “We must make preparations for what this roaming pack may do, and part of those preparations is to construct new dwellings for those pack members who used to live outside the village. You will be granted one of these dwellings. Usually, we would ask you to build it yourself, but because we are short on time, I will ensure one is built and given to you.”

Katsuki snorted. “If everyone else has to build their own place, then I’ll build mine.”

Even before he finished, Toshinori was shaking his head. “I understand why that may be your first impulse, but we have need of you elsewhere. As you may or may not be aware, there are several packs that border our territory. We are… mostly friendly, and have already sent messengers to each carrying news of this roaming pack. We are expecting to hear from them soon. They may have questions. They may want to speak with you themselves. We will have to be in agreement on how we respond to any questions.”

Although he was dancing around it, Katsuki read exactly what he meant right out of the wrinkles on his face. His presence in the village marked them as the ones in the best position to deal with the roaming pack. Therefore, it put the others nearby at a disadvantage. Since Alpha knew Katsuki was with them, he might decide to go after one of the other packs. If he did, they would need the information Katsuki had, and Toshinori controlled who got that information.

But he was also a rogue. An outsider. And a threat, in and of himself. They would have to be careful how they presented whatever information he gave them. His position was precarious, and it put the pack in a similarly uneasy position with the others.

“I’ve never been known for my diplomatic skills,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Oh, we noticed.” Izuku grinned when he said it. When Katsuki shot him a glare, he merely shrugged it off.

“I was a warrior and a hunter for my pack. Good with my hands. Never had to learn how to be nice to others.”

“Some would argue that learning how to be nice to others is a more fundamental skill than learning to fight,” Izuku said. He was still smiling, just at the edges of his lips.

Sensing the challenge between them, Katsuki rose to meet it. “It’s all a fight. Using words or fists doesn’t make a difference. I’m sitting here because you wanna talk strategy. What’s different from that if we were talking about invading one of the other packs.”

“The difference is, we aren’t.” Toshinori’s voice rose over them. He shot some sort of warning look to his son, who ducked his head, a clear sign of submission. “’We want to maintain our friendly relationship with these packs. We don’t want to invade anyone, and we are actively attempting to stop anyone else from being invaded. And to your point, you aren’t used to handling sensitive conversations. Which is why we need to talk about expectations for you.”

Katsuki wanted to glower, but knowing Shoto was watching, he kept his expression passive, watching for what the pack alpha would do and say next.

Before he could, however, Izuku cleared his throat. “Is this really the best place to do this?” He made a subtle gesture out toward the rest of the pack. Katsuki hadn’t noticed it before, but many of the pack were watching. Watching him. Watching their pack alpha. Watching Izuku. Evaluating them, though he didn’t quite know for what.

“We’ll talk specifics at a later date. For now, though, let’s talk about how you are to conduct yourself while within the village.” Toshinori leaned forward, peering into his tea.

Ah, so this was the real reason. He wanted to set clear boundaries for Katsuki. To tell him where he could sit and what he could do while sitting there. Just as he would be expected to perform for these other packs, he would need to perform for this one as well. Until they could learn to trust him, he needed to act strictly by their rules.

He grimaced at the thought, having always had a distaste for this sort of dealings, but he caught a glare from Izuku and let it go. It wouldn’t be forever. Just until he earned his place with the pack.

Fine. He’d play along for now.

“For tonight, you’ll sleep here, in the hall. Guards are posted throughout the village, so do not attempt to leave unless you are summoned.” That was his first warning. If he tried to leave those walls, he’d be seen as a threat and handled as such. Katsuki examined the high ceiling and the sturdy walls around him. At least they were more interesting than the walls of his last prison. “In the morning, the pack will break their morning fast together and afterward, my advisors will be gathered. We’ll speak over what to do of the other packs then.”

Katsuki nodded, not that he had much choice in the matter.

He was still examining the walls of his new prison when a small voice asked him, “Do you… will you need anything to be comfortable for the night?”

Across the table from him, Inko looked small. Her fingers clenched her skirt tightly, but she looked Katsuki in the eye. Despite the tension within her, he sensed no malice in her question, just genuine curiosity.

In some ways, she reminded him of the old lady who ran his pack. But maybe only because she was small.

He tilted his head to her, not knowing if she would understand the gesture. “I’ve dealt with worse the past year or so. I’ll be fine.”

Inko frowned deeply, her lips puckered as if she’d found something bitter between her teeth. “No. I asked what you needed to be comfortable. Not just fine.”

The distinction was strange. Truth be told, Katsuki didn’t really know what to do with it. So he said, “A blanket to lay on would be nice.”

This still didn’t seem to satisfy Inko, but she nodded once. If nothing else, the request seemed to give her something to focus on, something to do, as she immediately turned and signaled a nearby omega girl, who leaped up to her and listened as she whispered in the girl’s ear.

Izuku cleared his throat, jerking Katsuki’s attention away. He hid a grimace. He was going to have to get used to the omega’s presence quickly, before he broke his own neck on accident. It was even more embarrassing for Katsuki to realize Izuku hadn’t even been trying to get his attention.

“Father,” he said, keeping his voice low, “I have a suggestion. Katsuki met Momo earlier. She would be an excellent tutor for him to learn the etiquette of our pack, since his customs are so different from our own.”

Toshinori considered this, then tilted his chin in Katsuki’s direction. “I think that should be Katsuki’s decision. If you would like to learn more about our customs, young Momo is a wonderful choice. She comes from an esteemed family within the pack and has always had good manners. But she isn’t an alpha, of course. You’d do well to learn from an alpha as well.” For some reason, his gaze slipped over to Shoto. Shoto so purposefully avoided his pack alpha’s gaze that he just about stuck his entire head in the bowl he was eating from.

“Um, maybe we should introduce Katsuki to Tenya,” Izuku suggested gently, “he is very well mannered. And an alpha.” He said it like an afterthought.

Toshinori frowned between his son and Shoto, who still refused to look at him. “Of course. He would be a good choice as well. In any case,” he refocused on Katsuki, “most of our pack will understand small transgressions from someone who does not know our customs. If you happen to insult someone, then apologies work well. I don’t anticipate any problems. However.”

Something dark came over the pack alpha. He seemed to swell in his seat, to rise taller than he had before, his form bulging, the wrinkles in his face filled with muscle. Something about the transformation made every hair on Katsuki’s body rise. He had never questioned why Toshinori was this pack’s alpha. But he very suddenly understood, quite plainly, why that was so.

“Under no circumstances,” even his voice felt different, deeper, commanding, “will you speak of courting to any of our omega. Omegas are the only ones who may decide when and if they wish to announce a courting season. You will speak of such things to no one. Especially to my son.”

Ah, so that’s what it was about. A smirk almost broke through Katsuki’s expression, but he stifled it and instead raised his chin to show his throat. “I understand, alpha.”

Toshinori only narrowed his eyes, examining Katsuki strangely. Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki saw Izuku ducking his head, a little more urgently when Katsuki glanced toward him. He echoed the omega’s movements, ducking his head before the pack alpha, and almost immediately, he relaxed.

So much for small transgressions being forgiven. Katsuki didn’t speak that out loud.

“Very well,” Toshinori sighed. “The last order of business we must discuss is your repentance to those you harmed. Specifically Izuku and Miyu.” It took Katsuki to realize who he was speaking of – the other omega they had attacked. “The pack as a whole will either accept you or not, but if either Izuku or Miyu refuse your presence in the pack, then we will have to have a different discussion.”

“I understand,” Katsuki kept his head low. “I mean no harm to your son or Miyu. And I’ll do whatever is asked of me from them.”

“For my part,” Izuku’s voice was just slightly too chipper for the subject matter. As if he were secretly grinning. “All I ask is that you serve my pack well. That you do your best to protect them from Alpha and his pack. If you do, then I will consider all forgiven.”

Katsuki chance to meet the omega’s gaze, found Izuku wearing that grin proudly. But proud of what? Himself? Seemed unlikely. Katsuki? That would be strange. Was it just another practiced expression? Perhaps.

Katsuki dipped his head again. “I swear, I will.”

“Good,” Izuku said, as if the matter was completely settled. Next to him, Shoto snorted but said no more, especially when Izuku shot him a withering look.

“I think Miyu requires a bit more time before she will be willing to speak with you. So for now, give her any space she requires,” Toshinori said.

“Of course,” Katsuki dipped his head again. So far, the pack’s requests weren’t unreasonable. A bit annoying, perhaps, but there were aspects of pack life that had always annoyed Katsuki. And besides. He was almost relieved by these small annoyances. They were so much less than the struggles he’d fought through as a rogue. He would have endured so much more if just for the chance to stay, and part of him was grateful that Toshinori didn’t ask more of him. He wouldn’t have refused, and he had a sense that Toshinori knew that, no matter how grave the request may have been.

The pack alpha nodded once more. “Now. Let’s finish eating, shall we?”

Katsuki rose, see this as a dismissal, but Izuku said, “Where are you going?”

He paused, glancing between those at the table. Only Shoto seemed happy to see him trying to leave. Still, he stood there uncertainly until Toshinori gestured for him to sit. “Stay with us for now. I would speak with you more once we are finished.”

Ah, yes. There was more. Katsuki knew everything had seemed too easy. No doubt Toshinori would give him even more restrictions and warnings once the others had left. But he obeyed the pack alpha, retaking his seat and navigating his way around the strange foods of the pack.

More than once, he glanced up, trying to catch Izuku’s eyes. The omega rarely looked over at him, but every time Katsuki tried, he saw Shoto watching him. There was a threat in the alpha’s eyes. A warning louder and clearer than anything the pack alpha had said.

With just a flash of his eyes, just the slight raise of his lip, a small shift toward Izuku, Shoto told him, Mine.

Katsuki didn’t rise to the bait. He let Shoto spin himself up, until finally Izuku noticed the alpha crowding him again and gave a warning growl. Rightly corrected, the alpha moved away, and Katsuki took a little joy in watching him squirm.

- - -

“Katsuki, please stay a moment longer.”

Katsuki thought it was a little funny, the grave tone the alpha took. Asking him to stay as if he were allowed to go anywhere else that night.

Still, he stayed as the others rose. Izuku jerked at Shoto’s arm and nodded toward the nearest door, dragging the alpha with him, none too pleased. Katsuki wondered what their conversation would be, whether Izuku would chew him out for being so territorial or if it would be over some other slight. He realized he didn’t know their relationship all too well, and was desperate to know everything. Izuku didn’t seem consumed by Shoto as a young omega in love would be, but Shoto certainly acted like a possessive newly mated alpha. There was something strange about them, something he couldn’t quite put his finger to, but he let that go for the moment. If he found a good time, he would ask about it, but not now.

Inko excused herself soon after, leaving Toshinori and Katsuki alone. The rest of the pack drifted away as well, until there were only a few groups lingering around small piles of embers. Among them, Katsuki spotted Eijiro, the beta frowning up at him, looking concerned. Katsuki didn’t quite know what to make of that. They had just met, after all, and yet Eijiro lingered nearby as if he were waiting for a signal from Katsuki, waiting for him to call him to his side.

Still, he felt a little relief, knowing someone was there who didn’t outright distrust him. Whatever the beta’s reasons, he was glad to have someone looking out for him. It had been a long, long time since anyone had bothered to be concerned for him.

As it were, Katsuki had to focus on Toshinori, who was gathering empty bowls and platters together, handing them off to a young beta pup who was missing their front teeth. When they noticed Katsuki watching them, they smiled brightly, goofy grin and all, and hurried away when Toshinori waved at them.

Then, they were alone.

It was the first time they had spoken without an audience present. The first time Toshinori had come to speak with him, that beta male in the painfully bright robes had been with him. Then, they had spoken in front of the entire pack, and then in front of his family. Now, they were alone.

One-on-one conversation had always been a little easier for Katsuki, but he felt unprepared to face the pack alpha. He wouldn’t have Izuku there to inform him of any missteps, and Toshinori had already proven that he wasn’t as forgiving as he claimed to be. Whatever happened, he would have to navigate the conversation carefully and hope he didn’t accidentally insult the pack alpha. That would be his luck, after everything.

Either way, he had to be ready, as the pack alpha lifted his head and gazed up at Katsuki, a hard line to his brow. “I wanted to be the one to inform you,” he spoke quietly, lowly, whispering a secret, “that Taiga passed on this morning.”

Katsuki blinked, trying to think back. Had he met anyone in the pack with that name? He didn’t think so. No, in fact, he couldn’t have. He hadn’t started to be introduced to the pack before that afternoon. Other than Izuku.

Toshinori seemed to read the confusion on his face. “The rogue you brought in. The skinny one.”

The clarification washed through Katsuki, easing his immediate worries. No one in the pack. And truth be told, he wasn’t surprised to hear Skull-Face had died. His injuries had been severe. By the time they’d reached the pack, he had already given up. It had just taken his body a little while longer to catch up with his mind.

“I never learned their names,” Katsuki said simply, “we didn’t care about names. Only about surviving. Doing what we needed to.”

Toshinori nodded. The line of his brow had softened. “I am sorry. It sounds like it has not been easy for you.”

Katsuki considered this. He flicked a small crumb toward the fire, but the flame didn’t spark. “You shouldn’t be sad. That guy had a mean spirit. He’s the one who hurt your son the most.”

Toshinori nodded gravely. “You should know, also, that I have not told my son what has happened.”

Right. If he’d died from his injuries, then it would be Izuku who had killed him. The omega’s sword had pierced deep into his back, delivering the fatal blow within just a few moments of arriving. Before the fight had even really begun.

“Has he killed anyone before?” Katsuki asked.

Something shifted over the pack alpha’s face, though Katsuki couldn’t quite read it in time. “Have you?”

Katsuki stared back. He searched for the best way to say it, and eventually lifted his arm, bearing the scars of his past. “I never got their names. But they made sure to carve a piece of themselves into me so I’d remember.”

“How many?” Toshinori asked.

Katsuki let his hand drop. “I wasn’t concerned about counting. I was trying to save my pack.”

“And did you?”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Understanding flashed in Toshinori’s eyes. He looked at Katsuki with something akin to pity, but not quite. Something deeply mournful, though what he could possibly be mourning Katsuki didn’t know.

“I wanted you to know, but I ask you not tell my son anything.”

“You aren’t going to tell him.” Katsuki meant it as a question but it came out a statement. Toshinori wouldn’t look up at him. “He’ll find out. You can’t keep a death secret. Especially not when you’re going to have the other packs breathing down your neck, right? They’ll want to know. You’ll have to tell them. You want him to find out from them?”

Toshinori’s eyes hardened again. Katsuki had come to recognize it as the same look alphas got when someone got too close to their young pups. But Izuku wasn’t a young pup anymore. And as much as Toshinori clearly coddled him, Katsuki had seen the streaks of defiance and strength within the omega. He wasn’t one to be confined. Sooner or later, he would step away just long enough to find the truth.

No amount of inner strength would prepare him for the news that someone had died by his hand.

“I won’t tell him,” Katsuki growled, “doubt I’d have the chance to anyway. But you should tell him. Before he finds out. And I don’t really give a damn that he’s dead. Like I said. Of the two of them, he was the worst sort you could find.”

“Rather harsh to say of a dead man,” Toshinori said.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “That bastard yanked a cord around your son’s neck and would have done much worse to him if allowed. Death doesn’t make that right. Your son’s still living with the burns.” He touched his throat, the same place Izuku now wore bandages to hide his wounds.

Despite his harsh words, Toshinori didn’t react. There was something about him that Katsuki couldn’t quite read, but he was slowly parsing through it, slowly piecing it together. Eventually, the pack alpha said, “You’re too wise for your age.”

It didn’t sound like a compliment. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, but Toshinori didn’t answer his silent question. “I should see to the pack. I’ll send for bedding to be delivered to you. You may sleep wherever you wish. If you require anything, call for Kenji. He will be outside, keeping watch.”

Katsuki read the silent threat in the pack alpha’s words, but he had no intention of going anywhere. “Fine.”

“Sleep well, young Katsuki.” Toshinori said his voice softly, much softer than he had before. He seemed to linger over the name, just a breath too long. Katsuki waited to see if the pack alpha would require anything else from him, but he rose without further comment. As he left, he gestured to the others who had lingered, Eijiro and a couple of others. They followed in his wake, Eijiro pausing just at the door to glance back over to Katsuki. The beta lifted a hand to him before ducking out.

Then, he was alone again.

Katsuki sighed, finding more air in his lungs than he thought possible. It all came rushing out of him at once, a flood so deep that his shoulders sagged forward and he felt a little lightheaded.

Skull-Face was dead.

Katsuki growled absently and stood, going over to the smoldering firepit at the center of the room. It was warm there, a bit too warm perhaps but he missed the heat. The plains had boiled in the summer. He never thought he would miss such a feeling. Sitting next to the fire wasn’t the same, but it was comfortable, vaguely familiar. He closed his eyes, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

He wondered if he would see Izuku. He wondered what he would see if he met Izuku tomorrow. If he would be bright and happy, or haunted and broken. The tragedy of everything was suffocating. Izuku had not asked for any of this. And yet, he would have to face it.

Katsuki lifted his hand, staring at the deep lines of scars along his arm. He didn’t let himself thinking about it for long, letting his arm rest in his lap and lifting his other, unmarked hand to hold to the fire. The heat burned. The pain was pleasant and welcome.

- - -

Izuku didn’t think he would be able to sleep that night, so he was still awake when his father appeared at his dwelling.

“My boy, may I come in?”

It was dark out, the sun long set. Despite that, Izuku was still thinking about everything that had happened that day. From first speaking to Katsuki and learning about the threat to their pack to the conversation they had had over supper. Then, after, when Izuku had told Shoto to stop clinging so much to him, only for Shoto to stare sadly back at him, as if he were a loyal dog and Izuku had just kicked him out of sheer malice.

The look still haunted him, but he felt suffocated by the alpha’s presence. By all of them. His father and Mirai and the other alpha guards set to circle where he walked. The pack.

The coat of feathers and beads hadn’t sat well on his shoulders since he’d returned from the Moon. He had slipped it on a couple of times, but had always taken it straight off. The others had noticed, he knew, but they were all polite enough not to ask. They were more interested in the bandages at his throat anyway.

Perhaps it wasn’t that much of a surprise when his father called to him, but Izuku still had to suppress a sigh. “Come in,” he said, trying to sound pleasant.

Toshinori stepped inside. Izuku had had half a mind to ask if Shoto was still moping around his dwelling, but the deep lines on his father’s face stayed him.

“Father?” He asked.

Toshinori sat heavily, his weight all too much and all too little for a man of his state. Without being called, Izuku sat before him, hands in his lap, and suddenly he knew he was the loyal dog, sitting at the feet of his father, waiting to be praised or kicked.

“There’s something I need to tell you, my boy.” Toshinori wouldn’t look at him.

Izuku swallowed. He thought his father must finally want to talk to him about how he’d disobeyed his order, how he’d spoken with Katsuki. “Yes, alpha,” he said, though Toshinori grimaced at the title.

The old pack alpha sighed, and with it, Izuku saw the same weight he carried, the echo of a burden like a self-inflicted cut.

Then, Toshinori told him.

- - -

Izuku held himself upright until Toshinori had gone. He barely noticed whether his father looked concerned or not, but when Izuku told him he was tired and wished to get some sleep, the pack alpha simply nodded, kissed him on the forehead, and left him.

He listened to Toshinori’s footsteps, catching the subtle drag of his left heel, waited until he couldn’t hear it anymore.

Then, he rose.

It was a foolish thing, maybe, to hope Shoto had followed him. That he would be happy to be his dog again. But when he peered out into the night and saw the alpha sitting nearby, glaring out toward the dark as if he alone could keep it at bay, Izuku had never been so relieved.

“Sho.” His voice came out a whimper, and Shoto startled violently.

He was there immediately, holding onto Izuku, and Izuku gasped, unaware that he’d been falling apart so quickly. He held onto Shoto so tightly his fingers tore through the cloth.

“Easy,” Shoto’s voice was steady, if unnerved. “What’s wrong?”

Izuku couldn’t say it. He couldn’t think about it. He held onto Shoto, knowing if he let go, he’d fall to pieces, scatter into the wind like dust. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him standing there was the heavy coat on his shoulders, and Shoto’s arms around him.

There were no words for what Izuku felt. No words he could find. What he found was a mournful whine, deep in his chest. Something that resonated up from the earth and through his feet, up his legs and through his heart, before finally leaving him. Shoto shuddered into the noise, as if he, too could feel it in his core.

“Easy,” he said again, though even that word was a struggle. He took a step toward Izuku’s dwelling, then another when Izuku forced his feet to follow the alpha.

Between one step and the next, he blinked and was suddenly standing before his nest. Shoto was trying to guide him into it, but Izuku resisted.

“Stay,” he whispered into the alpha’s chest.

Shoto swayed. “Don’t ask me that, Izuku.”

“Stay,” Izuku hissed.

Somehow, that settled it. When Izuku blinked next, he was curled up amongst the cushions and blankets of his nest, the curtains drawn tight. Shoto was beside him, stiff and sweating. Clearly uncomfortable, which did give Izuku a flicker of amusement before it died away.

“What happened?” Shoto asked again.

Izuku let out a breath. The air was thick with Shoto’s scent. Cold and coppery. Safe. Shoto was safe.

“The rogue died.”

Shoto startled again. “Katsuki?”

Izuku shook his head. “The other one. The one I—” he broke off, and Shoto wrapped an arm around his waist, pulled him closer.

He was glad Shoto didn’t make him say it again. He was grateful to have the alpha to press against, to bury his face into, to cover him and keep him from the world. He was all too relieved to be able to close his eyes against what had happened, and pretend for the night that he and Shoto were simply napping together as they used to when they were pups.

And in the morning, when Izuku woke to Shoto still beside him, the alpha still peacefully sleeping, he let out a grieving sigh.

This had only happened because he had insisted on being solemn guard. This had only happened because he had forced Shoto and his father to teach him how to fight. This had only happened because he had insisted that he be a weapon as well as a comforting hand.

And yet, he had never been ready to face the consequences of what he had insisted. Of what it meant to be a warrior, to fight for the pack, to stand up and face their enemies.

The pack had nearly lost him because he’d been so foolish. Someone else had lost their life because he had been panicked and rash in his attacks.

Curled next to Shoto, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, Izuku heard a voice whispering to him.

Someday, you’ll grow up.

He pressed his nose deep into Shoto, and purred when the alpha shifted to accommodate him. They fit together. They always had.

The pack needs an alpha to protect them.

The pack needs a beta to guide them.

The pack needs an omega to comfort them.

His father was withering by the day.

Mirai served as head beta, but everyone knew he was growing weary of the station.

And Izuku? Izuku had been born to be aeon omega. He had been born to sit at the head of the pack and comfort and care for them.

But had had also been born to choose the pack’s next guardian. He had always been meant to have someone at his side, someone who could protect the pack, or guide the pack.

It had always been his destiny to do what was right for the pack.

Someday, you’ll grow up.

Izuku lifted his head to look around his dwelling, but the curtains were pulled and his world was small. So very small. He snuggled back against Shoto’s chest and thought about what he would say to his father that night.

Chapter Text

It had been a long, long time since Katsuki had curled up under a well-woven blanket, his back to a smoldering fire, and closed his eyes for sleep without fear of something doing him harm. Strangely, when he tried to relax, he found he was out of practice. Although the fire was pleasant and the blanket was soft and warm, all things inviting him to slip into sleep and rest as he hadn’t been able to do in so long, he kept opening his eyes, searching for dangers around him. Even if he knew there were no more dangers, the instinct to watch was ingrained into him.

Sleep did come, after some time. He slid into it as if slipping into a hollow he didn’t quite fit. At the edge of his sleep, he was aware of his body, laying under that blanket, next to the fire, of the building still and dark around him. He missed the small burrows he’d slept in for months, the close walls that pressed in on him, giving no room for anyone to attack. The open air felt wonderful in his lungs, but the hair on his arms stood on end, searching for where the walls started.

While he slept lightly, he knew when someone entered the building. At first, he wondered if it was morning, if someone had come to start the fires for the day. But no. It was still night, the pressure of the dark wreathed over the village, the fire dark but still warm at his back.

Someone stepped into the building, and someone else stepped in behind them. He heard a few murmured words, felt as they approached. His mind sharpened, yanking him up from sleep, and he lifted his head, half-baring his teeth.

Before he could get a proper look at who had come, or even growl in warning at them, a weight laid over him, something warm and soft. Another blanket. Katsuki blinked away the dark, but before he could see properly, one of the figures had spun away and hurried out the building. All he caught was the glimpse of a willowy figure, the fading scent of river trees, their roots wet and slick with algae. The second person he recognized. It was the alpha guard. Kenji, he thought.

Kenji gazed down at Katsuki, his weathered face relaxed, and crouched next to him. Katsuki let loose a little growl in warning, struggling to get his hands free from the blankets in case he needed them. Kenji didn’t flinch away from his warnings. Instead, he gently placed a hand on Katsuki’s head.

“Sleep. You need the rest.” His voice was as weathered as his face, wrinkled and cracked in familiar places. He sounded like any of the elder alphas who had roamed Katsuki’s village, those who doled out advice whether you wanted it or not.

Katsuki let his head lower, resting back on his arm. Kenji kept his hand over Katsuki’s head for a moment longer, then lifted away, standing and going back to his post. Katsuki watched him through a half-lidded gaze.

It had been a long time since he’d lived in a pack. But the gentleness with which Kenji handled him, the extra blanket placed over his body, the way Toshinori had also placed a hand on his head, had told him he need not throw himself to the alpha. It was strange. Almost too kind. He wanted to keep prepared, waiting for when the act would drop. But he was starting to suspect it wouldn’t.

Izuku had said their pack was good. Most people thought their pack was a good one. But maybe, just maybe, Izuku had been right.

Katsuki let his eyes close again. This time, sleep pulled him deeper, into a burrow under the earth, one that was both cool and warm, one that pressed in around him and kept him safe. He slept well until the first rays of morning.

- - -

Izuku left Shoto asleep in his nest.

It was the first time he’d left anyone in his nest, but he wasn’t really thinking about that. Mostly, he was still thinking about the rogue’s death, about how his selfishness had done so much harm, about Touya’s voice still in his head. His feet dragged through the dirt, his gaze cast down. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing until he found himself standing in front of the dining hall.

Kenji was still on guard, leaned against the heavy wood walls. The long night had dragged deep lines down his face and his eyes were sunken and dark from exhaustion. Izuku wondered if he looked like the old alpha, worn and tired to his very core.

“Shula,” Kenji greeted, “you’re up early.”

Izuku didn’t even try to smile. “Is Soren here yet?” The beta was always up earlier than everyone else. He liked caring for the pack gathering spots, taking pride in keeping the places where the pack came together as clean and comfortable as possible. Nobody had given him the task and yet he’d claimed it with enthusiasm.

Kenji nodded. “He is.” He stepped aside. “Careful of the rogue.”

Izuku flinched, though a moment later he realized the alpha had meant Katsuki, and suddenly he knew very clearly why his feet had brought him here.

Inside, he spotted Soren first, the beta sweeping the floors. The mats that the pack had scattered throughout the building the previous night were stacked carefully in the corner, alongside a pile of bedding. The space was cool, sending a bit of a shiver over Izuku. He realized he’d forgotten his coat again, clutching at the thin fabric of his tunic as he stepped inside. When Soren blinked at him, surprised to see him, Izuku looked quickly away, not wanting the beta to see that something was terribly wrong.

In looking away, he spotted Katsuki in the middle of the room, crouched next to a stack of firewood. He seemed to be halfway through tending the main firepit, but his eyes were locked on Izuku.

A shiver went over him as the alpha examined him, picking him apart with indifferent precision. They hadn’t known each other very long, but Izuku swore the rogue could tell exactly what he was thinking, exactly why he had come.

Maybe that was for the better. Or perhaps for the worse. Izuku didn’t really know.

Still, he walked over to Katsuki, hardly able to breathe as the distance between them disappeared, as from one blink to the next, Izuku was standing before Katsuki, the alpha still looking up at him, eyes scanning him, brow furrowed in an approximation of curiosity.

Katsuki only turned away to stack a fresh log into the firepit, arranging it with the others he’d already placed. He’d organized them in a strange sort of hut-like shape, all tilted upward to a single meeting point. Between the logs, Izuku thought he saw bits of charcoal, grass, smaller branches, like a bird nest huddled between thick tree branches.

“Why do they call you shula?”

Izuku blinked. He hadn’t been expecting the question, and it rattled him so much he couldn’t remember the answer. Katsuki glanced over at him, an eyebrow lifted. He scanned over Izuku once more, then said, “Good morning, also.”

“Yes.” Izuku swallowed. It didn’t feel like a good morning. “Um. It’s an… old word. I, uh, that is, we’re not exactly sure what it means. But, um, it’s more like a title. I guess. Or a way to honor the aeon.”

“To honor you,” Katsuki said without looking away from the firepit. He was stuffing more dried grasses between the logs.

Izuku didn’t know why he was so intent on watching Katsuki, on noticing how his hands moved, how the muscles under his skin rolled, how the tendons stretched. Perhaps it was easier to notice that than to watch Katsuki examining him so deeply. “I, uh, yes. I suppose. Though it would honor any aeon.”

Katsuki seemed to think about this. “Should I call you shula, then?”

“No, you don’t need to. No one needs to. They just… it’s habit, I guess. They called the previous aeon shula, after all. And he died soon after I was born. So then they started calling me shula. It’s just… habit.”

Katsuki lifted his hand and sparks flew from his palm, bouncing against the logs and snagging into the nest within. It caught, smoked, and Katsuki leaned forward to blow over the fledgling flame.

As he worked, Izuku sank to the floor next to him. A lump was swelling in his throat as he steadied himself for what he would have to do next. Watching the fire rise under Katsuki’s careful administrations helped, but only until the fire was sufficient and the alpha turned to face him.

When he did, Izuku bowed his head forward. “I-I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice lowered.

Katsuki made a sound like a laugh, but there wasn’t much joy in it. “Weird that you’re apologizing to me.”

“One of your companions,” Izuku swallowed, trying to force his voice past the lump, “he, I… I’m sorry. He’s… passed on.”

“I know.”

Izuku jerked up, surprised by the steady glare Katsuki was giving him. He’d expected pain, anger, something between, but he found nothing of the sort in the alpha’s eyes. Instead, his glare was hard, searching. Where before his scanning had felt casual, curious more than anything else, Katsuki looked at him the same way Izuku glared out into the darkness around his village, alert to anything out of place.

“Your father told me. And I’ll tell you what I told him: that guy wasn’t my friend. He would have hurt you worse if given half the chance, and he’d probably planned to kill me along the way. So don’t feel bad he’s dead. It’s no great loss.”

The lump dissolved so quickly that Izuku had to swallow again to stop from choking. His teeth clicked together as his mouth snapped shut.

When he said nothing more, Katsuki spoke again, “Tell yourself whatever you have to to make it easier. And in this case, it wasn’t like he was a good person. He’d hurt you. He would have hurt you more. You had no choice but to defend yourself and your pack. Take whatever solace you can from that and don’t dwell on it.”

Understanding settled deep in Izuku’s guts, the remnants of the lump hardening to a heavy stone. Katsuki was… comforting him. Because he knew how the rogue had died. He wasn’t concerned about the rogue’s death. He made it seem inevitable. But he was worried about Izuku’s reaction.

Izuku wondered just how deeply Katsuki had seen into him.

“I… I hadn’t wanted to kill him.” His voice was so small. He felt small, sitting before Katsuki. He hadn’t felt that in a long while. After all, he was the aeon omega. He couldn’t afford to be small.

“I know.” There wasn’t anything inherently comforting in the way Katsuki said it. Somehow, that made it better to hear. Katsuki wasn’t just trying to make him feel better. He was just agreeing with the facts. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. So do whatever you have to for yourself.”

Izuku stared into the fire, aware that Katsuki had yet to look away from him. What else could the alpha possibly be looking for in him? “You make it sound so simple. But it’s not.”

Katsuki shrugged. “It is simple. He’s dead now. Can’t do anything about it. You’re still alive. You have to face your own struggles still. At least now he’ll be back where he belongs.”

Back where he belongs.

Izuku swayed at the words. This time, he met Katsuki’s examining eyes, saw in them the plain curiosity in them. It was strange to think that a hardened rogue like Katsuki could have such naked curiosity in him. Izuku would say it was pup-like, but nothing about him was pup-like. In fact, it was hard to imagine Katsuki had ever been a pup at all. Izuku could almost believe he’d manifested in the world as the snarling, defiant, insanely brave alpha that stood before him.

And yet, there remained that little spark of wonderment, of wanting to know more.

“What do you mean he’ll be back where he belongs?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki sat back, settled in. Izuku felt an urge to do the same, but didn’t. “Everyone returns to where they belong when they leave this world. They’re guided to where they were meant to be. If it’s his family, he’ll join his ancestors. If it’s some friend, then that’s where he’ll go.”

“And what if he had nobody? What then?”

Katsuki flicked a shard of wood toward the fire, watching it land just out of reach of the flames. “Then he’ll be guided to the right person. Perhaps someone else who is lonely. Or someone he was meant to meet in this world but never got the chance to. He’ll find someone. Everyone is guided to who they were looking for, after this world.”

“That’s…,” Izuku didn’t finish his thought. He hadn’t expected such a sentiment from Katsuki, though he recognized it was simple a belief he’d brought with him from his previous pack. He’d never heard of such a belief in the After before, but there was something soothing in the thought. Izuku didn’t know what happened After, only that he wasn’t yet ready to face whatever it might be.

When the silence grew a bit too long, Katsuki pushed himself to his feet. “Anything else you needed to say?”

“N-no. No, sorry for interrupting.”

“You weren’t interrupting.” Katsuki offered his hand and Izuku took it, almost without thinking. The alpha pulled him back to his feet. For a moment, Izuku thought that was going to be it, that their conversation would end, but that light of curiosity was still glittering in Katsuki’s eyes. Sensing there was more, Izuku paused as well, giving him the moment to speak.

He took it without much more hesitation, “You and Shoto. Are you promised?”

Izuku blinked. “I’m… sorry?”

“Promised? To each other?” When Izuku just stared, Katsuki clicked his tongue. “Are you and him planned to become mates already?”

“Oh.” It was such a startling change of topic that Izuku couldn’t quite muster up the appropriate disappointment. “No, we aren’t… promised. To each other. That’s not how it works here.”

“But you love him.”

This time, Izuku felt a spike of indignation. “I thought my father told you not to ask about courting anyone.”

Katsuki’s lip peeled back over his teeth, revealing them in a satisfied smirk. “I didn’t say anything about courting. I’m just asking if you’re already attached to another alpha.”

Well, I suppose he’s not wrong. Still, Izuku crossed his arms. “I’m not attached to anyone. Romantically, I mean. I’m dedicated to the pack.”

“Is that so?” Katsuki’s smirk faded a little, that curious glint sharpening.

Izuku shifted, feeling his cheeks redden. “N-not that I… won’t become romantically involved with someone. Or, I mean, it’s not against tradition for the aeon omega to take a partner. It’s actually part of their duties to take a partner. Someone who can lead the pack, I mean. It’s meant to strength the pack. My being… romantically involved, I mean.” Izuku finally closed his mouth, realizing he’d been rambling.

Still, Katsuki’s smirk remained. He said nothing. Izuku got the impression he was enjoying watching the omega struggle.

“A-anyway. Are you promised to anyone?” He asked, hoping to put the alpha just as off guard as he was.

Katsuki very deliberately ran his tongue over his canines. Izuku made a point not to watch. “Why you asking?”

Well, that didn’t work the way I wanted it to.

Izuku crossed his arms tightly. “I was hoping it would fluster you.”

“Oh,” Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, half-lidded, his teeth still bared in delight. “You’re going to have to do better than that, shula.”

His tongue slid over the name as no one else dared. Izuku felt a sudden shiver up his spine, the caress of the name like fingers trailing along his skin. He suddenly wished he hadn’t told the alpha he didn’t have to call him shula, then caught himself and was thankful he had. He didn’t need his father hearing the alpha talking like that.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

Katsuki tilted his head slightly. A tick of his, more curious than anything else. “It would be strange for a rogue to be promised to anyone. Kind of implies that you have connections rogues don’t usually have.”

Oh. Right.

“Were you close to anyone in your pack?”

Something dark closed over Katsuki’s face. A cloud over the sun, hiding everything in shadow. His smirk was gone, the playful spark to his eyes dulled. Beneath the shadows, Izuku could see an echo of pain he desperately tried to smother, but it was there. Plain as could be.

“I should get back to helping Soren get everything ready.”

Izuku glanced toward the beta, but didn’t even see him before he turned back. “It was nice of you to help him. Thank you.”

“I wasn’t going to just sit there and watch him clean.” Katsuki grumbled, almost under his breath. He turned away. “Unless you need anything else, I’ll be going.”

Izuku’s heart sunk. “N-no… no, please.” He stepped aside, allowing the alpha to pass him by. In his wake, Izuku could still feel the echo of pain and loss. He wondered how long Katsuki had been wandering, how long it had been since he’d had a pack. But obviously, he wasn’t ready to answer those questions. Best just to give him time to settle, to recover, in any way he could.

Once Katsuki had walked away, Izuku deflated slightly. He’d been distracted by the alpha’s presence, had forgotten what had happened the previous night. Someone had died by his hand.

Izuku clenched his fists tightly, and ducked back out into the sunlight.

- - -

Katsuki watched as Izuku hurried out of the building, keeping his head down as he did. While he was glad Toshinori had told Izuku what had happened, seeing the omega in pain had been unpleasant. Was still unpleasant. Katsuki licked his lips, wishing he’d stayed longer, kept the omega’s mind off Skull-Face.

He’d been surprised that Izuku had been so willing to let Katsuki tease him, had even seemed to enjoy some of it. Katsuki had thought it would at the very least distract Izuku, even if it upset him, but he’d been pleased to find the omega recipient to what he said. The way Izuku had tensed at the way he said shula… he’d never forget that. And he’d have to see if he could replicate it.

The fact he and Shoto weren’t promised was interesting and unexpected, then again, clearly Katsuki didn’t understand how the courting rituals of this pack went. And with Toshinori’s strict command not to talk to any omegas about it, if he wanted to know more, he’d have to be a little more creative about learning more. And if he did, he’d also have to hope that Toshinori didn’t find out, or if he did that he wouldn’t immediately banish him. Toshinori didn’t seem the type to do something like that, but Katsuki didn’t know if he wanted to risk it.

Still, he was curious. He’d have to think about it more.

It was better thinking about that than thinking about the last question Izuku had asked him. Were you close to anyone?

Katsuki closed his eyes, willing himself to forget that question and all the memories that came with it. When he opened them again, Soren was standing before him, smiling.

“I see the fire’s going. Thanks for your help!”

Katsuki studied the beta silently. He’d woken Katsuki earlier, leaving Katsuki a bit startled that he’d slept so well, that he hadn’t noticed someone approaching him until they’d called his name.

“Don’t mention it.” He glanced over Soren again, then nodded to his stiff leg. “Hunting accident?”

Soren blinked up at him, then down at his leg. “Oh! No, no, no. I was born this way. Never been very far from the village, much less hunting.” He laughed about it, but Katsuki sensed a bit of frustration in him.

He understood. If Soren had never gone very far from the village, he imagined it was quite easy to grow weary of the same sights over and over again. The village wasn’t that big, after all, and it felt even less so with the trees pressing in around them.

To Soren, he said. “Never heard of someone being born with an injury.”

“It’s fine. I don’t know any different.” Soren gestured with the sweep he held. “Alpha Toshinori should be by soon. We should finish up as much as we can. Do you mind helping me sweep?”

Katsuki took the dismissal with a nod, focusing on the task Soren had given him. He found another sweep near the stacked mats and followed Soren’s lead.

They were not finished by the time Toshinori stepped through the door, though he didn’t seem to notice that the floors were still dirty. Instead, he blinked at Katsuki. “You’re helping.”

Katsuki paused, his sweep brushed forward. “Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not,” Toshinori waved his hands as if smoothing over something, “I’m just surprised. Pleasantly!” He added when Katsuki lifted an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t going to just sleep while someone else cleaned up around me,” Katsuki said. He thought it was funny that both Izuku and Toshinori had had the same reaction to his helping. He brushed his sweep back. “Unless you needed something, I’ve got things to do.”

Toshinori gestured again, stepping carefully around where Katsuki worked. He greeted Soren in a low voice and seemed to ask him something, but the beta just laughed off his question. Katsuki suspected they were talking about him, but he tried not to pay too close attention, keeping to his work.

Soon enough, the room was swept and the fires warmed. Their last order of business was to spread some mats out across the floor, leaving others to be collected by those who wished to use them. By then, others started trickling into the space, bringing food and greetings in the same low voice their pack alpha had used. Almost everyone went to Soren, telling him thanks for keeping the space for the pack. Always, the beta smiled and gestured to Katsuki, leading widened eyes after him. No one came to thank him, but they did look at him with a little less distrust than the night before.

Eijiro appeared just as Katsuki finished his chores and immediately ran up to him. “Morning!” He was much too enthusiastic for the early hour. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” Katsuki said, though he didn’t bother to elaborate. He still was still thinking about the hurt not quite buried deep enough in Izuku’s expression, or how Katsuki had allowed himself to sleep so well while surrounded by people who didn’t trust him.

“Come sit with me!” The beta said it like a request, but he grabbed Katsuki by the arm and dragged him over to the middle of the room again, ignoring when Katsuki growled at him.

They sat just about where they’d been the night before, and they hadn’t been sitting long before the others started to trail back toward their chosen spot. Katsuki struggled to try to remember their names, but begrudgingly had to fall back to the nicknames instead.

The fact he hadn’t known Skull-Face’s name before he died tapped at the back of his head whenever he looked at Eijiro’s friends. He’d told himself that he hadn’t asked for Skull-Face’s and Solid’s names because he hadn’t expected them to make it to the pack with him. But if they had, he doubted he would have cared enough to ask anyway. He was starting to realize he’d been desperate enough to want to join Alpha’s pack, but he’d never really intended on being one of them.

It was different here. Katsuki looked around the slowly filling room, to each and every pack member surrounding them. Eijiro probably knew all of them by more than just their name. It was daunting thinking about learning about all of them, but he wanted to know them. He wanted to know who that weird guy sitting at the edge of the room was, and the child who was sitting in her mother’s lap, and the woman scolding the person beside her for some mischief.

He wanted to be a part of them. Not just among them, but one of them.

“You all right, Katsuki?”

Katsuki blinked back to those in front of him. Eijiro seemed concerned, but kept his smile in place, searching him for something. Whatever it was, Katsuki grunted and waved his question away.

If he wanted to be part of the pack, this was the best place to start. With those who had allowed him a place among them.

“Hey,” he said, earning the attention of the entire group, “what are your names again?”

Chapter Text

Shoto found him in a watchtower, high above the village, away from all others yet still looking out for them. Searching for any danger ahead. Keeping himself from the danger that might be waiting in ambush.

Izuku sat with his legs crossed, one foot planted and an arm wrapped around his knee, pulling himself into a small shape, his limbs tucked close. Although he heard the footsteps approaching, knew they were someone looking for him, he kept his gaze outward, as if only he could see the shadows creeping closer. Before, they had only suspected a rogue was in their territory. Then it turned out there were three. Now, they knew a pack was hunting them. What unpleasant surprises would come when the truth of this pack revealed itself?

As much as Izuku wanted to ignore Shoto, he knew he couldn’t. Shoto wouldn’t interrupt him. The alpha knew those moments when Izuku slipped quietly away, when he buried himself in the trees or between rocks, seeking a small space where no one would find him. A small respite from the eyes that followed him, from the weight of the pack at his heels, knowing he could never stumble. So he would stand there until Izuku was ready, and Izuku had already imposed on him enough.

With a sigh, he uncurled himself, casting one last glance over the forest, before leaning over the platform he sat on. It was situated high in the trees, the branches pruned away just enough for the watcher within to see into the forests around their village. A small ladder sat against the tree, easy to climb and easier to lift away if someone undesirable were to approach.

“Come up,” Izuku called. “We can talk up here.”

Shoto climbed as Izuku resettled to his watch, gazing out into the forest rather than watch Shoto. When the alpha sat next to him, crouching down as if readying to spring back up, he felt the familiar relief of his presence. They were both back to where they were supposed to be. Izuku watching, Shoto ready to act.

“Did you sleep well?” Izuku asked.

Shoto seemed to weigh something. “Fine. It was strange at first. I can’t remember ever sleeping in a nest.”

“Never?” Even surprised as he was, Izuku didn’t let himself turn away from his watch.

“Never. My mother died and father disassembled her nest. And I never slept in Fuyumi’s nest.”

The thought alone was haunting. Even after an omega’s death, their nest was usually preserved if any young pups were present, and sometimes just for the benefit of their grieving spouse. To hear Enji had torn his mate’s nest apart… there was something tragic in the thought.

“Well. All nests are different. Could just be mine was strange for you.”

To that, Shoto said nothing. He leaned forward until his knees touched the ground, until he could settle back onto his heels. “How are you doing?”

Izuku let out a dry laugh. It was all he needed to say.

“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” Shoto said, a slight growl to his voice, “but you shouldn’t have been put in that position anyway. None of it was fair to you.”

“Maybe not, but fairness doesn’t really matter, now does it?” Izuku allowed himself a glance at Shoto. His face was hard but impassive. A wall no one could break through. “If everything was fair, there wouldn’t be rogues to begin with. People would just be where they were meant to be. Where they belong.” He pressed his lips together, surprised he’d reached for the words Katsuki had used earlier that day. Then, he said, “If everything was fair, you would remember sleeping in your mother’s nest.”

Shoto’s expression only stiffened. “Still. That doesn’t make it all right.”

“No. I suppose it doesn’t.” Izuku paused, smiled as he remembered the rest of what Katsuki had said. “Someone asked me if we were intending to be mates soon.”

“Your mother again?” Shoto didn’t sound too surprised. Nor did his expression shift.

“Someone else.” Izuku dared not mention who. “Got me wondering. Any omegas in the village you’re hoping will announce their courting season? I’ve never seen you participate before.”

Shoto stared forward, only a small narrowing of his eyes to show he was thinking. “I’ve never thought about it. It’s not something I’ve ever really considered.”

“Betas, then? Alphas?” Izuku studied Shoto’s face. “I wouldn’t judge your decision.”

Something like a smile pulled at Shoto’s lips. “I know. But I’ve never thought about it for anyone.”

Izuku lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Why not? You’re the son of one of the pillars of the pack. I know there are plenty who would love to accept you as a mate.”

Shoto frowned. Somehow, it softened his face, the hard lines of the frown like cracks in his walls. “You know what my father did to my mother. I’m his blood, whether I want to admit it or not. It could be dangerous for me to take a mate.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Izuku searched the forest for something better to say, but he’d said so many words and affirmations and excuses before.

Shoto had grown up in the shadow of his father, of what his father was to the pack and what his father had done. Izuku had watched his siblings buck against their father in their own way: Touya stayed close enough to spit venom at their father, Natsuo had taken the first chance to run, even though it meant leaving the village, Fuyumi worked tirelessly to coax some semblance of change from their father. And Shoto? Shoto had seethed, close to burning but with a stubborn splinter of ice at his core, much too bitter to ever melt away.

It was that stubborn shard that held the line of tension in Shoto’s jaw as he scoured the forest, as he sat there and thought himself too dangerous to find someone to love and care for. Without much thinking about it, Izuku leaned against him, and he leaned back. Theirs was a quiet sort of comfort, a silent, I’m here, with a whispered, I know, me too, in reply.

“I’m thinking of announcing my courting season.”

It was the first time Izuku had said it out loud. Even he could hear the bitterness in his voice.

Shoto didn’t reply. Izuku couldn’t tell if he didn’t know what to say or simply had nothing in response to add. In theory, this wouldn’t be much of a surprise to Shoto. Izuku was the aeon omega. Eventually, he would have to take a mate. If he refused, it would cripple the pack, and Shoto knew more than anyone that Izuku would sacrifice anything for his pack. Even himself.

“We might need allies. Closer allies than what we have already. With the rogue pack hunting us.” Izuku tried to sound diplomatic, that this was just the thing people did. But there was still a tremble to his voice. “It’s time, anyway. I’ve dragged my feet long enough.”

Still, Shoto said nothing. Izuku chanced a look at him, but the alpha’s face was smooth, almost blank. Purposefully so, or just as a defensive reaction. He looked away.

“If… if I decide… well I mean, if nobody works well for me… would you, perhaps, consider allowing me to choose you? Unless, of course, there’s someone else…,” the words trailed off before he could gather his thoughts coherently.

Finally, Shoto shifted, and sighed heavily. He closed his eyes with something like resignation, something like exhaustion, and Izuku bowed his head away.

“I understand. It’s okay. We don’t have to—”

“Izuku, I’d do anything for you. Anything.” Even though it was meant to be comforting, there was still that bitter edge to Shoto’s words. That splinter, carving its way to the surface. “You deserve better, though. More than I could offer. And I don’t…,” he paused, searching the forest. Izuku thought it was funny, both of them searching for something in the trees when they both knew perfectly well it was sitting right between them. “I don’t know if I could give you what you would want from a mate.”

Izuku didn’t quite know what he meant. But he did understand the hesitation. The uncertainty. Even thinking of announcing his courting season made his throat tighten and his heart hammer, silencing the words before he could say them aloud.

He smiled, thankful he’d had so much time practicing. “How about we cross that bridge when we reach it. Who knows? You’ll be participating in the courting, I assume. Maybe we’ll find out we’re a lot more compatible than we thought. Maybe what you offer is exactly what I want.”

Shoto didn’t match his smile. He stared in silence out into the forest. Izuku followed his gaze, but he saw nothing. No shadows moving. No light filtering through the trees. Just the murky gray of a dreary morning.

He pressed a little closer to Shoto, relieved when the alpha made room for him, when their silence was still comfortable, despite everything.

- - -

Toshinori called Katsuki forward at the end of their morning meal. He nodded to a small omega woman standing before a group of three other women, two omegas and a beta.

“We will speak in council soon. Kaya and her daughters have agreed to properly outfit you and show you where to clean yourself. Take this time to prepare for our meetings. I suspect they will go into the night.”

Katsuki tilted his head forward in recognition of the alpha’s words, then turned to Kaya. She was an older woman, wrinkled in pleasant ways, eyes wide and sparkling. In a way, she reminded Katsuki of the omega who had led his pack. He banished the thought before it could overwhelm him.

Kaya inclined her head to him, not quite a bow but close enough. “Greetings young Katsuki. Welcome to our village.”

He paused as the three others echoed Kaya’s bow. “Thanks.” He wasn’t sure if there was a custom in saying anything else, so he decided to keep quiet for now.

If this offended Kaya, she didn’t show it. “We’ll bathe first. Come.”

As Kaya and her daughters led Katsuki out of the pack hall, eyes followed them, but Katsuki kept his head up and Kaya didn’t pay them any mind. Her smile never slipped, and her daughters whispered playfully between each other. Katsuki strained his ears to listen, but heard nothing malicious in their tone or words. From what he could tell, they were gossiping about a potential lover. Nothing of interest to him.

To Kaya, he said, “In my pack, it was unusual for youth to attend council meetings. Too much heat for sensible talk.” He found the words his mother used to say to him less bitter than usual. He’d spit them at her before, when she’d proven herself to be more heated than even him, but now it was painful to remember how she’d laughed when he’d confronted her about it.

Kaya laughed as well, though hers was gentler, barely over a whisper. “I doubt you would be the most heated in the room; Enji usually ends up being the hothead in any situation. But it would be impressive if you challenged him for that title.”

Katsuki couldn’t decide if she was teasing him or not. “Are you part of this council?”

This time, Kaya’s daughters giggled in response, Katsuki resisting the urge to glower at them. Kaya lifted a hand to silence them for him. “I am not. Nor would I wish to be. But I do uphold certain rites within the pack. Cleansing rites, mostly.”

“You’re saying I’m dirty, then?” Katsuki couldn’t help but growl when he spoke, but the old woman shook her head.

“We do not cleanse because we are dirty, young one. We cleanse because we need to unburden ourselves. Sometimes of dust and dirt, but usually of stuck emotions.” She smiled at him, softer, not quite gentle. Perhaps more understanding than anything else. “I do not expect your emotions to become unstuck with one cleanse. But I do hope we can help lighten the weight on your back, just a little. I believe Alpha Toshinori would like that for you as well.”

Katsuki’s neck prickled at her words. Although he had made sure to keep his head held high, he was aware how difficult of a task it was, to keep himself upright, to move forward as if he were unbothered. The old omega could see that in him, the struggle, the fight.

How strange this pack was. Katsuki had never known a pack like this one. Yes, his pack had taken care of one another, but in ways much different than these. There was no cleansing. There was only space and time given, the thought that with some time to meditate and parse through one’s thoughts, one could eventually free themselves of whatever was caught around their souls.

But for as strange as it sounded, Katsuki had to admit, he was curious to see how this cleanse would help. And he felt a surge of warmth for this woman and her daughters for wanting to help him, even if it was on behalf of their pack alpha. Orders or not, they seemed genuine. They wanted to help. They would help. In any way they could.

There weren’t words for what Katsuki felt in that moment. Not words he knew, anyway. He nodded to Kaya, letting her take from that what she would, and felt another spark of warmth when she smiled.

“I will warn you that I don’t intend to simply let you wile away this time though. While we help you cleanse yourself, I will also be here to teach you the basics of council meetings, proper etiquette and such, so be sure to pay attention and ask questions. I will answer any and all I can.”

To this, Katsuki ducked his head, hoping she understood all that was meant by his gesture. “Thank you, elder.”

Kaya made a guffawing noise that startled Katsuki, thinking he’d offended her, but her daughters simply laughed and Kaya said, “I’m not that old yet! You’re just too young to understand it!”

“You are that old, mother,” one of her daughters giggled, while another whispered to Katsuki, “Don’t worry. One day she’ll realize she isn’t a spritely girl anymore.”

“I heard that,” Kaya droned, and the girls giggled.

Katsuki didn’t laugh with them, but he felt a moment of peace walking with them, immersed in the moment, this single touch of kindness he could never have expected.

- - -

Eventually, Shoto convinced Izuku to go rest as much as he could before the council was called. He took Izuku’s post at the watchtower, settling in for the day while practically shoving Izuku out of the tree.

“You know how they get. We’ll be sitting in there for a while.” There was an edge of dread to Shoto’s voice. He would be expected to attend, as would Izuku, and they both knew just how intense council meetings could get. And that wasn’t counting the fact that the village had never been under threat as it was now. The looming rogue pack would only excite everyone, make things so much more difficult.

Izuku’s head throbbed just at the thought. As aeon, he’d have to work very hard to keep things peaceful, to move the conversation forward. This wasn’t going to be a meeting he could simply tune out, letting his presence soothe the participants. He’d be an active part of the meeting, even if he wasn’t necessarily part of the conversation, and that was so much worse.

So he agreed to rest while he could, hoping if nothing else that he could light some incense and enjoy a peaceful moment to himself.

The village was quiet as he walked through it. For how many people were staying within its boundaries, Izuku was surprised at how few people he saw. He marked them all in his memory, noting those he didn’t see, and frowned at what he noticed. There were hardly any omegas wandering around. Mostly just alphas, a few betas. And anyone walking around the village looked ready for a fight. Their alpha’s words had rallied them, but had also warned them just how much danger they were facing. Everyone would fight if need be, but not everyone was a fighter. Izuku saw the strained worry, the anticipation, in even the smiles that people flashed him, in the thin voices that called to him, “Shula.”

The stress of the village did nothing to alleviate his headache, but Izuku smiled and waved to those he passed, hoping it would help them breathe a little easier if nothing else. Still, it was a relief when he reached his dwelling. He allowed himself a small sigh, just to release a bit of the tension in his face, eager to be hidden within, to be safe and warm and alone.

He untied the leather flap and slipped inside, letting it fall behind him, letting darkness cover him. Sound and light from the village muffled against the walls of his dwelling, present but distant, just enough that Izuku could take a deep breath.

He moved around the dark easily, knowing exactly where everything was, fishing a fresh bundle of incense from a pouch under the table. As he picked through the sticks, he suddenly became aware of eyes on him.

It was a familiar feeling, one he had grown so used to, so sensitive to, that he sat up a little straighter without thinking, a reaction to so many people always watching him. But nobody should have been watching him. No one would have hidden in his dwelling and not spoken when he’d entered. There were very few who would dare even to enter his dwelling without permission. His mother, his father. Maybe Torino. But all of them would have said something, would have at least lit a candle so not to be in darkness.

No, the eyes watching him were not someone he would expect. Someone who would mean no harm.

A terrible dread pressed at his back, and he dug through the pouch again, his fingers finding the small carving knife he kept to cut the incense.

He took a breath, and spun, slashing outward. The knife hissed through darkness and something beyond him moved sharply, something that glinted. Another blade. Izuku snarled and stepped backwards – right over his table.

He tripped, sprawled, and someone caught him by the arm, yanking him up. He opened his mouth to call for help, only for a hand to press over his lips and for a blade to appear next to his ear.

“Hush,” a voice, one he’d never heard before, whispered along the blade’s edge, “don’t be hasty now. I’ve not come to hurt you. In fact, I’ve come to return something that belongs to you.”

The blade at his ear shifted slightly, catching the single beam of light slicing through the dwelling’s entrance, and Izuku startled. It was his sword. Long, thin, shining as if newly polished. There wasn’t a trace of the blood on its blade, not a mark to show it had been used to end a life.

“There now. I thought you might be missing it.” The hand lifted from Izuku’s mouth but he didn’t speak, squinting through the dark to see who stood before him.

A beta male, from the smell, a bit larger than most betas but not by much. In the dark, all Izuku could really see the glint of a narrowed pair of eyes and a smattering of teeth, revealed in a smile.

The beta stepped away, offering the hilt of the sword to Izuku, who snatched it back. It fell into his hand, warm and worn in familiar ways, but also colder than before. It might not look as if it had tasted blood, but it certainly felt like it.

“Who are you?” Izuku snarled.

“Ah-ah,” the beta raised a hand to his lips, asking for quiet, “we don’t want to alert any unwanted attention. As I said, I’ve no want to hurt you, but I don’t really care what happens to the rest of your pack. If someone comes knocking, I’ll slit their throat.”

Izuku swallowed, searching for the glint of a knife, but he saw nothing. That didn’t mean the beta didn’t have one hidden away though, and Izuku couldn’t risk someone getting hurt because he’d been careless.

Not again.

In a lower voice, he growled, “Who are you?”

The beta’s smile widened, teeth like glittering jewels. He bowed low. “Pleasure to meet you, aeon,” he said the title as if it were a little joke between them, sending unwelcome shivers up Izuku’s spine, spiders crawling on his skin, “you may call me Jest.”

The name was viscerally familiar. In his recounting of events, Katsuki had said the beta’s name with distrust, contempt even, and perhaps a hint of fear. Jest, he’d hissed, never quite able to speak the name without curling his lip. Alpha’s right hand man. The scout who had followed the rogues on their journey, encouraged them to find and kidnap an omega. A dangerous man, Katsuki had warned.

And here he was.

Jest laughed low as Izuku’s head spun. “I can see I’m infamous. Did that rogue speak of me? I’m sure he had much to say.” He waved a hand. “No matter. It’s better this way. You know of me. And now, you get to know the real me.”

“Get out,” Izuku snarled, “tell your alpha to leave this territory, or be destroyed.”

Jest bowed his head. “Very well, I’ll do that. But I wouldn’t hold my breath that he will listen. He’s stubborn as is, and he wants something.”

Izuku shivered again. He was all too aware of what Alpha had been seeking when he’d sent the rogues. His wrists burned with the memory of being wrapped in leather bindings, and his throat swelled. But he held his ground, bared his teeth.

“You will not have one of my pack,” he snarled, then, quieter, “you will not have me.”

He expected Jest to attack. To try to trick him. To threaten him again, perhaps. He prepared, gripping his sword tight, suddenly thankful he knew it was strong enough to kill.

Then, Jest laughed.

It was a deep laugh, one of genuine mirth. Izuku paused, unsure how to respond, his grip too tight on the sword.

“Forgive me! The irony of everything is just too much.” Jest shook his head, as if ridding himself of the last few chuckles, and sighed as he turned to Izuku. “Be at ease. Alpha has rescinded his order to collect an omega from your pack. He has… other priorities at the moment. Speaking of.” Jest tilted his head toward the beam of light. Toward the rest of the village, and the pack beyond. “As I said, Alpha does want something. Someone, even. But lucky for you, they aren’t part of your pack.”

The prickling sensation returned, a terrible dread that flowed over his skin and sunk deep into his body. Izuku knew who Jest was speaking of before the beta curled his lips. “The rogue. The traitor. Alpha wants him back. To deal with properly. And you can certainly understand, can’t you? Someone like that can’t be trusted, not when he’s already betrayed not one but two packs.”

Izuku paused, fighting the sick feeling within him. “What do you mean?”

Jest shrugged, a movement much too easy for the situation. His nonchalance only made Izuku tense further. “He was a rogue before he came to us. That means he either left his pack or was banished from it. Then he comes crawling to Alpha, begging for a place among us, and when he has the opportunity, he turns around and betrays us as well.” Jest’s smile was pointed in all the wrong ways. “Not a very promising start. But not to worry. Alpha knows exactly how to deal with rabid dogs.”

Even as Jest spoke, Izuku bared his teeth. “No,” he snarled, “you can’t have him.”

“Why not?” Jest’s voice was still airy. Still so unconcerned. Izuku noticed his hand was shaking, but he wasn’t sure why, but he thought it might have something to do with the way the beta grinned at him. “He’ll betray you as well, you know. And how much damage can someone like him do? Do you really want to risk what he might do to your pack? To you?” He paused as Izuku growled. “I know he’s taken an interest in you. Can you honestly say that his intentions are so pure?”

Izuku opened his mouth, but no words formed. Shoto’s warning was ringing in his ear, and Touya’s words as well.

Not everyone just lets omegas choose their mates. Sometimes, the alphas just take who they want.

He just thinks you’re a pretty face and you might be an interesting lay.

There was no way Jest could know what Izuku was thinking, but by the way his lips curled, Izuku swore he knew exactly what was on his mind. “Here. I know it’s a lot to take in. You’ve had a stressful week. And I know your leaders will gather to discuss their options soon. So. Why don’t you consider your options?” Jest held up one hand. “Alpha wants the rogue. I can tell him what you said, but it won’t change his mind. He will have the rogue. No matter what you do. Or,” he held up his other hand, “you can hand him over to us. You don’t even have to get your hands dirty. Just tell him to go fetch you a nice courting gift and we’ll sneak him off when nobody is looking. He won’t be your problem ever again.”

The beta made it sound so simple, so easy. As if it wouldn’t still be another death on Izuku’s hands.

He resolved not to give anything away this time, closing his mouth and staring Jest down as the beta studied him. When Izuku said nothing, he shrugged. “Think on it. You’ll have up until the very moment Alpha decides to stride into your village.”

Izuku grit his teeth, opened his mouth to tell Jest to leave, when the beta flicked his wrist and the breath stole from Izuku’s lungs. He collapsed forward, gasping for air, a terrible sense of familiarity rising up within him. His hand brushed against his throat, but there was nothing there, nothing keeping him from breathing. And when he focused on it, he was breathing. He was breathing fine.

When he looked up, Jest was gone. As if he’d never been there.

Chapter Text

At first, Katsuki thought this “cleansing” Kaya and her daughters had guided him toward was simply a bath in a small spring. The pool was pressed in a small crevasse down several feet, low enough that Katsuki had to carefully maneuver himself into the water so not to hurt himself. A child wouldn’t have been able to get back out and as it were, he thought he might need help as well, until he spotted a folded rope ladder hooked to a pulley at the edge of the rock.

He glowered at Kaya pointedly, but the old woman simply smiled. “It’s part of the ritual. The giving of yourself to the water, to be cleansed. The purposeful first step forward. If you don’t decide to step forward, then you will always be stuck in place.”

A load of nonsense, but Katsuki dared not say that out loud and insult her. Instead, he allowed himself to sink into the water. The women had told him to descend into the water fully dressed, again all part of the cleansing process. He had to admit, his clothes were more than a little rough from his long time traveling as a rogue and he knew they could use more than just a dip in a spring. He soon found himself standing in a ring of dirt lifting from his skin and clothes.

Seeing the filth of his past rising up around him, dirtying the once-pristine waters of the small pool, he felt a twinge of regret. Maybe he was doing more harm than good.

He went to pull himself back out, but Kaya waved her hand and pressed her palm against his forehead.

“You are forgiven,” she said, her tone lilting and light. Spoken as if she’d said them a thousand times over. “You are welcome. You are safe. You are whole.” She paused, and lifted her palm. “Lay back. Let us do the rest.”

Movement above him caught Katsuki’s attention. He watched as Kaya’s daughters moved to a lever he hadn’t noticed before. They struggled a bit with it, groaning happily to each other over the fact they’d let themselves get so weak. Then, the lever snapped forward with the sound of wood shifting and water rushing. A gush of water spat over the rocks overhead and crashed onto Katsuki before he could get out of the way. The shock of getting wet was cast away as the water slid over his head, into his hair, along his back and chest. It was so warm. The water that spread over him was foamy, white, but also carried with it the debris from his life. The dirt and dust from his hair and face. He watched it all gathering around him, and slowly be carried away by a new current.

The water rose around him, until he was standing up to his shoulders. Then, the water spread out along the rocks laid out around them, slipping between the small cracks, taking the dirt with it. Katsuki blinked, realizing it was a natural filtering system, too deliberate to be completely natural but certainly based on how the rivers filtered themselves. There had been a delta not far from where Katsuki’s village had been that was like this, only measures larger, haphazard in a way only nature could construct.

He felt a prickle at the sight of it, and was silently grateful for the water rushing down his face.

Distracted as he’d been, he hadn’t noticed that Kaya was still whispering, words of encouragement and warmth. They meant little on their own, especially from someone Katsuki had never met, but something about the way she said them, the way the water ran over him, the way the current carried the dust away, it all clouded his eyes.

He closed them and let himself lean back into the stream, hoping no one would notice the rush of relief that cast off him and filtered through the rocks and back into the earth.

- - -

Once he’d been allowed to soak, Kaya ordered the water to be stoppered. “As much as I’d like to let you rest all day, you are expected very soon.” She gestured to her daughters. “Go on, girls. Thank you for your help.”

They giggled, lingering a moment longer. Something in the way they looked down at Katsuki made him conscious of every movement he made, of how the water lapped around him. Without the constant stream from above him, the water was already dropping down his chest.

“Girls!” Kaya snapped and they finally darted away, laughing as they did.

Once they were gone, Kaya sighed. “Troublemakers. The lot of them.” She smiled proudly, then turned her back to Katsuki. “Take your clothes off. We’ll decide what to do with them later. Alpha Toshinori has gifted you proper attire for attending the council. I’ll lay them out. You relax for just a few more moments. Wash off anything else you need to rid yourself of.”

She took several deliberate steps away, until Katsuki couldn’t see her over the ridge of rocks surrounding the deep pool, which was growing shallower by the second. After a heartbeat, he heard the distinct shuffling of clothing, as if Kaya was assuring him that she was still there, that he wasn’t alone. She was giving him a private moment, but wasn’t leaving him alone.

He was starting to realize how deliberate everyone was in the village. There were hardly any movements that were unnecessary. Everything served a purpose, either to the person or to those around them. Izuku’s particularly controlled way of moving about the village started making a lot more sense. If even just the normal pack members acted like this, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for those leading the pack.

Still, he appreciated that Kaya was putting so much effort into looking out for him, even though he had not asked her to. She genuinely seemed to want to care for him, and that was more than anyone had done for him in a long time.

It was going to be interesting, to say the least, how this all translated to the upcoming council meeting.

But he still had a few moments, so he took them, sinking down into the receding water as much as he could. He started shucking off his clothes, though that proved somewhat difficult with how wet they were. His trousers came off after a struggle, then his coat and shirt. As soon as his shirt peeled off his skin, the beaded necklaces hidden underneath floated to the surface, like memories kept pressed from conscious thought. Katsuki tangled the leather strands in his fingers, four of them in all. He tightened his grip, lifted them, and his hand froze.

He hadn’t taken off these necklaces since… well, since before.

When he looked closely, he saw that some of the beads were singed from the fire, the same fire that had burned him. The burned beads had once been ruby red, the same color as his eyes. The same as his mother’s. Now, they were flecked with ash.

He released the leather strings and let the necklaces float around him. When he stood, they fell back against his chest, settling into familiar places. Drifting away from the forefront of his thoughts.

Kaya must have heard him stand. “Are you ready?” She called.

Katsuki answered by pulling on the rope ladder, watching it extend up to where it was anchored at the top of the rocks, and climbing up. Kaya had her back turned to him as he emerged, her hands smoothing down the clothes Toshinori must have gifted him.

As much as he knew the alpha meant well in the gift, Katsuki immediately disliked the clothes.

Kaya had laid them out on a mat to keep them from getting wet on the rocks, so they laid like a poorly skinned animal rotting in the dappled sunlight. The entire outfit consisted of simple trousers and tunic with a cloth belt and a beautiful robe. The cloth was woven, patterned delicately and deliberately, just as everything else was. There was an impressive amount of craftsmanship in the work. Someone had taken quite a lot of time to make these for him. The robe in particular was long and intricate, with a subtle pattern that Katsuki didn’t recognize but he thought must mean something. The cloth was dyed blue, the same color Toshinori wore. A signature of his, though Katsuki was unsure how he felt wearing the pack alpha’s color.

As beautiful as it was, everything was entirely too soft and long and loose. If he had to fight, it would only get in his way and he knew from a glance that it would also go up in flames if he used his blessing. He could assume that whoever had made them simply hadn’t been told about his blessing – that wearing these clothes would only hamper his abilities and make it more difficult to fight if need be – but he couldn’t help but wonder if the choice had been deliberate. If this was Toshinori’s subtle way of keeping him under control.

Looking down at the clothes pulled at the memory of his village, of the simpler tunics and leggings usually worn by his pack, a large, heavy cloak draped over their shoulders, easily snapped off and tossed aside if need be. He touched his necklaces again, and said nothing of what he was thinking.

With her back turned to him, Kaya saw none of the conflict in his face. She finished smoothing everything out and leaned back, examining the robes.

“Will you need help getting dressed?” She asked.

“No,” Katsuki said, though when he thought about it, he wasn’t altogether sure how he was supposed to tie the cloth belt. Well, he was sure someone would glare at him if he did it wrong and he’d go from there.

“Very well.” Kaya stood and stepped around the clothing, kneeling again with her back still turned once she was far enough away.

Katsuki dried himself off using the blanket Kaya had left him, as well as summoning up some heat from his blessing, watching for signs of unease from Kaya as his palms sparked loudly. She never reacted as far as he could tell, but just as she couldn’t see his face, he couldn’t see hers.

Once he was dry, he dressed himself. The trousers and tunic were easy enough, with Katsuki fumbling a bit to tie the cloth belt over the tunic. He slipped the robe over his shoulders and let it hang, loose and billowing. The wind caught it and it snagged on the rocks. Katsuki snarled wordlessly as he tried to wrestle it under control, pausing when Kaya turned around.

She smiled fondly at him and stepped forward. “May I?”

Katsuki eyed her warily, but let her come even closer. She untied the belt and slipped it free, tucking it into her sleeve before tugging at the robes. With only a few deft pulls, she fitted the robes tight to his frame, still a little too long for Katsuki’s taste, but more out of the way. He was perhaps still at risk of catching the sleeves on fire, since they hung so low, but he didn’t think about that. Kaya then used the belt to tie the robe in place, keeping it from loosening.

She stepped back and appraised him. “There. You look better.”

Katsuki believed her, though even with the robe properly tied he still felt uncomfortable. The blue of the robe stuck out starkly against his skin. Out of place. He just couldn’t tell if he was the one out of place or the robe.

Still, he bowed his head to Kaya, hoping that was the correct gesture. She smiled and waved for him to follow her. “Come, come. The others will be gathering soon.”

- - -

The council gathered soon after, as Kaya had expected, and even after everything she had warned him about, Katsuki was not prepared for what he faced.

It was a subtly hostile environment, which was quite different from anything Katsuki had faced. Nobody was stomping around or screaming at each other, but the looks given across the fire could have burned the forest to the ash in their intensity. Granted, most of those looks were thrown toward him, but he had proven to be quite fire-resistant. Enough to feel the burn of their ire, not enough to outright destroy him. He let them glare and let them fester in their fury.

Most of the animosity was coming from one particular family. Shoto’s family, of course. It was interesting to see the different flavors of hate coming from one batch of whelps. Shoto was, as always, distrustful and protective, even though Izuku hadn’t shown up yet, one misstep away from freezing Katsuki’s limbs together. Next to him sat his father, arms crossed, fury blazing plainly on his face, both in the jut of his chin and the flames licking along his jaw and brow. His brand of hatred was to try to intimidate Katsuki into submission, making it clear he was the largest of the alphas in the room, that he could and would shove Katsuki into the dirt if he tested him. Katsuki made sure to keep his expression loose and calm, just to piss him off more.

Kaya had warned him about Shoto’s father – Enji, he thought she’d called him – as being the protector of the pack. If he had trouble with anyone, it would be him. But, in all honesty, his open hostility wasn’t what kept Katsuki on edge.

The only one who concerned him was the last of the family members, a white-haired alpha who leaned toward Katsuki, his chin in his palm, smiling openly. The smile did nothing to convey he was happy to see Katsuki. No, in fact, Katsuki wondered if the white-haired alpha hated him the most. There was something in him, something subtle and patient. Where Shoto and his father were challenging Katsuki, begging him to step out of line so they could put him in his place, the white-haired alpha simply watched. It occurred to Katsuki that where Shoto and his father needed an excuse to do him harm, the white-haired alpha didn’t seem concerned over excuses. If given the chance – and he would take a step into a shadowed overhang as a chance – he would take the opportunity to do harm.

Of everyone in the room, he was the most dangerous. Although Katsuki let his passivity annoy Shoto and his father, he made sure to keep a steady eye on the white-haired alpha. He couldn’t let his guard down around him. Not if he wanted to keep his skin. He tried to remember what Kaya had called the last of Shoto’s family, but it kept slipping from his grasp. He was too busy keeping an eye on the alpha to give a damn what his name could be.

There were others in the room who were not particularly happy with his presence either. The beta who had joined Toshinori when he’d first interrogated Katsuki was there, sitting up properly and probably uncomfortably as he had before. Katsuki thought his name might be Mirai. Although there was no hatred in his glare, he did send sharp warning glances to Katsuki whenever he moved, as if even his breathing was offensive. Sitting beside Shoto was another alpha about his age, one Katsuki had seen around but hadn’t been introduced to yet. He sat just as formally as Mirai and watched Katsuki cautiously, as if he hadn’t made up his mind about the rogue alpha yet. There was an empty space next to him, then another alpha who could have been his brother. While he was more relaxed than his brother, even he kept a cautious eye on Katsuki, waiting to see what he would do next. Kaya had mentioned that the pack had a family of scouts and messengers, a mother and two brothers, and he thought this must be them. Their names were Tenna, Tensei, and Tenya. Katsuki remembered thinking their names were stupid, but at least it made them easier to remember. Tenna, being the mother, must have been the one missing, and Tensei, he knew, was the older of the two brothers, Tenya the younger.

It took him several minutes of examination before he remembered that these two had been at the glade, had rescued Izuku from him and the other rogues. Suddenly their cautiousness made a lot more sense, and Katsuki dismissed them as immediate threats. They might be wary of him, but they weren’t outright hostile as Shoto and his family.

The only one who seemed wholly unconcerned with his presence was the old man that had stepped into his tent when he’d first arrived. Katsuki had gathered his name was Torino. He was currently napping, curled up in a large yellow blanket and snoring occasionally. While Shoto’s father sent him an irritated glower every now and then, nobody else took note of the elderly sleeping beta in their presence.

Toshinori sat next to Katsuki, but he hadn’t acknowledged Katsuki since arriving. Instead, he was leaned toward his mate, Inko, whispering to her. She kept biting her lip at whatever they were discussing. She had given Katsuki a smile when Kaya had delivered him to the council, but since hadn’t even looked at him.

There was an empty spot next to Inko. Izuku hadn’t yet arrived. Katsuki wondered if the heightened tension had something to do with his absence as well as Katsuki’s presence. Izuku had mentioned it was his job to keep the peace of his pack. Perhaps this was what he had meant.

Katsuki observed all of this as the council gathered. He stood out amongst the group, mostly because everyone kept staring at him from time to time, but his robes did make him feel like part of the council. As much as he wasn’t particularly fond of them, he was grateful to have them. If he’d arrived in his ragged travel clothes, or even traditional clothes from his pack, he would have been even more out of place. He wasn’t exactly sure why Toshinori had decided to give him the clothes yet, but he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.

After a time, Toshinori leaned away from Inko and glanced back to the entrance. He paused, as if he were expecting someone to come through the door at that very moment, then turned to Shoto.

“Fetch Izuku for us, Shoto. Please.” He added. There was a distinct note of unease in his voice, hidden under the otherwise formal tone.

Shoto stood immediately, but hadn’t gone two steps when the door swung open wildly and Izuku stumbled inside.

“Sorry!” He was breathless and unbalanced, fumbling for his feet.

Katsuki felt his eyes widen as he took in the sight of the omega. His clothes were askew on his shoulders, his face flushed from running, his eyes wild. If Katsuki didn’t know better, he’d have said Izuku had snuck off to have a dalliance with an alpha. But he didn’t smell like another alpha, nor did he smell like he’d been trying to cover something up.

And besides, Katsuki knew another reason why someone would look rather excited. It wasn’t uncommon for alphas to return from battle looking flushed and eager. The only difference was they were usually covered in blood, and Izuku wasn’t. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been facing a fight of his own. Katsuki scanned him quickly, then slower, picking out the fresh nick at his ear, the red mark of a nail at his mouth, a darkened pattern at his wrist.

And, at his belt, the omega wore that blade.

Katsuki traced the edge of it, imagining the thin line along his bracer, matching the two together. It was the same blade. But he also remembered throwing the sword from the omega’s grip, watching it disappear into the underbrush. And yet, the omega had it now.

He entertained the idea that it was a replacement weapon, something gifted to the pack’s aeon for protection, especially in these times, but the hilt was worn from years of use. If Katsuki had to guess, he’d say the grip would match Izuku’s fingers. It was the same weapon, not just a replication.

Which begged the question, where had it come from? It might have just been found and returned to the omega by one of his pack members, but if that were true, it was rather convenient he received his blade the same time he arrived looking like he’d just stepped off a battlefield.

Something had happened.

Katsuki chanced a glance at the others, marking their expression. Most seemed curious by Izuku’s fluster, but Shoto and his brother in particular were watching Izuku a little closer, perhaps picking up the details that Katsuki had. For once, he wasn’t the center of attention, and it gave him the opportunity to examine Shoto’s brother. He wore strange bracers wrapped around his arms and hands. Katsuki put that information away for later.

Toshinori was also looking at his son, but his expression was harder to read. He saw something in the omega, but Katsuki couldn’t pick out if the pack alpha was alarmed by his appearance. When Izuku bowed to him, he nodded back and gestured for the omega to join them. Izuku hurried to his spot, avoiding eye contact with everyone, collapsing with a huff next to his mother. Inko immediately set about fixing him up, whispering something to him about him seeming out of place. Although she kept her tone light, Katsuki could tell she’d picked up on something being wrong.

Still, Izuku avoided even looking at her, his eyes stuck to the floor.

Toshinori watched his son and mate for a moment longer, then settled forward. Somehow this was a signal to everyone else, as they leaned toward their alpha as well, forgetting the strange appearance of their aeon. Katsuki let his gaze linger a moment longer on Izuku, and was rewarded by the omega’s gaze flicking up to him.

There.

Something in his eyes.

Katsuki couldn’t read it, but when Izuku looked up at him, there was something there, some emotion he was desperately trying to keep contained. It wasn’t the same, embarrassed sort of look the omega had given him in fleeting glances before. Not the curious, half-annoyed glare. No, this was something else. Something almost… scared.

Katsuki tilted his head as subtly as he could, showing his throat to the omega, but was only rewarded with a scowl. He remembered too late that showing throats in this pack meant nothing at all, but by then Izuku had looked away and was staring resolutely into the fire.

He thought about reaching for the omega, but he would have to do so over Toshinori and in front of several people who were looking for an excuse to kill him, and one who was just waiting for the right moment, so perhaps that wasn’t the best idea.

This thought was reinforced when Toshinori lifted his arms and everyone in the room faced him expectantly. He nodded to Enji, who waved his hand and the fire died, just like that. Katsuki stared, bewildered, as the absence of the flames revealed something hidden right in plain sight.

At first he thought it was just a collection of strange rocks and stone figures, laid out in a bed of sand and charcoal. But then, Toshinori reached into the pit and dusted off several buried stones and dragging his hand through the ash and charcoal until a clearer picture formed and Katsuki realized exactly what he was looking at.

It was a map. He didn’t know the territory well enough to be able to read it, but he recognized the marks of a map, the stones in place to mark off significant locations, the pack alpha drawing out the lines of what Katsuki assumed was pack territories, the river marked with a long line of white stone stubbornly immune to the black ash surrounding them.

It was brilliant, honestly, to hide a map as it was. There were few who could control fire as deftly as Shoto’s family, and with the fire going all the time, it would be hidden from anyone who was looking for information. No doubt there was secret information hidden in the map, though, again, Katsuki didn’t know the area well enough to see what was otherwise out of place.

Once the map had been properly prepared, Toshinori sat back. “Tenna went out to make contact with Yoroi and Shota. We have hopes they will start disseminating information about the rogue pack as well, though if they aren’t as concerned as we are, then Tenna will start moving to farther packs. She did send word to expect a liaison from Yoroi, and I expect Shota will send Hitoshi after Tenna informs him of our situation.”

Enji growled. “If it’s not their problem, Shota won’t do a damn thing, and you know it. He keeps to himself and his own.”

Katsuki felt his jaw twitch. He wanted so badly to hiss, Look who’s talking, but he kept his temper in check. It was going to be a long meeting.

“He will answer our call,” Toshinori said simply, and with no farther explanation. He was glaring into the map, seeing something Katsuki could not. “The real problem is, there aren’t very many places this pack could be hiding. The mire, maybe, but it’s so dangerous.”

At this, Katsuki scoffed. He felt everyone’s attention shift to him, and also the shift in attitude from respectful to disdainful, as he spoke, “Alpha’s pack was full of warriors. It’s more like an army than a pack. Difficult or dangerous terrain wouldn’t mean much to him. Not like they’re catering to a lot of women, children, or elderly.” In fact, when he thought about it, had he seen a child in Alpha’s pack? Or someone who could be considered elderly? He’d glimpsed women, but they had all kept their distance and Katsuki hadn’t paid enough attention to notice anything particular about them. Even their number had been limited though.

“It may be worth scouting, then. Just in case,” Tensei leaned toward the map as well, pressing a hand to his chin as he thought.

“Such an expedition would be dangerous, even under normal circumstances,” Mirai countered swiftly.

“Is that worth leaving a rogue pack to wander wherever they wish?” Tensei asked.

Mirai seemed to consider this, tapping a long finger against his knee.

Before he answered, Toshinori said, “We may not have a choice. But we should wait to hear from the other packs before we instigate anything. We’ve no reason to believe they will attack anytime soon. They haven’t made a move yet.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye pulled Katsuki’s attention. He knew if he wasn’t so heightened by the environment, or if it wasn’t Izuku, he wouldn’t have noticed. But when Izuku stiffened at his father’s words, Katsuki noticed. His mother did as well, placing her hand over his and whispering something to him. He forced a smile and squeezed her hand in reply, leaning back to look relaxed. But Katsuki saw the way his free hand was clenched in a tight fist.

Again, the omega looked at him, noticed him staring. This time, Katsuki ducked his head, as he had seen others do to the aeon. Izuku’s lips pulled tight and he looked away without saying anything. Katsuki let him go, turning back to the map in front of him. As he did, he caught the wild flash of blue eyes watching him. Shoto’s brother.

Katsuki stared back at the other alpha, and the alpha back at him, each evaluating each other. The alpha had sunk into himself, almost as if he were relaxing, but there was something oddly threatening in the gesture. Katsuki couldn’t pinpoint why, but he knew a threat when he saw one, and he knew an imminent threat when it was preparing to strike. He watched as the alpha’s hand pressed into the floor, then started to lift, and something about it made his hair stand on end. Katsuki flexed his fingers, opening his palms wide, waiting for what would happen next—

“Touya.”

The alpha’s hand dropped back to the ground. “Yeah?” He turned expectantly to Mirai.

There was a gleam to the beta’s eyes that told Katsuki he had seen everything, and he knew exactly what had almost happened. He kept his attention on Touya though, not Katsuki. “You will need to name an appropriate team to gather for an expedition to the mire. A force small and powerful enough to be able to get away should trouble arise.”

Touya let out an aggrieved sigh. “Why me? Get someone else to go slogging through the mud.”

“Because you are one of our strongest, and your pack needs you.” There was an edge of warning in Mirai’s voice.

For a heartbeat, it was clear Touya was going to refuse. He had smiled sharply at Mirai and let his mouth slide open, his tongue gathered for a definitive “No,” when another voice answered first.

“Be careful, Touya.” It was Izuku speaking. Katsuki blinked at the omega, surprised that he was reprimanding the alpha so openly, and Touya did the same. Izuku had gathered himself from his staggered entrance, sitting completely in control of himself once more. There was even the edge of a soft smile on his lips, calm and easy and inviting.

This is what the aeon does, Katsuki thought absently. He’d wondered if Izuku would act like the old woman, an omega in charge, but no. This wasn’t that. This was something very different, startlingly unfamiliar.

Yet, with everything that was so very different about this pack, Katsuki recovered enough to simply watch as Izuku bowed his head to Touya.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this. But this pack is dangerous. So please. Be careful.”

Somehow it was more startling to realize Izuku hadn’t just been warning Touya about disobeying. Katsuki knew that was still part of what Izuku was saying, but there was genuine concern as well. Then again, if anyone else knew just how dangerous this pack was, it would be Izuku. He hadn’t even had to face the real members of this pack, just the stragglers they sent to do their dirty work, and he nearly hadn’t survived.

Touya paused for a heartbeat longer than before, then shut his mouth. He consented with a grunt and that was that. He didn’t even flick an annoyed glare at Katsuki, though Katsuki thought he might want to.

Again, Katsuki stared at Izuku. He was a bit magical, really. In strange ways, but not completely unwelcome. If only the way he was forced to wield his power wasn’t so uncomfortable. Katsuki still didn’t quite know what to do with the position Izuku held and what it actually entailed.

“Excellent,” Toshinori said, bringing everyone back to task, “once you name your group, we’ll plan when and how you will scout out the marshes. We should wait to hear back from the other packs first. They may want to send someone to join, if they do not already have information to share.”

“If they had information, I’d hope they would have told us already,” Tensei sighed.

Toshinori made a low growling noise, still staring at the map before him.

He hadn’t been staring for much longer when there came a tentative knock at the door.

“Enter,” the pack alpha called, and the door carefully opened.

A young beta woman Katsuki didn’t recognize was seated at the entrance. She bowed her head to the council before speaking. “Alpha,” she kept her voice low as well, “watchers have spotted Tenna returning. She is accompanied by one of Yoroi’s warriors.”

Touya snickered and pressed his hands together with a sharp clap. “Good,” he aimed that smirk at Katsuki again, “things’re finally going to get started.”

Ignoring the alpha’s outburst, Toshinori nodded. “When they arrive, bring them here. We shall speak with Yoroi’s warrior immediately.”

Chapter Text

Katsuki did not know exactly what to think of this Yoroi’s warrior, other than he initially liked him, but the feeling started to sour, then he wasn’t sure what to think though he knew he respected the warrior deeply.

The introduction started off fine enough. Soon after the announcement, Tenna and an alpha warrior appeared before the council, both bowing low to Toshinori before being invited in. Tenna took her spot between her sons while the visiting warrior took a spot at the far end of the fire, seated between the two lines of the council.

He held himself proudly and upright but with a friendly, open smile. His appearance was immediately marked as different from any of Toshinori’s pack by a heavy cape of dark green, the same color as the forest, perfect for disappearing between the trees. The cloak swamped his broad frame, though Katsuki caught a glimpse of simple robing underneath and the shine of a dark leather hilt at his waist. His dark skin was clean and warm, especially with that beautiful smile of his. A tumble of locs fell over his shoulders, tied with a simple leather knot at the back of his head. Long strings of leather twists, beads, bells, and feathers had been braided among his locs, ringing pleasantly when he shook his head. Between his bearing and the carefully put together appearance, Katsuki recognized this man as a natural diplomat, someone any pack would be more than happy to send to keep good favor with their neighbors. But there was still a sense of expectation in the way he looked people full in the face, in the giving and demanding of respect. He was still a warrior, and Katsuki suspected he would be a rather skilled and difficult opponent.

Everything about his first impressions of the warrior made Katsuki like him on a fundamental level. He was a man deserving of respect, and Katsuki was more than happy to show him such.

Until, that is, the warrior spotted Izuku in the crowd and his smile widened.

“Ah! Lovely aeon!”

The warrior shot to his feet and, ignoring all sense of decorum, raced over to Izuku, offering his hand to the omega and a low bow of his head. “Great Izuku, it is wonderful to see you again! You look absolutely spiteful!”

Something about the full-throated way the warrior called Izuku spiteful startled Katsuki so much that he didn’t react, caught between an instinct to snarl and a very confused thought, Did that just happen?

When he looked around to get everyone else’s reaction, no one seemed shocked at all, and Izuku even laughed at the compliment. A genuine laugh, too, not one of those polite laughs. He placed his hand in the warrior’s palm and let him kiss his knuckle.

“Good to see you as well, Malcus. I’m glad Alpha Yoroi sent you today.”

“As am I, dear one.” The warrior, Malcus, Katsuki gathered, lifted Izuku’s hand high in the air, seemingly some gesture of honor, before releasing the omega and going back to his spot at the end of the fire. He sat with a hearty chuckle. “You are truly blessed, Alpha Toshinori, to call Izuku your own! It is good to see him thriving.”

Thriving was the wrong word to use. It snapped through the air, too innocent to feel real. Katsuki could almost feel the accusation that leaped to the council’s tongues, their glare examining Malcus for what he knew, how he could have known. Several glanced at Tenna, trying to read her for what she had told him, but even she looked surprised. Although no one said anything, although Izuku kept smiling, the air thickened, suffocating.

Toshinori waved away the compliment, and for a moment Katsuki thought Malcus would be distracted enough that he wouldn’t notice the wave of tension and unease that swept the room at his words. But even as the warrior bowed his head to Toshinori in response, his gaze flicked along those gathered before him, gathering up information without missing a step.

His gaze lingered on Katsuki for a long moment before he turned back to Toshinori.

“You have a guest, Alpha Toshinori. It’s unusual for me to see a new face amongst your pack.”

Was there a warning in his words? Katsuki couldn’t tell who the warning might be for. Then he noticed how Malcus’s gaze lingered not on him, but on the robe he wore. On the bright blue color draped over him.

Ah, this had been the real purpose of the robes. To mark him. Claim him. Toshinori was clearly putting his color on Katsuki. Perhaps to keep their visitors from being too suspicious. Perhaps to show that he was still in command, even of rogues who wandered into his territory.

He felt his jaw set, took the tension in his body and centered it in keeping his mouth shut. If he let go for even a second, he might open his mouth and say something that could get him in trouble. And Touya was still looking for that single second to strike.

Toshinori lifted a hand to Katsuki, decisively ignoring the tension still lingering in the room. “Yes. This is Katsuki. He brings news. News we wish to share with you and Yoroi.”

“Tenna mentioned something moving in the pack grounds,” Malcus sat back, placing his hands on his knees. His attention had sharpened to an edge, a blade ready to be swung. “Alpha Yoroi sent me in good faith that you would explain what is happening. What threat, exactly, is out there.”

Toshinori bowed his head toward the map between them, and started explaining. He explained things with the finesse of an experienced brawler. Carefully side stepping certain details to force others clearly into view. Although he made no mention of Izuku being injured, he did talk about the pack’s omegas being targeted. Malcus seemed to gleam something from the mention of an attack during a “moon,” though Katsuki didn’t know the significance of such a thing. He and the rogues had simply found the omegas because they had been gathered and together. They’d had no idea of any significance around the gathering, and he’d given it no further thought. Watching Maclus’s expression though, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Had Alpha known about this “moon?” Had Jest? Had they sent the rogues in, knowing they were on target to disrupt something sacred?

It was hard to tell, and Katsuki knew it wasn’t time for him to speak, so he didn’t. He let Toshinori weave a deliberate tale, speaking of the threat of the rogue pack without expounding on how, exactly, his pack had already been affected.

As he spoke, Malcus listened intently. Not for one second did Katsuki think Malcus was fool enough to think what Toshinori told him was everything. No, in fact, he listened close enough to hear the spaces between the story, the convenient pauses where information was lost. He listened, and never once interrupted Toshinori or asked for clarity. And when the alpha had finished speaking, he bowed his head.

“That is… quite serious news, indeed.”

“You understand now why we thought it important to warn your pack and alpha,” Toshinori concluded.

Malcus nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, this is… rather alarming. Alpha Yoroi will want to hear the full story immediately. We need to assess the danger posed to our pack.”

“For now, we have reason to believe this rogue pack is focused on us,” Toshinori added smoothly. “They attacked our omegas, after all, sent people into our territory. But we do not know if they will expand their attacks now that they no longer have the element of surprise with us.”

Malcus made a low growling noise, something deep in his chest. “We haven’t noticed anything unusual recently. None of our patrols have seen anything out of the ordinary. But we haven’t been looking too hard. Our territory is usually safe, as you know, between your pack and Alpha Shinya’s.”

“Yes. Speaking of,” Toshinori lifted a hand to Tenna, a silent command to step forward. She pulled a scroll from a fold in her robe and handed it to the alpha, who in turn gave it over to Malcus. “We were hoping Yoroi might pass along this information to Shinya. It would be faster if you would help spread word of the rogue pack.”

Malcus shoved the scroll into a pocket in his cloak without hardly looking at it. “You’re intent on warning everyone, then?”

“As many as we can. We do not know what this pack wants. Whether they just want to cause chaos, or if they want to take over a territory.”

Malcus nodded, his eyes widening with understanding. “No one would want to see a pack like that as their neighbor.” He grimaced deeply. “But you should know, things are not so simple. Alpha Yoroi and Alpha Shinya have had a… disagreement as of late. I may not be welcome to deliver news to their pack.”

The news seemed to rattle Toshinori. Katsuki watched as the unease swept around the room in stolen glances and half-hidden grimaces. No one seemed overly surprised though. This was news they had been expecting, but dreaded to hear anyway.

“I’m sure Alpha Shinya would welcome Tenna, if she were to deliver the news. He has always respected you, of course, Alpha Toshinori,” Malcus continued. Katsuki noted that he didn’t move to hand over the scroll.

Toshinori shook his head. “I’m afraid Tenna has to go north. And we cannot spare many with the rogue pack potentially focused on us. Ask Yoroi if he will try. Surely Shinya will listen with a threat this massive.”

Malcus was already tilting his head toward a refusal, his mouth half open, when another voice broke through the conversation, “You will try, at least, won’t you Malcus?”

Although his words were somewhat plaintive, Izuku looked downright steely in the low light. There was nothing soft in the way he faced his father’s guest, nothing gentle or appeasing. Only a line of determination setting his shoulders straight, his eyes fixed on the warrior in their midst.

“This is a threat to all of us. Alpha Shinya will understand. And if it comes from you, he will be more inclined to believe it.”

For a second, Katsuki thought he was going to refuse. But then, the tilt of refusal in Malcus’s jaw turned to one of assent. “Perhaps.” Malcus paused. “If I may, Alpha Toshinori, how did your guest come to learn this information?”

Toshinori didn’t answer immediately. Katsuki had the sense he was gathering himself, prepared for this inevitable of questions. But Malcus wasn’t looking at Toshinori anymore. He was looking squarely at Katsuki, his question for him and him alone.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. Kaya had told him to keep his head down and his mouth shut whenever he could, to let the council wail and whisper to one another, to let Toshinori handle whoever may come to speak at the council. But Malcus was demanding answers from him. He’d laid a challenge between them, warrior to warrior, and he was waiting to see if Katsuki would rise to meet it.

So Katsuki said, “I was one of the rogues Alpha sent to attack this pack.”

He heard a sharp breath behind him and knew it was Izuku, but he kept his focus on Malcus, watching as surprise, then suspicion darkened his brows.

“I see.” He shifted subtly. Katsuki didn’t miss that he rested his hand close to the weapon at his waist. “And now you sit here, draped in the alpha’s colors. Quite a change, isn’t it?”

“Katsuki warned us about Alpha and his pack,” Izuku said hurriedly. He put a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, perhaps as a sign of solidarity, though Katsuki got the impression it was more a warning for him to be quiet. “He’s not one of them. He saved me.”

Malcus’s gaze sharpened. “He saved you, aeon?”

Izuku’s grip tightened, then slid off his shoulder. “I, uh—”

Malcus had already turned away, back to Toshinori. “You didn’t say this rogue pack had targeted your aeon. That is most alarming news, indeed.”

“We don’t know if they knew who Izuku is,” Toshinori kept his voice steady, in control. He didn’t cede an inch of space to Malcus, even as the warrior paced at his boundaries, searching for weakness. He’d smelled the blood in their words and found its source, and now he wanted more. Toshinori refused him, and instead said, “We’ve had no indication this was a targeted attack on Izuku. It seems more coincidence than anything else.”

“Coincidence that nearly had your aeon taken by a rogue pack?” Malcus shook his head. “Bad tidings, Alpha Toshinori.”

“Indeed.” The voice of consensus was unexpected, knocking Katsuki out of his staring. Mirai had spoken, and now he leaned closer to Malcus, as if conspiring with him. There was a gleam in his eyes Katsuki didn’t trust, but Malcus didn’t seem to notice it. “These bad tidings are exactly why we’ve reached out to the other packs. Alpha Toshinori would not have you and yours taken by surprise as we were. Had we heard of this threat, we would have reacted differently. We’re hoping this spares you some grief.”

“Yes.” Malcus tapped his knee with a finger. Katsuki noticed his hand had drifted away from his weapon. “Alpha Yoroi will want to hear everything. I must return to warn him, and to pass the word on to Alpha Shinya.”

“We thank you for this,” Toshinori dipped his head slightly and Malcus returned it with a full bow, nearly pressing his head to the floor. “Should you have trouble informing Shinya, pass us a message. We will see what we can do.”

“Of course.” Malcus went to stand but Toshinori lifted a hand, asking him to wait.

“When you meet with your alpha to tell him the news, pass along another message to him.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out another scroll, which he handed over to Malcus.

Malcus took it without looking at it, tucking it into his pocket with the other. “I believe I can speak for my alpha when I give thanks for what you’ve told me today. I’m sure we shall be in touch soon.” He bowed low to Toshinori, then swiveled to face Izuku. He bowed to him as well. “Farewell, aeon. I’m glad you are well, and that no harm came to you. I believe I can also speak for my alpha when I say, had some harm come upon you, we would have spared no expense to your recovery.”

Of all the things Katsuki had expected Malcus to say, that had not been it. He glanced over at Izuku, who didn’t seem all that surprised to hear this. He bowed back to Malcus and said, “Thank you. And give thanks to your alpha for me as well.”

“There’s no need to rush you out,” Toshinori added. “Stay. Have a meal with our pack. Be welcome.”

Malcus smiled, something tired in his eyes. Even Katsuki knew he could not turn down such an offer from a pack alpha, even if he wanted to, and Katsuki could see the want in Malcus’s eyes. While he kept it quiet, the news had shaken him. He wanted to return to his own pack, perhaps to reassure himself that everything was all right.

Katsuki wondered what, exactly, worried Malcus most. As Toshinori had spoken of Alpha and his pack, Malcus had listened intently and with a growing sense of anger. Given half the chance, Katsuki thought the warrior might run out to face Alpha himself, right then and there. But then, as the conversation had gone on, his confidence had waned. Trying to pinpoint the exact moment was difficult, though he suspected it had something to do with the news that Izuku had been attacked. The fact that a different pack, one Katsuki hadn’t heard spoken of until that moment, would have pledged to help rescue Izuku was unusual to say the least. There was something else going on, and Katsuki didn’t have enough information to know what.

Still, he kept his mouth shut and watched as Malcus bowed to Toshinori and accepted his invitation.

The council dispersed at a wave from Toshinori. Izuku stood quickly, despite his mother reaching for him, and hurried to follow Malcus outside. The warrior paused when Izuku called to him and bowed his head politely. Katsuki watched their exchange, but couldn’t quite read what was happening between them. Izuku whispered something to Malcus and the warrior’s smile widened. He bowed a little deeper to the omega and said something about informing his alpha immediately. There was a spark in his eyes that Katsuki didn’t like, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Did Kaya and her daughters treat you well?”

It took Katsuki a moment to realize Toshinori was talking to him. If he’d noticed his son speaking with Malcus, he gave no indication.

“Yes, they did. They were… kind.” The word felt sticky in his mouth.

Toshinori paused, as if he expected more. “Well I’m glad to hear that. Did the cleansing help any?”

Katsuki felt his jaw tense. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Toshinori, what he’d felt, the way so much dirt and dust had come off his skin, how he feared what he looked like now, sitting there in a robe that felt too soft and too constricting in a color that was unfamiliar to him.

“It wasn’t an unwelcome experience,” he said eventually. He knew the words were clumsy, but he didn’t quite know what else to say.

Inko shifted closer, sitting between him and Toshinori. For a second, Katsuki thought it was a signal that he had insulted the alpha, that his mate was coming forward to keep him calm, but she was too relaxed for that to be the case.

“It can be a difficult moment, for some,” she said softly, as if to a child. Somehow, Katsuki didn’t feel insulted by her tone. He only leaned a little closer to listen. “Thank you for sitting with our council. Your presence is helpful in these times.”

“Yes, have to make sure everyone knows you have the rogue under control.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, but once they were said, he didn’t regret them. It was the truth. He wanted to make it clear that he understood that.

Toshinori didn’t look ashamed, but he did at least nod his head. “There are some who will never trust you. Especially those who have not seen you and come to know you. This is for your safety, as well as ours. I could not guarantee that everyone would take your presence well outside of these circumstances.”

Without meaning to, Katsuki glanced over to Touya. The alpha was watching him. Of course he was watching. He even smiled when Katsuki met his eyes. “So I see.”

“Tenna,” Toshinori called, “should we be expecting Shota’s messenger tonight?”

“Almost certainly,” Tenna replied.

“Then we’ll wait for their arrival.” For the first time, Toshinori looked toward his son. Izuku lingered in the doorway, despite Malcus having wandered off. The omega was staring out across the village, looking for something. There was still an edge to his posture, his back a little too stiff, his eyes a little too pinpointed. The knife at his waist stood out against his coat.

It was this knife that Toshinori stared at. He stared at it long enough that Katsuki thought he was going to say something, but the alpha turned away without speaking. He let Izuku go, in that moment. Katsuki didn’t know if that was the wise thing to do, but he supposed it wasn’t his decision to make. He just kept watch, waiting for the right time to act.

- - -

Malcus didn’t seem surprised when Izuku told him.

“I’ll inform Alpha Yoroi at once,” he smiled when he spoke, until his words were slightly distorted. He reached as if to take Izuku’s hand, then stopped himself. No doubt Malcus was planning to take part in his courting season, and such casual touching would be inappropriate until certain points in the process.

Izuku could tell he’d been expecting to hear this news eventually. After all, he was the aeon. It was sure to happen, even if he’d dragged his feet longer than most. How long had Malcus waited for the news? How many others had waited, anticipating the day he’d finally grow up?

One day—

Izuku smiled and bowed his head to Malcus, who lifted his hand in a flourishing gesture. “I’ll see you before I leave,” the alpha said.

“Enjoy your time with us,” Izuku replied. He stood watch as Malcus drifted off, looking much more satisfied than before. He even managed to keep smiling until he felt someone move at his back.

He knew it was Shoto, because it was always Shoto, so he let the smile fade and leaned toward him, relieved by his presence. So close, he could feel that something was wrong. Shoto didn’t lean into him as he usually would have. In fact, he shied away from Izuku, keeping deliberate space between them.

A pang of hurt washed through Izuku, until he realized Shoto might be doing exactly what Malcus had done. Life would change for him once he officially announced his courting seasoning, but he’d never thought it would change even before.

“Where’d you get that?”

The question didn’t fit with the current thoughts running through Izuku’s head, so all he managed in response was a quiet, “Uh.”

He felt Shoto’s hand near his waist, then at the hilt of his sword. Izuku immediately grabbed the sword, tilting it away from the alpha. Still, no doubt he’d noticed the familiar grooves, the worn places where Izuku’s hand had molded the leather. They’d fought long enough, Izuku with that specific sword, that Shoto would know it anywhere.

It was foolish to keep it with him. Izuku had known people would ask questions. Everyone had known he hadn’t come back from the Moon with it. For all anyone knew, it had been lost in the scuffle. Izuku had never imagined he’d have it again, and perhaps enough time had passed that people had begun to get used to seeing him without it.

But here it was again. And people had noticed a lot faster than he’d anticipated.

He wasn’t completely caught off guard though. He’d known the questions were coming. So he simply shrugged. “It was on my table when I went to rest. I thought maybe one of the scouting parties had found it and left it for me there.”

“No one’s told you they left it there?” Shoto asked.

Izuku swallowed. “Not yet.”

He didn’t like lying to Shoto. He didn’t like lying to anyone, but particularly not Shoto. He knew the alpha wouldn’t question him. Even if he didn’t quite believe Izuku, he wouldn’t press for answers. It wasn’t in his nature to be distrustful of Izuku. Everyone else, yes. But Izuku had always been a safe place for him. Someone he could rely on, depend on, someone who would always have his back.

Shoto didn’t ask more questions. He didn’t seem to fully accept Izuku’s explanation, but it was enough for now. Izuku didn’t know when it wouldn’t be enough, when someone would ask a question he couldn’t answer. But for now, he let it all go.

Jest’s appearance had rattled Izuku. More than that though, his words had bewildered him. He knew he should tell someone, anyone, that Jest had appeared in their village unannounced and seemingly without detection. But he didn’t. And he wasn’t really sure why.

Jest had been straightforward. He’d said exactly what he wanted. He wanted Izuku to send Katsuki out to be taken by Alpha’s pack. What they planned to do with Katsuki, Izuku didn’t want to imagine. He couldn’t fathom why they had such an interest in Katsuki, but he didn’t think Jest’s explanation was the full reason. And maybe that was what was wrong. He didn’t know what Jest truly wanted. He didn’t know what he was capable of. It seemed to him that if Jest could appear in their village, in the aeon’s dwelling of all places, that he could have simply stolen away with Katsuki had he wished it. So why involve Izuku at all?

More to the point, if Jest could appear anywhere he wished, he could have threatened harm against any of the pack, including Izuku’s mother or father. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t seemed interested in Izuku’s pack at all. Only Katsuki.

Maybe Jest understood that even with whatever blessing he possessed, he wasn’t strong enough to subdue Katsuki. Izuku had seen Katsuki fight; he knew he was a powerful warrior, one that didn’t seem accustomed to losing. If Jest faced Katsuki in a direct confrontation, perhaps he knew the alpha would win, and something told Izuku Katsuki would take the chance to kill Jest. He was a big enough threat that Katsuki might think it better to simply be rid of him. Maybe Jest was simply playing the hand he knew would get him what he wanted without getting him killed.

Still, Izuku didn’t think that was the full explanation. Something was going on, and he was afraid of what might be coming next. Yet whenever he thought about telling someone, his mouth dried up. No, he needed more information. He needed to know exactly what these rogues wanted. News they had been infiltrated would just cause more panic, more distrust. No, Izuku could handle it. And in the meantime, he could make sure the pack was protected. So long as Jest was only bothering him, he could handle it.

“You’re very quiet.”

Shoto’s voice didn’t startle him, but it was a welcome beacon through the fog of his worry. Izuku sighed, shaking his head to be rid of the last dregs of that whispering voice. “I’m worried. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

Shoto growled quietly, and whether it was an agreement or an appeasement, Izuku couldn’t tell. He thought about leaning against Shoto, seeking some comfort from him, but didn’t. It wouldn’t be proper for him to outwardly show deference to the alpha. Not yet anyway.

After a moment, Shoto nodded toward where Malcus had disappeared into the village. “He seemed happy. Did you tell him your plan?”

“You make it sound like I’m scheming,” Izuku grumbled.

Shoto shrugged. “If you’ve told him, that means you’re going to have to tell your parents soon.”

“I know,” Izuku muttered. He’d purposefully ignored that particular reality, though it was an inevitability that kept scratching at the back of his mind. His mother would be thrilled. His father? He didn’t know how his father would react, and he was a little afraid of what he might say. “When I have a private moment with them, I’ll tell them. But not until it’s a little quieter.”

“Mm.” Shoto turned and Izuku followed his gaze, more by instinct than curiosity.

Katsuki stood nearby, watching the two of them. His eyes were narrowed and his nose was wrinkled, as if he’d smelled something unpleasant. When Izuku met his gaze, the alpha purposefully glanced at Izuku’s sword. Izuku stifled the urge to grab it again. Katsuki was the only other person who had seen what happened to his sword. He’d been the one to toss it aside. Izuku couldn’t quite tell if he was insulted by its presence or suspicious of its reappearance.

He didn’t approach the two, instead inclining his head to Izuku and turning toward the pack hall. The line of his shoulders was straight and tall as he walked, almost stiff. Izuku thought absently that he didn’t really look well in blue. He’d look better draped in red, he thought, then frowned wondering why he was thinking of such things at all.

Shoto snorted. “A rogue wearing our alpha’s colors. It’s wrong.”

Izuku hummed to calm him, and didn’t dare say that he agreed.

- - -

Malcus was easy to find. He laughed loudly and often and spoke with an accent unfamiliar to the pack. All Katsuki had to do was listen and follow the sound of his voice.

The warrior had set up a mat near the middle of the pack hall, close to where Katsuki had slept the previous night. Several pack members sat around him, laughing with him, listening intently as he told a story or a joke. Katsuki didn’t really care what.

He was halfway across the room when Malcus’s nostrils flared and he tilted his head, almost bored, toward Katsuki. “Ah! I was hoping to have a private word with you.” He gestured Katsuki over, despite the sudden discomfort of his crowd.

Katsuki surveyed the scene before him. “Not much of a private word.”

Malcus lifted a goblet to Katsuki, some sort of conciliation, before tossing its contents over his shoulder. The liquid splashed against the fire, which hissed in fury, quelled for a breath only to redouble in defiance. His ritual complete, Malcus stood.

“Come. We won’t go far.” He added to those watching. They glared at Katsuki, still distrustful, but said nothing as Malcus led him away.

“It’s odd,” Katsuki said as they walked.

“What is?” Malcus seemed genuinely curious.

“They treat you like you’re one of their own. But you’re not.”

Malcus let out a dry sort of sound, a laugh only if you were pretending it was a joyful noise. “This pack is more welcoming than most, especially if you know the right things to say. Which is why Alpha Yoroi sends me to deal with them.” He tossed a smile toward Katsuki. “Or, really, it’s more who you’re friendly with in this pack. The others follow their heart and their head almost to a fault. But I suppose you’ve noticed that by now.”

Katsuki said nothing. He knew Malcus meant Izuku and Toshinori. He’d shown pointed deference to both of them and not quite as much to the other council members. Perhaps Tenna, though Katsuki supposed he’d have more interactions with Tenna than most of the others. Still, Malcus knew what he was doing, cozying up to the pack’s alpha and aeon.

“You telling me you’re only friendly to gain favor with the pack?” Katsuki growled.

A frown crossed Malcus’s face, but quickly faded. “It’s my duty. To my alpha. This isn’t my pack, as you said. But there’s no reason to not be friendly. And besides.” His voice softened, but not with fondness. More like pity. “Alpha Toshinori and Aeon Izuku are good people. Too good, some might say. It would be easy to take advantage. To which,” he stopped and faced Katsuki.

Katsuki had kept careful track of their walk through the village, but nothing about where they stood seemed out of the ordinary. Perhaps that was the point though. They hadn’t slunk off to a quiet corner, clearly seeking privacy. Standing in the open, they were almost as invisible as they might be in the shadows. And even then, no one walked close by, no one turned their way. They stood in the open and yet sequestered off from the main bustle of the pack.

Malcus knew this pack well, Katsuki realized. It would be his duty, yes, but this was something else. If Malcus’s alpha wished to stage an attack, Malcus would know all the best places to invade, all the quiet areas to slip in a few choice warriors, the open areas to best cause chaos.

In a way, he reminded Katsuki of Jest. And that did not settle well with him at all.

Malcus, too, looked at Katsuki with a narrowed eye, as if trying to see him from two different angles at the same time. They didn’t trust one another, though that was not surprising. Katsuki wondered exactly why Malcus didn’t trust him. Was it because he was a rogue, that he’d attacked the omegas of this pack? Or did Malcus see how truly dangerous Katsuki could be? Or was it something else entirely? Not as if he could ask, so he kept quiet and allowed the alpha to scrutinize him.

“In all my time with this pack, I’ve never seen anyone outside the closest to the alpha wearing his colors. And even then, they don’t usually wear so much of the alpha’s colors.” He left it as a statement, the real question unasked but still within his words.

Katsuki didn’t give him the satisfaction of answering it. “The robes here are very different from what my pack used to wear.”

“Hmm. Perhaps one day we’ll have to swap tailoring preferences,” Malcus lifted his elbows, his cloak flaring around him. In doing so, it clearly revealed a number of weapons once hidden in the folds. Katsuki noticed them, but didn’t look directly at them. He was in a game with Malcus now, one he intended to win.

“You didn’t bring me out here to talk about clothing. So get to it.”

“Have somewhere to be, do you?” Malcus smiled when he spoke. It was more a reflex than anything else, Katsuki was realizing. Something practiced until it was ingrained in his speech. Clever, perhaps, for a diplomat, but the effect was off-putting when you noticed it.

Katsuki didn’t bother to answer, so Malcus continued, “I’ll make this quick then.” He let his cloak snap closed around him, the heavy material muffling his movements. Still, Katsuki saw the subtle swish of an arm near the hilt of the weapon at his waist, thought he heard the whisper of metal along a leather sheath. He braced himself, held his breath, and Malcus smiled through it all. “Alpha Toshinori may not appreciate my killing his guest, but Alpha Yoroi would welcome me back a hero.”

“You’re looking to start a war, then?” Katsuki set his teeth. “There are easier ways, but go ahead. Try your luck.”

“My duty is to keep peace in these lands, between these packs. And you are the biggest threat I’ve seen in all my time.” He took a step forward. Katsuki bared his teeth in warning. Their game was escalating quickly. Still, no one had noticed. Everything was too subtle, too quiet. Just as Malcus wanted it. But Katsuki didn’t know how the pack would react if he made a lot of noise. They might think he was the one attacking Malcus. He remembered the way Shoto and his family had looked at him, waiting for an excuse to attack. This would be more than just an excuse. So he stayed quiet, watching for what Malcus would do next.

“Let it be clear. I stay my blade only because you wear the Alpha’s colors, and it would be a scandal beyond recovery to spill your blood over it. Alpha Toshinori had gifted you the protection of his blood. For that and that alone, you still breathe.” Malcus’s cloak whispered aside, the dull gleam of a blade slipping between the folds.

Katsuki sunk into a stance, felt the robes catching at his knees. He swallowed a snarl of fury and frustration. The robes might be saving him from Malcus outright attacking him, but they sure as hell might get him killed anyway if he couldn’t dodge an attack while wearing them.

“So go ahead,” Katsuki growled, “try your luck. I don’t need Toshinori’s protection.”

“Alpha Toshinori. You will show him due respect.”

“What do you care? You’re the one who said this isn’t your clan. You’re being pretty presumptive threatening me for a pack you don’t care about.”

“Ah. And that is where you are wrong.” Malcus stood, and the blade disappeared. There was a short movement between the folds, then Malcus put his hands on his hips, the cloak parting over his chest and waist, revealing the blade back in its sheath. “You aren’t from these lands, clearly. There’s no point in arguing it,” he added, though Katsuki hadn’t tried to speak. “This pack sits at the center of four other packs. It is the anchor that holds the territories together, and also keeps them apart. The stability of this pack affects the very stability of these lands. Should something bring it out of balance, all the other packs would be dragged into conflict, either with each other or within themselves. The preservation of this pack is second in my priority, only below the preservation of my own pack, because if this pack were to disintegrate, my pack would follow soon after.”

Malcus took a step back. The movement wasn’t conciliatory, not a gesture of surrender, but more an acknowledgement that there would be no direct conflict that day. Despite this, Katsuki kept on alert. He knew just because there wouldn’t be a fight that moment didn’t mean a fight wasn’t coming. If Malcus decided he was truly a threat, then he’d have the might have to worry about more than one pack wanting him dead, apparently.

Part of him knew it would never be easy to be accepted. He’d even told Izuku he hadn’t needed acceptance. But his knees were starting to hurt from being tensed, his back ached with being ready to launch forward, his palms were slick with sweat no matter how many times he wiped them. And he was tired. So tired. He hadn’t realized how much until he’d taken that dip in the cleansing pool. Watching the dirt roll off him, all his struggling and the miles he’d walked in vain represented by a flood of dirt and debris. Even that had been exhausting.

If Malcus took insult from his unwillingness to relax, he didn’t show it. In fact, he graced Katsuki with a moment of quiet, turning his gaze away for the first time. He frowned out toward the village, toward the pack slowly going about their business. No one had noticed them, save for one child who peered around his mother’s legs toward them, though he obediently followed her when she tugged him along.

The warrior sighed as he watched the pup. “I don’t believe in coincidences. That rogue alpha sent you and the others to this pack for a reason. Perhaps I don’t know for certain he was aware of this pack’s importance to the region, or even that Izuku would be at the Moon when he sent you to hunt omegas, but he knew something.”

“He never said anything to us,” Katsuki growled, “just sent us on our way.”

Malcus nodded, his frown deepening. “And you were desperate enough not to ask questions.” It wasn’t a question, and Katsuki didn’t bother to answer it. They both knew it was true.

It would have never occurred to Skull-Face to ask questions, Solid wasn’t the curious type, and Katsuki had been too desperate to care. Alpha must have known they wouldn’t question him; they had no reason, not when he was promising them what they wanted. If he was playing at a larger game, then the rogues he’d sent were simply pawns, easily discarded. And Jest? Jest was the real threat.

For a heartbeat, Katsuki considered telling Malcus about Jest. Toshinori had spoken of Jest, but not nearly in the terms that Katsuki knew him. He was the real threat in this game, perhaps even more than Alpha. Alpha was content to play this out from his throne. Jest was the piece he moved in to do real damage.

Instead, he said, “I’m not one of Alpha’s anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone here. But I will, if I must.” He bared his teeth as he spoke.

Malcus let out a dry sort of laugh, bereft of amusement. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. But, for now, I’ll allow you time to prove it, hmm?” The warrior shifted from foot to foot, still staring out over the village. “Things are about to change here. I have a feeling you’ll have more than your fair share of chances to prove your intent. Then we’ll revisit this conversation, yes?” Katsuki grimaced, but Malcus went on as if he hadn’t noticed, “In the meantime, just remember what I said. My alpha would endorse my killing you in a heartbeat. So if you do anything to harm this pack, I will end you.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and allowed himself to stand upright, his body still aching. “You’ll be fighting about seven others for the right to kill me.”

Malcus smiled again. It was softer than his diplomatic smile, genuine. “I imagine I would.” He tilted his head to Katsuki, and although he didn’t know the exact meaning, he gathered it was again a small conciliatory gesture. “Do good, not-rogue. I suppose I’ll see you tonight.”

With that done, Malcus turned away, leaving Katsuki standing there. Katsuki found himself rather used to being openly threatened by strange warriors, and felt something twist up in his gut at the thought. He shook his hands out, feeling little droplets run down his palms, and ducked into the crowd before Touya could find him alone.

Chapter Text

There was no place he could find to take a nap, to let himself rest enough to regain his strength, so Katsuki kept close to the center of the pack. No one would outright attack him with so many around, he knew, and although all he wanted was a moment of peace and quiet, he couldn’t afford to be alone. Not with so many waiting for their chance to stab him through the heart. Even sitting on a mat just off the main thoroughfare for the village, he still felt he couldn’t close his eyes, for even a second. He kept a wall at his back, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t sneak up on him. He had to stay vigilant.

Vigilant as he was, he spotted Izuku immediately, and more importantly that Izuku spotted him.

The aeon paused, the crowd rustling around him, murmuring to him softly. The village rippled when the aeon stopped, accommodating him while also pausing to notice that he was staring. More than a few pairs of eyes flicked toward him then quickly away. Only Izuku stared, a frown half-formed along his lips.

Then, he nodded, perhaps to himself, and started walking over.

Any other time, Katsuki would have been delighted to have caught the omega’s attention. He might have smirked and licked his lips just to see how Izuku would react. But he was much too tired to be coy, and truth be told he didn’t want the added attention that came with the aeon’s presence. Not that that was Izuku’s fault, Katsuki tried to remind himself, but he felt it all the same, the way the village curved toward Izuku and therefore him as well.

All he wanted was a small, dark burrow to hide and to sleep. Was that really so much to ask?

“What’s wrong?” Izuku stood before him, his frown deepened.

Katsuki snorted. “What’s saying anything is wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” Izuku amended, “care to explain what?”

“Nope.”

Not one to be deterred, Izuku immediately plopped down right in front of Katsuki. At first, he sat up formally, an ingrained instinct just like Malcus’s smile. But after a pause, he kicked his legs out from under him and leaned back on his palms.

“I can help, if you tell me. That’s my job, you know.”

Katsuki surveyed the omega’s position. It wasn’t exactly relaxed, but it was as relaxed as he’d ever seen the omega. He had one leg tucked up in front of him and the other splayed out, more as if he were stretching than anything else. Then again, he had been sitting with his legs folded up under him all morning. Maybe he needed the stretch.

As if in response to his thought, Izuku tucked his left leg close and stretched out the right one. He was wearing too much loose clothing to see, but Katsuki could imagine the muscles in his thighs and calf pulling, twisting. He closed his eyes so Izuku wouldn’t think he was staring, then remembered the causal malevolence of Touya’s lifting hand and opened them again, searching for a spot of white in the crowd.

“Please tell me,” Izuku tried again.

Katsuki sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

“Well, why don’t you go rest a little, then?”

“No good place to rest.”

“Hmm.” Izuku circled his ankle, left twice, then right. “Usually I would say you should go to the pack nest, but I don’t know if you would feel comfortable there.” Katsuki thought it was curious he didn’t bring up the fact that he, as a rogue, wouldn’t be welcome in such a place. “And we don’t have a dwelling ready for you yet. But you could probably find a nice tree to lie under. I know a few, if you need—” he stopped very suddenly, something passing through his eyes. Katsuki tried to read it, but all he caught was a hint of fear when the omega glanced over his shoulder. He went back to circling his ankle. “Or, maybe not. You should stick close to the village.”

Something about the way he said it ticked something in Katsuki’s head. At first he wondered if Izuku understood that he was in danger from people within the village, that given half a chance he would be dead before anyone could help him, but that didn’t seem to be it. There was something else in the omega’s head, but he was too practiced at hiding his thoughts and Katsuki didn’t know him well enough to be able to read the subtler shifts in his face. He noticed them, the little wrinkle at the left corner of his lips, the downward slope of his brows, the way he tapped at the ground with only one finger. There was something there. It would take some time yet for Katsuki to learn what.

Then, the omega’s face lit up and he jumped to his feet. “I have an idea.” He held out his hand to Katsuki.

The gesture was strange, startling even, but Katsuki took his offered hand. Something sparked along his palm at the touch, so much so that Katsuki paused, wondering if he’d lost control. When he searched Izuku’s face though, he didn’t see any pain, nor did the omega pull away. No, indeed, he was watching Katsuki intently, reading him for something just as Katsuki had been trying to read him.

What do you see? Katsuki wanted to ask. He wanted to know what the omega was looking for in him, and what he was seeing.

Izuku’s lips tipped upward. “I see a very confused young alpha. Do omegas not do this in your pack?”

Katsuki blinked. Had he said that out loud?

“Uh—” Uh? Since when the hell did he get tongue-tied? He was the one who was supposed to be teasing the omega, testing his boundaries, searching for ways to get under his skin to watch how he squirmed.

Izuku pulled, and Katsuki remembered quite quickly just how strong the omega was. Of course he knew that, from their fight in the woods and from everything he’d seen. But it was a bit shocking to be reminded. Izuku pulled him easily to his feet, then stood with their hands still clasped.

Katsuki didn’t try to take his hand away. He wanted to see how long they could stand like that before something happened, before Izuku realized. They were close, inches apart. It would only take Katsuki leaning in slightly for him to bite, or kiss, the omega. But Izuku let him stand close, brows furrowed.

Finally, Izuku pulled his hand away, but not back. Instead, he reached up, his hand hovering over Katsuki. No, not just over him. Over the scars along his face.

The omega had been studying his scars.

Katsuki stepped back immediately and Izuku let his hand drop. His brow wasn’t furrowed in concentration, as Katsuki had first thought. There was sorrow in those big eyes of his. Perhaps more, but Katsuki refused to look deeper. He didn’t want to know what he would find: fear, curiosity… pity.

“You need something or you gonna just keep staring?” Katsuki snapped.

Izuku blinked and stepped back equally, until there was a respectful amount of space between them. “I’m sorry. Did, um, did your blessing do that to you?”

My blessing? Katsuki scratched at the scar on his wrist and said nothing.

When it grew a little too awkward, Izuku stumbled for something more to say. “Um, I mean, it’s okay if it is. We have pack members who have been hurt by their blessings, or even hurt other people. By mistake, of course! Never on purpose— well. Usually not on purpose. Anyway, Touya used to burn himself so badly with his blessing. Now he wears special bandages to keep himself safe. But he has scars, you know. Some of them are bad. So. I mean. You’re not the only one….” He was searching Katsuki’s face again, and not finding what he was expecting. He leaned back, as if about to step away again, then swayed forward.

“If, um, that’s not the case, then I, uh, I’m sorry you had to suffer. Well, I guess I’d be sad you suffered either way. No one should have to suffer something like that.”

“Your brilliant idea?” Katsuki prompted.

Izuku opened his mouth, closed it again. “Right.” He swayed back and forth, perhaps considering saying something else, then gestured for Katsuki to follow him.

He slipped between dwellings, giving them not a second glance, while Katsuki scanned each of them. He’d never seen such variety in a single village. Some were built with full wooden walls and others with simple stretched leather. Some were brightly decorated and others were almost painfully plain. Some were large enough to rival the council hall and others were only large enough for a single occupant and perhaps a small bundle of blankets. There didn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to how any of them were built or decorated, or how they were grouped together.

Through the days he’d been in the village, Katsuki had noticed the oddities of this pack, but this one perplexed him. His pack had certainly had their eccentrics who demanded that things be done their way, but generally everyone had lived in similar hovels to one another, marked perhaps by a signature beading pattern over the door or a painted symbol on the wall. His pack hadn’t worn individuality so loudly. They had been more focused on blending into the plains, to keeping as low a profile as possible. There were worse things that hunted the plains, his parents had always told him.

He hadn’t believed them, until they had come for his pack.

“Are you all right?” Izuku’s voice was low, but he wasn’t hiding his concern well. “You look like you’re in pain. Your scars don’t pain you, do they?”

“No.” Katsuki thought about it. “Not unless it’s about to rain. Which it does more often here than I’m used to.”

“Hmm.” Izuku laced his fingers together behind his back. “There may be ointments you can use to feel a little better, if you’d like.”

“Have bigger worries than a few aches at the moment.” Of course, what was sleep but an ache that was annoyingly hard to quell?

“Maybe.” Izuku clearly thought about arguing with him, then let his hands pop apart, pointing between the dwellings. “There’s where we’re going.”

Katsuki eyed the structure. It was unobtrusively normal, which somehow marked it out from most of the others. It had been built of thin tree saplings, all of them lashed together, with a grass thatch roof. A curtain of heavy wooden beads swung over a stretched flap of leather. Katsuki did not understand this pack’s aversion to doors. A simple latch, a strong panel of woven reeds, and a good length of rope, and you had a very stable, wind-resistant door. Also good at keeping out animals, but perhaps that was beside the point.

They approached the plain dwelling, Izuku stepping a little brighter, akin to a skip. When they neared, he called out, “Eijiro!”

The beta slammed through the hide covering in an explosion of wooden beads. “Shula!” He greeted at a shout. He spotted Katsuki and his smile widened. “Hey man! You’re looking good.”

Katsuki didn’t bother to hide his grimace, but before he could complain more, Izuku spoke up, “Katsuki needs a place to rest away from the others, and his dwelling isn’t ready yet. Think he could borrow yours for a bit?”

Katsuki made a strangled noise of denial, but Eijiro was already shouting again, “Yeah, of course! Anyone’s welcome, you know.”

Izuku dipped his head in thanks. “Is there anything he can do in return?”

“No, no. It’s been hard on everyone recently. I get needing a moment to just breathe.” Eijiro swept the beads and the hide covering aside. “Come on in! Make yourself at home!”

When Katsuki didn’t move, Izuku politely cleared his throat. “In this pack, betas often open their homes to those in need. It’s a tradition. One Eijiro enjoys upholding.”

“Sure do!” Eijiro gestured Katsuki over again. “I need to step out anyway, so you’ll have a moment of quiet if that’s what you need, or I can stick around and we can hang out.”

“You’re not the first to ask for a moment in Eijiro’s home,” Izuku continued.

Katsuki hardly heard him.

He was struck, unexpectedly, with a feeling like his body wasn’t his own, as if he were displaced even within himself. Someone else was having to give him their place to allow him a moment to rest. The clothes he wore weren’t his own. His skin was marked with the scars of someone else’s violence. The only thing he had left were the necklaces strung around his neck, charred and fragile, and he could hardly feel them pressed under so much cloth.

He swayed, and a hand took his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed Eijiro moving toward him, but the beta was there, holding him up. “Here. Let’s go inside.”

Izuku held the beads aside as Eijiro led Katsuki inside. Sunlight peered in through an opening near the top of the dwelling, but it was still much darker than Katsuki had anticipated. He blinked twice and his eyes adjusted – perk of being an alpha, he supposed – the dwelling resolving into a small room. There was a small platform in the corner where Eijiro had piled blankets on top of a mattress in what looked like a poor attempt at a nest, though why a beta would have a nest Katsuki wasn’t really sure. The rest of the room was dominated by a beautifully woven rug, the grasses painted with an intricate geometric pattern, much like the patterns Katsuki had seen in the clothing others in the pack wore. It was meticulously clean and well cared for, and when he stepped on it, following Eijiro’s lead, it was surprisingly soft. The rest of the room was insignificant, a low table, a small shelf. The mundane parts of a home quickly catalogued and dismissed.

“Here. You can rest on the rug if you’d like. Or the bed. Whatever you want. I won’t mind,” Eijiro added when Katsuki shot him a startled look.

“That’s your bed.” Katsuki said. He was dumbfounded that he had to point out the obvious.

Eijiro shrugged. “Well yeah, but if you need it, it’s there. May as well use it.”

Katsuki stared and stared at the bed, his mind feeling empty and hollow, out of place. He was so out of place.

Behind him, Izuku cleared his throat. “Give us a moment, Eijiro?”

“Yeah, of course.” Eijiro let go of Katsuki, pausing to see if he was steady on his own. “Like I said, I’ve got some things to do. Take your time, all right? Rest up and feel better, man. If you need anything, come get me.”

Katsuki acknowledged him with a nod, then felt a bit dizzy and sat down on the rug. It was warm under his fingers, soft to the touch. The clacking beads announced Eijiro had departed, and Izuku’s shadow fell over him. He dragged his gaze up, saw the omega frowning down at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Katsuki opened his mouth and a groan slipped out. He ducked his head into his hand, pinched the bridge of his nose. Shame flooded him, and at least it was strong enough to anchor him to the moment. Get yourself together. You can’t slip up now.

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to stop looking over his shoulder, stop posturing and pretending. He wanted to be grumpy and loud and know that people were going to roll their eyes at him at worst, but not try to kill him.

“This was a mistake.” The words slipped out just as the groan had.

Izuku sunk to his knees, sitting there so politely. No doubt he’d tell Katsuki that listening and talking to him was just part of his duties. That comforting him was just what he had to do.

“What is?” He didn’t soften his voice. For that, Katsuki was grateful. Even if he felt weak, at least Izuku wasn’t treating him as such.

“Staying here.” Katsuki looked around the room, so very different from anything he’d known in his village. Before arriving at Izuku’s village, he hadn’t even been inside a well-crafted shelter since his village had been destroyed.

Destroyed. Right. Wasn’t like he could go back. And now he was sitting here complaining to the pack’s top omega.

“Why do you think it was a mistake to stay here?”

Katsuki bared his teeth without thinking, but Izuku didn’t even blink at him.

When he didn’t answer, Izuku went on, “You can talk to me, you know. I’ll listen. I won’t even say anything if you don’t want me to.”

“Why?” Katsuki snarled. He watched for unease in the omega’s expression, but he remained calm and in control, and somehow that gave Katsuki permission to vent some of the restless energy within him, the frustration and fear he’d spent days keeping down. “You doing it because it’s your duty? I’m not one of you. I’ll never be one of you. Your dad gave me these robes to make sure someone didn’t outright kill me in the village center. So why would you listen? Why would you care? You have more right than most to want me dead!” He growled low in his throat, then stood.

Go ahead. He wanted to say, watching Izuku’s reaction. Show me how much you’re afraid. Show me how much you don’t trust me. How much you want me out.

A long moment passed. Katsuki kept waiting for Izuku to leap up, to either attack him or call for help. He kept waiting for Shoto and his family to crash through the walls, take their chance. Kill him. End it.

In that silence, he realized how ragged his breathing was. It strained through his teeth, through his neck, coming out in gasps rather than smooth growls. His entire body was held so still he couldn’t stop shivering. His head throbbed.

And Izuku? Izuku sat with his legs tucked under his knees, and he watched. He said nothing. If anything, his ear was tilted slightly toward Katsuki, to catch every word.

When that moment passed, when Izuku made it clear he had no intention of leaping up and screaming for help or attacking him, Katsuki slumped forward. He sank to his knees, let out a breath. It came out smoother than the others, but still with an edge that caught somewhere at the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Izuku hummed. “You seem tired.”

That catch at the back of his throat caught again, this time on a laugh that tried to turn into a sob. He refused to cry in front of the omega. It wouldn’t do him any good. He lowered his head into his palm, rubbing hard at the spot where his forehead throbbed.

“I want to be clear,” Izuku said, his voice filling the small dwelling, “I don’t want you dead. I’ve never wanted you dead. And I never want you to think I’d want you dead.”

Katsuki just rubbed at his head. He wasn’t looking, and didn’t notice the omega had moved until a hand took his. Izuku had crawled a little closer to him, their knees almost touching, the distance closed so quickly that Katsuki’s head began to spin. Or maybe that was just the exhaustion.

When he spoke again, it was with a lowered voice, soft, soothing, edged with something steelier. “I don’t just listen because it’s my duty. I want to hear what you have to say. I’ve always wanted to hear what you have to say. And if you need to say something, anything, then I’ll listen. And you can tell me whether you want to talk to me about it, or if you just want me to be here.”

He was so damn sincere. Too damn sincere. He meant every word.

Damn him. Damn him.

Katsuki knew what would happen if he opened his mouth, knew what he would say. Everything was bunched up at his teeth, knocking desperately against his lips, wanting out. He’d been snarling and growling so long to keep them back, not wanting to show weakness.

With his head bowed forward, Katsuki let his teeth part, and the words came out. “My pack is all dead.”

Izuku stilled, but Katsuki hardly noticed. He hadn’t said the words out loud ever, and they came with a full-bodied shudder, the expulsion so powerful his vision pinpointed and he thought he might faint. But he didn’t, and the words continued.

“They didn’t throw me out. They wanted me. I wanted them. But they’re all dead. Something came for us in the night. Something came and killed us all. I tried to— I fought to keep them safe. But it wasn’t enough. I woke up, but I was the only one to wake up. The rest of them are gone. They’re all gone. And I’m all that’s left.”

All that’s left.

He yanked at the collar of the robes he wore, robes that didn’t belong to him, on him, or were even for him. His hand sought the cool comfort of his necklaces, and as much as he wanted to clutch the beads tightly, he didn’t for fear they would crumble to ash in his hands. All that was left to him was so fragile. All that was left of him.

He let out a breath, then another, slowly gathering himself, putting his pieces back together. Making a fool of himself in front of Izuku hadn’t been his best moment. The shaking aftereffects of releasing so much pain left him slightly dazed, but he knew enough to take a third deep breath, to lift his head, to hold it high, to show that he wasn’t weak even if he’d had a moment of weakness.

Izuku was crying.

Big, round, silent tears dripped down his cheeks. When Katsuki noticed, he let out a little sniffle, a little sigh, and squeezed Katsuki’s hand tightly. Katsuki had forgotten the omega was still holding onto him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, then again, “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you who did it.” Katsuki forced his voice to steady, to remain calm. Seeing the omega so upset startled him in unexpected ways. He’d never seen Izuku cry before, had never considered that his pain might upset him.

“I know but. That doesn’t make it any less awful.” Izuku shook his head. “I never thought— nobody ever thought something like this had happened to you. That you weren’t a rogue just a… a survivor.” Something snapped in the omega’s eyes and he nodded, almost mindlessly. “Yes. A survivor. You aren’t a rogue. Just a survivor.”

“Rogue’s a person without a pack. I fit the description,” Katsuki said.

“No. You didn’t abandon anyone, and nobody abandoned you. You aren’t like—” he paused, his eyes catching on something.

Katsuki glanced down, wondering if he’d accidentally torn the robe Toshinori had given him and maybe insulted Izuku by it. He had wrenched the stupid thing open, but it didn’t seem to be torn. At first, he didn’t see anything out of place, until he realized he’d revealed the scars decorating his chest and arm.

Izuku let his hand drop and reached for Katsuki, for his scars, only to stop when Katsuki pulled away. “You… these are from what happened to your pack.”

As much as he’d already said, Katsuki couldn’t put those in words. That yes, the death of his pack had been carved into his flesh. That he’d carried that burden since their fall, since the wounds had failed to kill him.

Izuku didn’t need the explanation. He said nothing more. Before Katsuki really knew what was happening, the omega had moved even closer, then his arms were wrapped around Katsuki’s shoulders, then he was pulling the alpha to him and holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Izuku’s voice tickled his ear, “I’m so sorry. But you’re safe here. I promise. I’ll keep you safe, and you won’t ever have to worry about anything like this happening again. Never again.”

The words shouldn’t have meant anything. Nothing at all. But Katsuki was already so tired, so weak. When Izuku told him he would be safe, he didn’t believe him, not really. He still remembered the way Shoto and his family looked at him, the hiss of metal on leather as Malcus had drawn his sword, the omega’s warning that some might never welcome him to the village.

And yet— and yet—

Katsuki didn’t hug the omega back. It wouldn’t have been proper. His mother would have chided him for such unalpha-like behavior. But he did slump forward into Izuku’s arms, let the omega hold him. Warmth trickled between them, the warmth of their bodies pressed close, the warmth of the tears slipping down Izuku’s cheeks, the warmth of Katsuki’s quiet smile, as he shut his eyes and let himself rest for a moment, just a moment.

- - -

Katsuki asked him to wait with him for a little while longer, just until he had fallen asleep. Then, when the alpha was tucked in Eijiro’s bed, buried under blankets and pillows much like Izuku burrowed into his nest, he rose and left the dwelling.

Shoto was waiting for him. He said nothing, but Izuku could tell by his long, worn expression that he had overheard what Katsuki had told him. The exhaustion and pain Katsuki had been hiding for so long had leaked out of him, and Shoto had taken some of it into himself, just as Izuku had taken some of it. That was what they did as a pack. They took the burdens others could no longer bear, and between them all, they learned how to carry it.

Katsuki’s burden was soul-crushing, bone-wearying, but when Shoto put a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, he felt a little lighter, knowing he wasn’t the only one standing up for the alpha. “You did the right thing,” Shoto said, then almost as an afterthought, “though you usually do.”

“Usually,” Izuku teased, despite how his face was still wet with tears. He cleaned himself up as Shoto watched over him.

When he’d composed himself and taken a few deep breaths, Shoto asked, “What are you going to do now?”

The air punched out of Izuku’s chest. Right. He was going to have to do something about what he’d learned. But what was there to do? What could fix the hurt done to Katsuki?

“I… I guess I’ll tell my father,” he said slowly. “He might know what to do.”

Shoto nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Izuku smiled, knowing he was offering his support in more than just his presence. If asked, he would confirm what Izuku said about Katsuki’s story. Though they both knew that probably wasn’t going to be necessary. Still, it was good to know someone else had heard all Katsuki had said. His was a story no one should bear alone.

They walked in silence toward Toshinori’s dwelling. Izuku wasn’t exactly sure if his father would be there, but he had kept a close eye on his movements through the day. He was quickly coming to the point where he would have to talk to Toshinori about what he’d told Malcus, and he was searching for the perfect moment. A moment that probably wouldn’t come, but he continued to convince himself that he simply had to wait a little longer, just be a little more vigilant.

“Father,” Izuku called outside the dwelling, just before he reached it.

“I’m here,” Toshinori called back, an affirmation and an invitation. Izuku signaled for Shoto to wait a moment, then stepped inside.

His father was sitting alone at the table in the center of his dwelling, reviewing a scroll he’d been writing. There were charcoal sticks strewn about, ash streaked along the table, Toshinori’s fingers stained black. He looked tired, Izuku thought, though after everything that had happened, he couldn’t blame his father.

When Toshinori looked up, it was with a smile that quickly faded. “Izuku?”

Izuku opened his mouth, and felt another tear roll down his cheek. He hadn’t noticed that he’d started crying again.

“What’s wrong?” Toshinori moved as if to stand, something sharp replacing his shock, something that might have been anger.

Izuku collapsed next to his father, hugging him around the waist and burrowing his face into the alpha’s heavy robes. He wanted to explain, but all he managed was a terrible whine, the sound traveling up Toshinori’s body in a wave of shivers.

His father pulled him closer. “There now, my boy,” he said, steady, calm. Just as he always was. “Tell me what’s happened.”

Izuku shut his eyes tight, fighting the swelling emotion in his throat. He took another breath, reminded himself that Shoto was just outside, ready to offer his aid should he be called, and squeezed Toshinori a little tighter.

Then he told his father all that Katsuki had confided in him.

- - -

The gentle rustle of a crowd moving roused Katsuki, but he didn’t lift his head up until he heard a soft bell. The few beams of light that had been casting into the dwelling had darkened, leaving everything cast in a warm dusting of twilight. He’d been sleeping for much longer than he’d anticipated. It was nearing night, which meant everyone was gathering for supper. Katsuki considered whether he wanted to join the others, but remembered that another pack’s envoy was supposed to arrive and this might be his chance to spy them in the crowd.

He pushed himself up, surprised that Eijiro still wasn’t there. When he’d told Katsuki to take his time, it seemed he’d meant it. In the twilight of his sleep, he’d heard Izuku slip out earlier, had heard a few whispered words exchanged just beyond the walls before he’d left. Still, Katsuki cast a glance around, half expecting someone to be watching him from the corner. But there was nothing. They had left him to his rest, just as they had promised.

Strangely, it had been quite a restful sleep as well. Much more restful than even the previous night. He hadn’t noticed how much he’d needed a moment to himself, and what that actually meant. When he’d been wandering as a rogue, he had been painfully alone. There usually wasn’t anyone in the immediate area, and any Katsuki had stumbled upon hadn’t reacted well to his presence. Those days, he would have given a lot more than he wanted to admit just for a smile from a stranger.

The stress of performing for the pack had gotten to him, he could admit, but this was a different kind of alone than he’d been as a rogue. Yes, there was no one in the dwelling with him. But he could hear the rustling of people beyond the walls. Just a few steps away. If he wanted to, he could walk out and see a whole village of people, some of whom didn’t want to kill him. Someone may even grace him with a smile. He wasn’t an outcast anymore. He was among them, and that made a difference.

Katsuki took a deep breath, taking in the now-familiar scents of the pack, the spices all mixing together, the wood scents and flowers, the subtler hints of honey and grass. Maybe it wasn’t what he was used to. But he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He thought only briefly about his conversation with Izuku. When he did, his mind reeled away, the memory too raw, a wound not quite scabbed over. If he pressed it too much, he knew it would bleed. So he only thought about how it had felt nice to hold the omega close, how he had been warm and his scent had been comforting. He thought about how it would be nice to hold the omega close again. Then he let the thought go, knowing it was only a fantasy.

Before leaving, Katsuki did his best to reassemble Eijiro’s bed, stacking up the blankets he’d used and rearranging everything into some semblance of order. He hadn’t touched anything else in the dwelling, but he still checked that everything was in its place, then stepped out to join the crowd.

He hadn’t gone but a couple of steps before he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and a hand landed heavy on his shoulder.

Without having to look, he knew it was Touya. His scent was sharp and potent, washing over Katsuki in a deliberate wave. Touya wanted him to know he was there, his fingertips clenched near Katsuki’s collar. One part of Katsuki wanted to throw him off, spin around and attack him. But if he did, the pack would see him as a threat. They would retaliate against him. No. He stood and he waited to see what Touya would do, even as his entire being tensed, ready for a fight.

Touya leaned closer, until Katsuki felt a breath at his ear, a brush of hair in his. The alpha sighed deeply, then clicked his tongue. “You know,” he said, and Katsuki lifted his lip in a silent snarl, “it’s interesting. Watching how things have unfolded. How the pack’s reacted to you. How you’ve reacted to the pack. At first, I thought you were a spy, wiggling your way in. Thought the moment I turned my back, someone would be dead at your feet. And yet,” the alpha swung his head away, toward Eijiro’s dwelling. Katsuki stifled the urge to follow his gaze, standing still and ready to fight still. If he had to, he would fight Touya. But he wouldn’t be the one to throw the first punch. “Well, let’s just say you’ve surprised me.”

The hand dropped, and Touya stepped back. Katsuki felt him looming behind him still, but he didn’t move to attack. They stood there, evaluating each other, until Touya’s footsteps turned away.

“Nasty scars, those. I know something about scars like that.” He paused, then started walking away. “Watch yourself. Because I’m still watching.”

Katsuki waited until his footsteps had faded before he turned over his shoulder. Touya had slipped into the crowd, but Katsuki could still see the bob of his white hair standing out amongst the others, following them to supper.

He let out a breath, and thought about just going back to bed, but his stomach rumbled and he gave in to the allure of food.

Chapter Text

Izuku knew his father was keeping watch, though he thought he was watching for Shota’s emissary. So he was a little surprised when Toshinori waved someone over, and Izuku glanced up to see it was Katsuki. His heart shuttered, wondering if his father was about to reveal Katsuki’s story to the entire pack. Surely he wouldn’t do that?

But of course not. When Katsuki approached, Toshinori smiled up at him, thanking him for sitting in on the council meeting, requesting him to attend the next, asking if everyone was treating him well. Katsuki said a few words in exchange, keeping a polite front up. His face was nearly unreadable, but Izuku kept searching for something to hold onto under the bravado.

The rest seemed to have done him well; there was a bit more color in his face and less strain around his eyes. Just after Toshinori dismissed him, Katsuki glanced up at Izuku and nodded. Izuku smiled in return, happy to watch the alpha stride confidently back out amongst the pack. Others still watched him warily, but they didn’t look ready to leap into a fight. Small mercies, perhaps.

Katsuki settled with Eijiro and his friends, giving the same nod to Eijiro as the beta waved off what Izuku assumed was a thanks. He leaned in toward the group, and the group toward him.

Izuku glanced over and saw that Shoto hadn’t even looked up from his tea at Katsuki’s approach. The alpha was relaxed and unbothered by his presence for the first time since he’d arrived.

Good. Everything was settling down. At least when it came to Katsuki. Now maybe they could focus on everything else and leave Katsuki to settle in with the pack. Maybe not everyone would be fully comfortable with him, but Izuku was determined to make sure he felt welcome and safe with them. He deserved it after what he’d been through.

Malcus joined them shortly after. He was a loud presence, both literally and figuratively. Izuku heard his arrival as a rumble of cheers and greetings through the pack, as a loud laugh in reply. As he stepped amongst them, Malcus lifted his hand and waved at many, whispering to others as he passed. He even paused to greet Katsuki, who seemed less than enthused by his presence. Undeterred, Malcus sauntered to the head of the pack and bowed low to Toshinori.

“Join us,” the pack alpha said, and Malcus did.

“I’m planning to leave just before dawn. My alpha will want to hear the news as soon as possible,” he said without preamble. Izuku interpreted this as he would not be swayed to stay longer, not even by Toshinori.

To his credit, Toshinori lifted a hand. “And I would not make you stay longer. The sooner Yoroi hears, the better. But it’s also for the better if you reach him to begin with. So take the rest. You are welcome to stay with one of our pack, or here in the hall.”

“Thank you,” Malcus inclined his head, but made no reply. He cast a glance over the crowd. “I don’t see Shota’s emissary.”

“He’ll be here soon enough.” Toshinori took a long sip of tea. It was an invitation to relax, but Malcus simply waited for him to finish. “Have you met Hitoshi before?”

“Briefly. He seems a good sort.” Malcus glanced to Izuku when he said this. No doubt looking for his reaction to Hitoshi. Now that his courting season was imminent, Malcus was searching for who might be his greatest competition.

Clearly Malcus didn’t know Hitoshi enough to realize he wouldn’t be participating in Izuku’s courting season, even if Izuku had wanted him to. He had his eyes set on someone else, and Izuku had no intention of getting in his way. Not that Hitoshi would let him.

“He’s a very good sort,” Izuku replied diplomatically. He felt Shoto smiling next to him. Like Izuku, he knew exactly what Malcus was doing, and that Hitoshi wouldn’t be joining in the ceremony.

Malcus surveyed them both before turning to speak with Inko. She blushed under his attention, as she always had, and it was good to see her enjoying herself. Izuku took one last look at the pack, searching for trouble and finding none, before he turned to his meal.

They had been eating for a little while when the doors opened again and another figure stepped inside.

A hush rippled over the crowd, quickly overtaken by a quiet rumble quite unlike what had happened at Malcus’s arrival. The loudest sounds in the hall were the crackling fire and the steady whisper of softened footfalls.

Toshinori stood to greet their guest. “Hitoshi! Welcome. It’s excellent to see you.”

For a brief moment, Hitoshi hadn’t been looking at the pack alpha. Instead, his gaze had fallen to Eijiro’s group. At first, he was clearly looking for Denki, seeking the blond beta with an almost involuntary reflex, but then his gaze fell on Katsuki. Something akin to distrust and surprise touched him, then Toshinori spoke and he forced his attention upward. He bowed at the alpha’s words.

“May I approach, Alpha?”

“Come, come. Join us.” Toshinori gestured to a spot next to Malcus. Malcus was holding his cup a little too tight, face controlled by a smile. Hitoshi didn’t bother to force a smile, but he did acknowledge both Izuku and Inko with a respectful bow of his head.

“I was sent to convene with you and your council on a warning we received from your scout,” Hitoshi said without taking a seat.

Toshinori nodded gravely. “Indeed. We shall discuss it more once we’ve eaten. Please, sit. You must be tired after such a long journey.”

“Not all that long,” Hitoshi grumbled, but this time he obeyed and took a seat next to Malcus. He exchanged a quiet, somewhat pleasant greeting with Malcus, both envoys sizing each other up.

Hitoshi was rather new to his duty as envoy for his pack, though it had always been expected he would take up such a mantle, at least for a little while. Just as his father, his current pack alpha, had served as scout and messenger years earlier, he intended to serve the same role before stepping into his preordained role as the head beta of his pack. Izuku always felt a pang of sympathy for Hitoshi, and he suspected Hitoshi did for him as well. They were of the same fate, beholden to their packs in every which way.

Without thinking, Izuku looked out over the pack, scanning the crowd, searching for reactions. Most of the pack had not met Hitoshi, only heard whispers of him. Added to the fact that their pack was on somewhat uneven grounds with his pack alpha, Shota, and there was an undercurrent of caution with Hitoshi amongst them. Almost inevitably, Izuku found himself searching for Katsuki, finding him exactly where he had been minutes earlier.

The alpha was glaring up at Hitoshi, barely hidden by drinking from his cup, piercing eyes visible just over the rim. Although he was glaring hard at Hitoshi, there didn’t seem to be any aggression in his expression. More caution, curiosity even, than anything else. Izuku wondered briefly if Katsuki had met others from packs near his old pack, before they were killed, but figured if he had, he would have run to them for help after the massacre.

Then he flinched at the thought, and turned back to his meal, aware that both Malcus and Hitoshi had noticed his moment of weakness.

“What happened to your neck?” Hitoshi asked as he was served a platter of food, piled high. He accepted it without looking away from Izuku.

Malcus narrowed his eyes at Izuku’s neck, perhaps noticing for the first time the marks left over from the rogues’ attack. Either way, he sat back and said nothing, allowing Izuku to laugh off Hitoshi’s question. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

Clearly aware his question had gone unanswered, Hitoshi spent the rest of the dinner watching Izuku, slowly peeling away the walls he put up around himself. Hitoshi was always so good at that. He’d learned it from the best, after all.

“How is your father?” Toshinori asked to dispel some tension.

Hitoshi lifted an eyebrow. “Stubborn. As always. But well otherwise.”

“Does he still go on his long walks?” Malcus asked, and something in his question felt wrong.

It wasn’t a threat, per se, but an acknowledgement of another pack alpha’s questionable behavior. Pack alphas were supposed to remain within the pack. They were the heart of the village. If they left, they risked quieting the very pulse of their pack, running their territory into rot and ruin. Pack alphas didn’t go on walks, except perhaps around the village, and everyone knew Alpha Shota rarely stayed within the bounds of his village on his so-called walks.

Izuku steadied himself, unsure how he would quell tension between two packs that were not his own, holding his breath for how Hitoshi would react, hoping beyond hope he would simply let it go.

When Hitoshi turned to regard Malcus, it was with barely concealed contempt. “Alpha Yoroi, yes?” He asked, and to Malcus’s smile, he added, “Surprised he’s still conscious enough to send brats like you to harass others.”

Malcus smiled deeply. The rest of his body bristled, swelling under his cloak with tightly controlled fury. Izuku thought he saw Malcus reach for his sword, but then his hand slipped out of his cloak to take his tea, drinking deeply from it. This only seemed to calm him in that it forced him to pause, and that was enough for him to take a breath.

“Alpha Yoroi is very well. But I’ll be sure to pass along the sentiment.”

Hitoshi cut a glare toward Malcus and might have sniped something else, but Inko cleared her throat. “Boys,” she chided, “not during supper.”

Somehow, this was all the chastising both needed. Hitoshi inclined his head politely to Inko and Malcus let out a laugh that was only slightly strained. “Of course, good madame! And might I add, the food is excellent, as always.” He raised his cup to Soren, who had been silently cooking in the background, his eyes widening with each jab between envoys. It took him a moment to realize Malcus was talking to him, and he bowed his head in thanks.

Izuku stared at his mother, wondering how she had done that so easily.

The rest of the meal passed in relative quiet, with only polite conversation safely away from anything that could even be perceived as antagonistic. Izuku watched both Malcus and Hitoshi closely, but neither directly acknowledged the other for the rest of the meal.

When he was finished with his food, Hitoshi asked, “Will we meet in council tonight, Alpha Toshinori?”

“We will. A little while longer.” He gestured out toward the pack. “Let them rest. Once things have settled, we will meet by the fire. Then I will tell you all that has happened.”

Hitoshi nodded. “Then may I be excused for the time being?”

“Of course. We will call you when the time is right.”

The beta bowed his head respectfully and rose. Only then did he glance toward Malcus, meeting his gaze for a heartbeat, before turning away. Movement from the head table stirred everyone within the pack, more so when they realized it was Hitoshi who had risen. Still, the beta ignored them all, walking straight to Denki. He leaned in and whispered something to Denki, then both of them got up and left the hall, whispering back and forth to one another. Everyone watched them go. Katsuki glared hard at the spot where Denki had been sitting, then back up as the door closed. He tilted his head toward the head table, and Izuku knew he was trying to listen to them, trying to pick up on what had happened, whether it was scandalous or not.

Izuku cleared his throat. “It’s good to see Hitoshi getting along with Denki so well.”

Malcus heaved out a bitter laugh. “Denki is a strong asset to your pack. I wouldn’t put it past Shota to send his packling to poach him for his own.”

“Let’s not speak too harshly on such things,” Inko replied evenly, quickly. She was smiling in that strained way, when she had to think to keep it up. “There’s nothing wrong with two young betas having a friendship, even if they are from different packs.”

“You have an interesting idea of friendship, madame,” Malcus said, and perhaps on purpose or not, his gaze shifted from Izuku to Shoto. Izuku buried his face in his cup, hoping to give nothing away. “In any case! I hope you won’t hold it against me if I go to bed early tonight and miss your council meeting, Alpha Toshinori. Unless you have anything new to add, I want to get as much rest as I can. I have a long way to travel and Alpha Yoroi is expecting me.”

Toshinori lowered his chin. It might have been mistaken for a nod, but Izuku knew it wasn’t quite. His father appraised Malcus for a heartbeat, two, then said, “Very well.”

“Will you have the rogue join you again?” Malcus added.

“Katsuki. And yes, he will attend. In case Hitoshi has any questions for him.”

“Mm. You will be careful with him, won’t you? You can’t trust a rogue, you know.”

Izuku felt a prickle up his spine and without thinking, he snapped, “Katsuki is here as a guest of my pack. He warned us from the threat that we have in turned warned you of, and he brought with him the other rogues who had hurt us. He is not a savage, and I do trust him.”

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

Malcus said it so plainly. A comment so obvious it seemed almost silly for him to say it. Izuku felt his cheeks warm, his pulse rising to his head.

He took a breath, trying to regain control of his emotions. “He wouldn’t hurt me again.”

“Once an alpha gets a taste of omega blood, he’ll always hunt for more. Maybe that’s why he’s a rogue in the first place.”

His pack is dead, he isn’t a rogue.

The words sprang to Izuku’s tongue tip, to the edge of his teeth, his mouth open and his throat ready to snarl.

Toshinori clapped a hand on the table.

It was a single, piercing sound. Harsh and sharp as a slap across the face. A reprimand without words. Izuku immediately ducked his head in deference to his father and Malcus lowered into a bow.

“Apologies, Alpha. I mean no disrespect to you or to your aeon. I worry for his safety, is all.”

Toshinori had his eyes closed. His face was impressively serene. Izuku knew he was furious under it.

The pack alpha took a breath as well, keeping his hand flat against the table. He’d knocked over a cup, the cold tea within spreading lazily between plates. Soren dared not move to clean it up. Even Inko was holding her breath, her head bowed to her mate.

Slowly, Toshinori lifted his hand, righted the cup. He nodded to Soren, allowed the beta to approach with a rag to clean up the spill. Nobody else dared to move until that was done, until Toshinori had dismissed Soren with a silent wave.

Once the beta had scurried away, the pack alpha spoke again. “Malcus, it is not your duty to protect my son. You’ve overstepped. See that you do not do so again.”

A warm flush rushed to Malcus’s cheeks. He kept his head bowed forward, but his voice rose up, “Apologies, Alpha, but it’s hardly overstepping. I intend to participate in your son’s courting season, and so it is my duty to see to his safety, as is tradition. I would be a poor candidate if I did not look after him.”

Izuku felt his stomach drop. He lifted his head to stop Malcus, to explain, to say something, anything, but the words so eagerly waiting on his tongue disappeared. And it was far too late anyway.

Toshinori growled deeply, the barest hint of teeth shown between his lips. “It is my son’s right and his right alone to announce his courting season and you will not take it upon yourself to act before it is time. You insult me, my son, and yourself with your impertinence.”

“Father,” Izuku tried to say, but Malcus had already looked up at him.

The confusion was too plain to see. A hint of betrayal, as well. Malcus was very good at what he did. He would never act out of turn, not when he knew such things could deeply insult those he was charged with negotiating. And it was not a secret that Malcus was rather fond of their pack, of Izuku particularly. When Malcus looked over at him, barely concealing a layer of hurt, Izuku heard his voice teasing spiteful all over again.

His expression gave Toshinori pause as well. The pack alpha glanced between him and Izuku, searching for something.

It was far too late to make this right. Far too late to explain himself.

Izuku cleared his throat and without looking at Toshinori said, “Later, Father.” To Malcus, he said, “I appreciate your willingness to look after my safety, but Katsuki is not a threat to me. Let this be the last time we speak on this.”

Malcus dipped his head back into a bow. “As you wish, aeon.”

“I’m going to get some rest before the council meeting,” Izuku added, standing before anyone could stop him.

He knew the entire pack followed his movements, even more so than they had Hitoshi. Everyone at the head table watched his back as he hurried down the path to the door. When he passed by Eijiro’s group, Izuku glanced up without thinking, and caught Katsuki’s eyes.

The alpha was glowering.

The obvious answer to why Katsuki was glowering was that he didn’t approve of something that had happened. Their brief meeting through flicking glances was coincidence, both of them searching for a second out of what they sought to escape. The next obvious step would be for one or both of them to look away, letting their gazes slide off one another and continue on with whatever this brief moment let them escape from.

However, that moment of disconnect didn’t come. They stared back at one another for too long for it to be a mistake. When Izuku really considered Katsuki’s expression, he didn’t think the alpha was upset. Rather that he seemed to be thinking, very hard, his face scrunched up in some natural state of grumpy discontent now that he wasn’t paying enough attention to control it.

As their gazes lingered for far too long, Katsuki tilted his head up, his chin jutting up toward the sky. Him trying to take control of the moment, no doubt. As if he had any right to tell Izuku I am in charge with just a tilt of his chin.

Izuku’s lips thinned, ready to peel back over his teeth and growl back at the alpha. He had just defended Katsuki from Malcus and now the alpha had the gall to try to dominate him? What was his problem?

But the expression didn’t match the gesture. Katsuki’s face had relaxed, the hard lines of his grumpiness smoothed over into something touching on serene. His gaze, while still on Izuku, was slightly glazed, just out of focus. His head tilted back exposed the long line of his throat, pale skin stretched over muscle and the bone at his collar.

Izuku paused, really taking in Katsuki, just as Katsuki blinked, understanding flooding his face with color. He ducked his head quickly, the movement jerky and unpracticed. It wasn’t in his nature to bow his head to Izuku, but he corrected the gesture as best he could.

Izuku let his lips relax. He didn’t quite know what to do about this silent exchange of theirs, how the half-lidded look Katsuki had given him, his pale throat bared, had made something tighten in his stomach. All he knew was that everyone was still watching him and he had lingered too long.

Their exchange had felt like minutes, hours, a conversation played out in infinite time. In reality, it had happened over a couple of breaths. Not enough time to be immediately suspicious. But Izuku couldn’t risk someone noticing, someone starting to wonder.

He turned away from Katsuki and hurried out of the hall, trying not to think about the way his stomach was still tied up in knots.

- - -

Izuku didn’t make an appearance at the meeting later, which unsettled everyone. Katsuki watched the way the council swayed in the void of their aeon, saw how quickly they unraveled.

Something had happened at the head table, but he hadn’t quite been able to hear over the buzz of the pack to know specifics. It was clear enough that Malcus had done something to irritate the pack alpha; that hadn’t been missed by a single person in the pack. But beyond that, and the fact that Izuku had seemingly smoothed things over by quickly leaving, Katsuki didn’t know what was going on.

What was clear, was that nearly everyone in the council room was on edge for no particular reason. Toshinori had his hands clenched in his lap and Inko sat beside him, closer than usual, casting worried glances up at him. She was searching for something, but only seemed to find what she feared she’d see, her face slowly draining of color the more she looked up at her mate. Across the fire from them, Shoto’s family was more on edge than ever. Enji’s fires were taller, hotter, so much so that Tenna and her sons had moved away from him and Mirai continually glared at him, as if just his ire alone could quell the flames. Shoto stared morosely into the fire and Touya had his eyes closed. A line between his brows indicated a shallow tension, just starting to boil. Tenna and her sons were sitting too straight, too formally, entirely too stiff to be comfortable yet none of them seemed to notice. Once again, only the old beta was relaxed, swathed in a yellowing blanket with his eyes shut as if he were sleeping. Katsuki could tell by his focused breathing that he was still awake, though he doubted anyone else in the room was paying enough attention to notice.

Sitting where Malcus had been only hours earlier was one very perplexed purple haired beta. The tension in the room hadn’t been missed, and it was clear he was trying to parse out whether the tension was directed toward him. By the way he kept a close eye on Enji and his sons, he seemed to think it was him everyone was displeased with, but he very clearly couldn’t decide why.

Katsuki’s impression of the beta was much different from his impressions of Malcus. Where Malcus had been a showman, a warrior with a flair for holding and using the attentions of others, the beta sunk low where he sat, making himself as small as possible. It would be easy to assume he was nervous, especially with how tense everyone was acting, but Katsuki didn’t think that was it. The beta was making himself small and unobtrusive, easy to pass over, to miss. He was more like a cat sitting in the corner of the room, making itself unknown until the precise moment it decided it needed something. This messenger was much the same.

A scout, Katsuki decided. He was less messenger, less warrior even, than he was a scout. He was observant and quiet, and Katsuki had no doubt that if allowed, he would simply fade into the shadows, fade from the forefront of people’s minds, and let them act as they wished, observing from his perch. Yoroi had sent Malcus to make a scene, so to speak, to capture the attention of Toshinori and his pack. Whoever had sent the beta had a different intention in mind.

There was something else to the beta, of course, something Katsuki still hadn’t quite puzzled out. After being dismissed by Toshinori earlier, he’d gone straight to that dunce-headed blond beta that hung around Eijiro, whispered something to him, and promptly stolen him away. No one in their little group had blinked twice at this, and while Katsuki had wanted to ask about it, he’d been more interested in watching the head table’s reaction. No one there had reacted either, so it must have been an acceptable thing, but Katsuki still didn’t quite know what to make of it.

Overall, he didn’t think he liked the beta, but he didn’t know if he disliked him either. Mostly he simply distrusted him, which wasn’t much different from most of the people he met.

They had waited a while after gathering before Toshinori started the meeting, and they went on without Izuku. The scout was introduced as Hitoshi, son of another pack leader. Although the others treated him with respect, they didn’t treat him with the same enthusiasm as they had Maclus. He wasn’t their friend. He was an ally, perhaps, but there was a clear line after that. Hitoshi kept a respectful distance while still conforming to Toshinori’s wishes. He wasn’t stupid, but he was independent and he made sure everyone knew it.

The meeting was short, to the point. Where Malcus had asked questions and dug deeper into what was being told to him, Hitoshi simply listened and nodded, then thanked Toshinori for the information. Not for a second did Katsuki think Hitoshi believed everything the pack alpha had said, or at least that it was everything he knew, but there was an understanding in his simple deference. He was not close enough to the pack alpha, nor were the ties between their packs strong enough, for him to ask questions. Instead, as before, Hitoshi was more content to sit back and let the conversation happen around him, picking up on the small details that the council spat between each other, the pauses and the glances thrown his way before the conversation veered in a different direction. He would report what Toshinori had told him to his alpha, but he would also report what hadn’t been said.

If nothing else, Katsuki developed a grudging respect for Hitoshi as the meeting went on. He was clever in a frightening way. Malcus outwardly boasted about his ties to the pack, his knowledge of it and how he was integrated with the pack even as he served his own. Hitoshi gave nothing away, but he was listening close enough that Katsuki suspected he knew just as much if not more than Malcus. Given the choice of opponents, Katsuki would rather face Malcus. At least he was a warrior, assumably with some honor in his blood. Meanwhile, he wouldn’t put it past Hitoshi to fight underhanded. Whatever got the job done, he would do it. Katsuki didn’t condemn him for this attitude, he just didn’t want to have to face it head on. He, too, understood that sometimes you had to play dirty to win, else you could lose everything.

If he’d had a little less honor and a little more dirt in his veins, maybe he wouldn’t be in that council room, a rogue with nothing left of his home but the scars torn into his flesh.

The meeting ended without much more to say. Hitoshi slipped away, waving off Toshinori’s offer of a place to sleep in the pack hall. No doubt he was planning to spend the night with Denki. Once he was gone, Inko whispered something about going to check on her son and slipped out too. Katsuki opened his mouth to ask to be dismissed, but Toshinori lifted a hand, stilling his request. He eyed the pack alpha, but saw nothing immediately alarming, and so remained silent and wary, unsure what to expect.

The other council members lingered only a little while longer, muttering back and forth to each other before asking to be dismissed for the night. One by one, the council room emptied, until it was just Toshinori and Katsuki.

The last to leave was Touya, who cast a suspicious eye toward Katsuki before standing to leave, without asking permission. When he reached the door, Toshinori called out to him.

“If Soren is still up, have him bring tea.”

Touya narrowed his eyes and Katsuki felt a flicker of unease shoot through him. He held his tongue just a bit longer as Touya grunted in reply and left them alone.

Toshinori wasted no time. “Izuku told me about your pack.”

The unease thinned into something that tasted bitter on his tongue. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he still felt a stab of betrayal that the omega had told anyone what he’d confided in him. Still, he supposed Izuku had had no choice. Toshinori was pack alpha. It was his right to know all.

“I suppose you have questions, then,” Katsuki grumbled.

Toshinori’s eyes caught the fire, flickered with a harsh light. “Do you know who attacked you?”

“No.” It was the truth. A bitterly harsh truth. Katsuki swallowed, trying to rid himself of the taste. “It was hard to see during the attack. I didn’t really care at the time who they were, just that they were killing us. After, when I recovered, I went looking, but I never found anything.”

Toshinori nodded once, a movement as sharp as the crack of wood breaking in the fire. He paused long enough for Soren to arrive, his timing impeccable. It occurred to Katsuki that this must not have been the first time Toshinori had cornered someone with late night tea, that he and Soren had played this time and time again. He couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse about facing the alpha in that moment.

Soren placed the tea between them, but before he could serve them, Toshinori dismissed him with a quiet word.

The beta nodded, then turned to Katsuki. “I’ll set up your mat and blankets in the dining hall.”

Katsuki paused, taken aback. “I can handle it.”

Soren smiled. “Don’t worry. Have a good rest tonight.” To Toshinori, he bowed and said, “Good night, Alpha.”

“Rest well,” Toshinori said, waiting as the beta stood and left. Once they were again alone, the alpha leaned forward and poured their tea. He offered Katsuki the first cup. “To relax. It’ll help you sleep tonight.”

And maybe make me more willing to talk? Katsuki considered the liquid, a soft green color, steam wafting off it. He watched as Toshinori poured his cup and set it aside and took the opportunity to do the same.

“I hope you know that Izuku didn’t mean to upset you by telling me.”

“I’m not upset,” Katsuki growled, though he knew that didn’t quite help his case.

Toshinori thankfully didn’t comment on it, “The news unsettled him, and I think he needed to tell someone. He’s not used to hearing such… terrible things. We have good relations with our neighbors, more or less, and even if we didn’t, he couldn’t fathom any of them wanting to kill all of us, whether they would or not.”

“And would they?” Katsuki watched the alpha’s face. Watched for signs of deceit, mistrust.

Toshinori showed neither, but he didn’t give much else away either. “Not all of us. A massacre to the scale you describe… I’ve never heard of such destruction.”

Katsuki thought about asking for more, but knew now wasn’t the time. Perhaps later, if he gained the alpha’s trust more, but it would only be suspicious for him to continue such line of questioning.

Luckily, he didn’t have to think of a better question to fill the space, as Toshinori went on, “Do you think this rogue pack had anything to do with your pack’s destruction?”

The words strung together made a sentence, a question, but they bunched up together in Katsuki’s head, a stream dammed by a fallen branch. He tried to untangle them, to find something within them, but all he could really think was: What if they did?

He’d never considered that Alpha would have anything to do with his pack. Why would he? But then again, why would anyone want to kill his entire pack? Toshinori was right. Such blatant horror was unheard of, even out on the plains where Katsuki had grown up. Perhaps if resources had been scarce he could understand, but there had always been enough if you knew how and where to look. But even then. Omegas had been slaughtered. Alphas not even old enough to have grown their teeth in. Pups. No threats to a rival pack.

But Alpha? Was Alpha insane enough?

Katsuki struggled with the thought, but it slowly came undone as the initial shock of it wore off. Jest’s presence proved that Alpha wasn’t simply mindless. The beta moved with too much purpose, too careful and conniving, for Alpha to be the one to simply wipe out a pack. He’d sent rogues to do his dirty work, after all. And when Katsuki thought about it, while Alpha’s pack would be able to do some damage if they had carried out the attack, they wouldn’t have been able to wipe out Katsuki’s entire pack, even taken off guard. All of his pack had been warriors to some degree, able to fend off the wild animals that sometimes roamed into their village, and the attackers had been more frightening than a few mangy rogues.

No, what had happened to them had been something else.

“It wasn’t Alpha,” Katsuki paused, “not directly anyway.”

“Not directly?”

“His pack wouldn’t have been able to do it. But I don’t know any pack who would have wanted us dead that badly. Unless someone was telling them something they didn’t like hearing.” He left the implication where it was. After all, he had no proof. And, if he really wanted to think about it, it was highly unlikely Alpha had been involved at all.

Toshinori seemed to realize he had nothing more to say. He picked up his tea and drank, clearly waited for Katsuki to do the same.

Katsuki didn’t move. “How many other packs are there in the region?”

“Four. You’ve met two of their messengers, and I mentioned the third to Malcus. They are the farthest from our grounds, so we do not have much interaction with them beyond what is necessary. The fourth is the only one to our south. Tenna will leave in the morning to fetch their team.”

“Team?” Something about the way Toshinori said it didn’t sit well with him. Malcus and Hitoshi had come on their own. It had only taken one person, Malcus, to get messages to two different packs. Why would this pack need a team to carry a message?

“Yes. Their leader is known to take in rogues from time to time. They may want to take in the rogue you brought with you.”

Katsuki was silent. He told himself to breathe, but it was difficult to do so. In the silence, Toshinori drank his tea.

“You can go with them, if you’d like. Their leader is a good man. Strict, but wise. I think he would be more than happy to take you in.”

“Are you asking me to leave, Alpha?”

Toshinori paused, a sudden stop in his movement, the breath between a drop landing in a lake and the ripple casting outward.

The pack alpha drank his tea.

“You may never be fully welcome here for what you were involved with.” He spoke plainly, and truly. Katsuki had heard it before, had seen it. How the pack shied away from him just as they kept watch of him, moving to ensure there was always space between them and him. “You might find more peace in another pack.” He drank his tea again, no doubt hoping Katsuki would use the silence to speak. When he didn’t, Toshinori reached across, picked up Katsuki’s mug and handed it to him, gesturing for him to drink. “If nothing else, you should speak to his team. They will listen to you. Maybe you’ll find something you’re looking for with them.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything. He let the mug go cold and undrunk in his hands.

Eventually, Toshinori said that he was going to bed, to take his time and drink his tea, that he was welcome to stay in that space for a little while longer. But when the alpha had left, Katsuki cast the undrunk tea into the fire and watched how it spat back at him.

Chapter Text

Izuku knew it was his mother before she spoke. He heard her soft footsteps, the small shuffle of cloth along her legs, the same whispers that had trailed through his childhood.

“Come in,” he called, and she carefully stepped into his dwelling.

He was seated at his table, incense burning a thread of smoke into the air around him. His dwelling smelled of spice and comfort, and he’d been too warm to even think about leaving. Too warm to face the cold, betrayed stare of his father. The moment he’d realized he’d been deceived by his own son was seared into his mind, and the ember burning in front of him was all that kept that terrible image away. The fire was burning a hole through his vision, blotting out the terrible sadness in his eyes. Izuku breathed in deeply, and caught the comforting scents of his mother, woven forever with the spiced scent of his father. He closed his eyes and breathed in again as she took a seat next to him.

She didn’t speak. First, she placed a hand on his shoulder, then ran it down his back. She traced little circles across his shoulders, placed her free hand in his and squeezed.

“Sweetheart,” she said, because they were alone and it was the name she called him when he was at his most vulnerable. She hadn’t even called him that when he’d returned to the village after the Moon. “What happened?”

Izuku sighed and opened his eyes, facing the red point of the incense. He reached across the table and pinched it out between two fingers, relishing the burn. “I made a choice. I’m doing what’s right for the village.”

“What do you mean?” She spoke lower than he was, but he couldn’t quite match her.

“I mean, this was going to have to happen eventually, and now at least I can do this in a way that protects the pack.” His voice sounded so loud. He wasn’t shouting, he didn’t think, but he may as well have been. “If I announce my courting season, then the other packs will have to send their candidates to the village. They’ll have to volunteer to help us. Even if it’s just so they can claim they’re the best option to protect me.” He hated the words even as he said them. His knife was heavy at his waist. A proven weapon, some of the alphas might call it now. A dead man’s blood had been spilled with it.

A man who felt like a killer had given it back to him. Izuku wondered what the alphas would call a blade like that.

“Sweetheart,” she said again, “this shouldn’t be why you’d do something like that.”

“Why not? It makes the most sense. It protects the pack.” He shrugged away from his mother’s touch, felt her recoil when he pushed himself away from the table. “You were always asking when I was going to announce. Always asking when my season would be. You should be happy.”

She didn’t look happy. She looked on the verge of tears. “This is never what I wanted for you.”

Izuku bit back on a snarl. He knew he was angry, and he had a vague notion why he was angry. Mostly, he knew he wasn’t angry because of his mother. He was angry with himself, with the situation, with the thought of what would come next. His father had always told him to examine where his anger came from. Izuku didn’t want to think about where his anger came from, because he knew where it would lead and he couldn’t afford to show fear now. Not when everything was so precarious.

“Did Hitoshi agree to send word to his alpha?” He asked.

Inko smiled. “Later. Please sit down.”

“He agreed to do it later?”

“Not right now. Please talk to me?”

“What more is there to say?”

Her lip quivered. “Is this… really what you want?”

Izuku stared into the void circle left in his vision.

Then the beads rattled over the entrance to his dwelling, and Toshinori appeared. He didn’t look betrayed anymore. Just tired.

The alpha didn’t ask to be invited in, simply taking a seat next to his mate. “We should talk.”

Izuku closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, spreading his fingers up and over the ridge of his brow. His head was starting to ache.

“You told Malcus that you intended your courting season to start soon. Why?”

“Because I do.”

Toshinori took a deep breath. He was very still and very quiet for a long moment. Izuku didn’t look at his father straight on, nor his mother. The void from the ember was clearing up, until he had nothing to stare into except his father’s hard glare.

“Do you love someone?”

At first, Izuku didn’t think he’d heard his father correctly. “What?”

“Do you love someone?”

When he realized he had heard correctly, he looked away again. “What does that matter?”

Toshinori sighed. It was a long, low sound, close to a groan. He, too, reached up and rubbed at a spot above his eye, where his own headache might be starting. Inko placed a hand on her mate’s knee, and something silent passed between them. They didn’t even have to look at each other for it, but Izuku felt it nonetheless, a few silent words, an unspoken agreement, then Toshinori sat back and Inko reached for Izuku.

Izuku reached back without thinking, wanting to feel his mother’s touch, startled by how cold her hands were. He pressed her palm between both of his hands and she laughed quietly.

“There you go again. Always looking out for us.”

Izuku didn’t quite know what to say to that, especially when his mother gently unwound her hand from his grip and guided his hand up until it rested over his own heart. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, the rush of life through him. She kept his hand pressed there, her palm over his.

“We knew it wasn’t fair to you, that you had to become the aeon so young,” she said.

Izuku tilted his head toward her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you were too young for such a responsibility to be left on you. And we tried very hard to keep you from the duties of the aeon. But the pack was in mourning, and they needed you. They came to you for comfort, and you happily answered them.” She smiled, lifted her hand from his to cup his cheek. “You’ve worked so hard for the rest of us. And we knew that wasn’t fair to you.”

Fair. The word caught in Izuku’s head. He couldn’t stop thinking it.

Fair, fair, fair, fair.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “what’s fair or not, I mean. I’m the aeon. I have my duties to the pack. I have to do this.”

“Sweetheart.” This time, Inko sounded a little desperate. She cupped his face in both her hands, her palms still cold, her fingers tucked behind his ears. She was holding him a little tighter than she realized, he thought. Something was misting in her eyes, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “Don’t you see, the pack only wants to see you happy.”

“I know,” Izuku said. “I make sure to be happy when I’m around the pack.”

Even as he spoke, Inko shook her head. “No. They want you to actually be happy. Not to pretend.”

Izuku closed his mouth. He didn’t understand. Not at all.

His mother seemed to realize it, and she smiled so very sadly, tears welling into droplets on her eyelashes. “Oh, sweetheart.” She sounded like she was mourning something, but Izuku couldn’t possibly understand what.

His father moved close then, placing a hand on Inko’s back as she drew away from her son, as she clutched her heart as if to keep it from falling to pieces. Her smile was wavering. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Izuku reached for her, knowing he had to do something to help her, but paused when Toshinori cleared his throat.

“I won’t stop you from announcing your courting season, if you feel you must. But I will give you this, my son.” He said son a little too tenderly. A little too much like he was trying to convince Izuku, or himself, that he meant it. “If at the end of it, you don’t find yourself in love with anyone, then don’t announce a mate. I will support you through it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Izuku said immediately, “if I did that, it would cause an uproar in all the packs. Not just ours.”

Toshinori shook his head. “I don’t care. If you really want to do this, then only do it for yourself. Not for us. And if at the end, there isn’t someone for you, then don’t settle. Don’t choose the best for the pack. Choose the best for yourself. And whatever your choice, so long as it is your heart that chooses, then the pack will support you.”

Izuku opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, words failing to rise to his tongue. He had never considered not choosing a mate after his courting season because that simply wasn’t how it was done. A courting season ended with a mating. That was the obvious conclusion to that ceremony. Sure, on rare occasions he’d heard of omegas simply choosing to keep to themselves, but none of them were the aeon. None of them had the pack to consider.

He wasn’t just choosing a mate. He was choosing a new pack alpha. A new head beta. He was choosing for the pack.

Somehow, his father seemed to read the thought right from his mind. “Izuku, do you think I chose your mother just because I knew you would be the next aeon?”

Izuku blinked. He’d never thought about that. He knew his father loved his mother, loved him despite not being his sire. Toshinori had known Izuku’s sire, of course, most of the pack had, though they didn’t talk about him much. Izuku had never been told the full story of what happened to him, though he had gleamed that he’d left the village very suddenly one day. After that, the story conflicted, either claiming his father had been found dead on the bank of the river a few days later or that he’d simply run off and become a rogue. Either way, he had been gone before Izuku could ever form a coherent memory of his father. Instead, Toshinori had always taken that place in his life. And never once had he questioned if that was solely because he, as the only male omega in the pack, was destined to become the next aeon.

But now, he wondered.

He hesitated long enough that Toshinori’s expression fell. “Izuku, that was never my reasoning. Never. I took you in because I love your mother and I love you. I wanted you to be part of my family. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Izuku said quickly, not wanting to disappoint his father again. He struggled a little with this new information, or perhaps information he’d always known but never bothered to examine. Surely his being the next aeon had drawn Toshinori to his mother, then they had fallen in love? Right? But did that make their love any less real for it?

He chewed on the thought, bitter as it was. “I… I still think I should do this. My courting season, I mean. It will bring warriors to the pack. And we need the help.”

Toshinori sighed. “I think it would help less than you think it would. Once the packs hear there is a threat out there, they might not be willing to send very many to attend your courting season. But maybe that’s what you really want?” At first Izuku thought he was accusing him, but then he noticed the smile on his father’s face. “Sleep on it, all right? Even though you’ve informed Malcus already, we can always tell Yoroi that we are postponing due to the rogue threat. We can buy as much time as you need, all right?”

It didn’t feel that simple, but Izuku nodded. “All right.”

Toshinori nodded as well, and the silence that laid between them grew too still and too deep far too quickly. It became clear neither of them were completely done speaking, but they also didn’t quite know what to say. Their thoughts were less words and more emotions, Izuku’s driven by the desperate need to see his people safe, and knowing that through a good mate he could ensure their future. But what words could he use to tell his father he was okay with that arrangement? That he’d always known this would be the end for him?

Toshinori just stared at Izuku, the light drained from his eyes, his body small and slim in the quiet.

It was Inko who moved first. Although she didn’t speak, she did place a hand on her mate’s knee, and when he looked at her, some spark returned to his eyes. He smiled at her, and her at him. Izuku thought about what his father had said about mating his mother not just because of him, and whether that was true or not, but he saw the clear love between them now. So maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe there was hope for him as well, to make a good match and be as happy with his mate as his mother and father were.

Having regained some of his spirit, Toshinori lifted his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. He paused there a touch too long for it to feel natural, so when he spoke, Izuku felt just a bit on edge still.

“Well. If you insist on announcing your courting season, I suppose I should ask a few questions so I can help curate a good group of suitors for you.”

Izuku listened to what his father said. For some reason, his mind refused to really process the words. Until, all at once, he understood what his father was saying, and his face flashed so hot he thought steam might come out his ears. This was not the conversation he wanted to have on the heels of what they had been talking about, after everything else that had happened that day.

Still, he didn’t think he could deny the request. “O…kay?”

“Toshinori,” Inko whispered, a desperate edge to her voice.

Toshinori shifted, clearly as uncomfortable as everyone else, but he continued, “To that end, what qualities would you prefer for your future mate?”

Izuku wondered if it was better he simply die from embarrassment right then and there. “Uh….”

“Do you prefer alphas? Betas? Omegas? It would be unusual, but if you requested it, I’d have the finest omegas sent from the other packs.”

“Toshinori!” Inko shrieked. Izuku felt dizzy, his father’s words swirling around him.

Toshinori seemed to realize everyone’s discomfort but he simply spoke a little faster, as if trying to get it all out before someone exploded, “Do you have… uh, physical qualities you’d prefer? Do you want feminine suitors? Masculine? Or do you not have a preference? Do you want a strong warrior type, or more scholarly? Or, uh, anything else—”

“You know what!” Izuku hadn’t meant to shout it, but both his parents flinched back when he spoke. “I think those are great questions! Questions I should consider if I’m really going to have my courting seasons, so why I don’t think about it a little!” He kept shouting, despite silently begging himself to just be quiet.

“Uh, right.” Toshinori didn’t fight against the dismissal. He seemed more than relieved to have an excuse out of the conversation, which seemed absurd to Izuku, seeing as he had brought it up in the first place. “It is my duty, as you know, as your alpha to ensure proper suitors are brought to attend to you. So, uh, let me know when you’ve thought about it.”

“Yes! I will! Okay, thank you!” He was still shouting. Then he realized he’d just dismissed his parents outright and they were still sitting there, staring at him, and he was staring back and there had never been a more awkward, embarrassing moment in his life, which was truly remarkable.

As always, his mother saved him. She took Toshinori’s hand and gently pulled him to his feet. “It’s late. We’ll talk more later.” Izuku was thankful she didn’t give an exact time. Somehow that gave the possibility of the entire conversation simply dropping from memory and existence, never to reappear again.

“Y-yes.” Toshinori stood as well, then cleared his throat. “Will you be all right by yourself tonight?”

“Yes! Completely fine!”

“Very well. Then. Good night.”

“Good night!”

That should have been the end of it. But Toshinori lingered. An aching, painful kind of linger. Grasping for something to say, to do, but Izuku didn’t know what he could possibly want.

In the end, Toshinori said, “I love you. I hope you know that.”

The embarrassment that had so consumed him left Izuku with a breath. In his desperation to be done with the conversation, he’d forgotten where they had started: with him as aeon, and his father’s choice to marry his mother. There were still questions about Toshinori’s choices with him and Inko. But there was one certainty that Izuku didn’t need to think about.

“I know,” he said, and he meant it, “and I love you too.”

Relief washed through Toshinori, color returning to his face and his body dropping into a more relaxed, familiar position. He still held himself up, but he was more open, more liable to swing his arms wide in welcome. That was the pack alpha Izuku knew best. It was good to see how quickly he could fall back into it, how even after the most tiresome, embarrassing, terrifying events Izuku could possibly imagine.

There was hope in how Toshinori returned so easily to himself, hope in the resilience in front of him. Yes, there was trouble. But it had not dulled his pack alpha. It had not shaken his father.

“Good,” Toshinori said. “Sleep well, then. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Always,” Izuku replied easily, smiling when his mother approached.

She cupped his face in her hands again and leaned forward to nuzzle her face against his. She was purring quietly, only enough for Izuku to feel the tremors at her touch. He hummed in reply, dipping his head until he could nuzzle into her chest, against her heart. He loved the quiet sounds of her heartbeat, the thumping of it under his ear.

“I love you, sweetheart,” she said.

“I love you too.”

She drew away and Izuku let her go, but as soon as they had gone and his dwelling was empty, the cold of the night filled the place where they had sat.

The doubts and fears and embarrassment came back, until Izuku gave up trying to pretend he was feeling okay and slipped into his nest, burying himself under as much weight and warmth as he could. Nestled safely, he closed his eyes and thought about all that had happened, needing to catalog the most important for what would come next: his courting season, continued negotiations with the pack about the rogues, the threat of the rogue pack.

Instead, his thoughts continually slipped back to what his father had asked, distracting him so thoroughly that he started hearing his father’s questions from the tired mouths of council members.

He sighed and turned his full attention to them.

The first thought he accepted was that he had never given much thought as to what he would, personally, want in a mate. Instead, he had always categorized such things by what would be best for the pack. An alpha had to be wise and slow to temper, but also strong enough to protect the pack when needed. A beta needed to be effervescent and communicable, but steady enough to hold their ground against the more aggressive personalities in the pack. He’d never given any consideration to an omega mate because he was the aeon and there was no need for another.

But when he sat back and thought about it, he realized he wouldn’t mind having an omega by his side, in his nest, sharing meals with him. He picked through this thought, as much as he wanted to dismiss it. The pack didn’t need another omega. But… what about the thought was comforting to him?

He wasn’t sure. When he thought about having an alpha or beta with him, his feelings were similar. It would be nice to have a fun partner as a beta would most likely bring, but it would also be nice to have a strong, steady presence such as an alpha would be. He wasn’t drawn to any one thought, and something about that made him deeply uncomfortable.

Instead, he turned his thoughts to what he wanted in a friend. What did he like about his friends? Then he realized he had scant few friends he could imagine, and scowled a little deeper. Shoto came to mind, but there was something different with Shoto. They had been together so long, had grown up and around each other, intertwined as roots of sibling trees. Izuku hadn’t necessarily chosen to be Shoto’s friend, but he was happy for the honor of having him.

So what was he really looking for?

Izuku set his jaw, trying to think. He wrestled with the idea for a long while, unable to think of anything that made him feel any different about mates and what he would like from one. When he thought about mates, he only thought about what they would do for the pack.

With a sigh, he realized his inadequacy at thinking of such things. It was useless losing sleep over it. Besides, even if he had come to some conclusion on what he wanted from a mate, he didn’t think he was brave enough to tell his father.

So he closed his eyes, letting the thoughts slip through his mind.

As they did, another though rose, unbidden, and touch lingering a breath too long, and perhaps several breaths too short. A pale throat, a lifted chin, a half-lidded gaze. Something behind those eyes. Izuku leaned a little closer to try to find what. Then he heard a low voice growl.

“Shula,” they said, edged with teeth, with a challenge.

He bared his teeth in reply, meeting that challenge, though he felt a smile around his teeth. Challenge me, he said, and he felt a rush through his body at the thought.

Then, with a jerk, he realized how hot his body was and how his cheeks were flushed and his breathing was a little harder than it had been before. He pressed his palms to his face.

Well. He took a breath to steady himself. Definitely not telling my father about this.

But he did close his eyes and held onto the thought: Challenge me.

It would be nice, he let himself think, to have someone who wasn’t afraid of breaking him. Someone who would push him and pull him and urge him onward. Someone who would dare to stand in front of him and demand of him more, but not like the pack did. Someone who wanted more of him, not of the aeon he was supposed to be. And, maybe, it would be nice to have a bit of a struggle with someone who might actually fight back, especially if their tumbling landed them in bed.

Yes, that would be nice, he concluded, and hoped that was the end of such feverish thoughts.

Chapter Text

Malcus was waiting for him in the dining hall.

Katsuki didn’t want to think that the warrior had purposefully stayed up so late just for the chance to face him, but it was the only conclusion that made sense. He was sat on a bed of mats and blankets on the opposite side of the fire from a second, more thickly laid nest of bedding, smoking from a pipe. His face was flushed from the heat and his smoke. When Katsuki stepped through the entrance and the door shut behind him, Malcus blew smoke from his mouth and let the pipe rest at his knees. He didn’t acknowledge Katsuki at first, not until Katsuki started making his way across the hall to his bed.

Then, the warrior opened his eyes. “Fine evening, isn’t it?”

Katsuki resolved himself to a sleepless night, but sat on his bed as if he wasn’t bothered. “A late evening, you mean,” he said, hoping that would be the end of it.

Malcus chuckled. “I heard Alpha Toshinori has called for the rogue cleanup team. Seems he wants you out.”

“They’re coming for the other rogue I brought with me.”

“Are they?”

Katsuki thought about laying down and turning his back to Malcus, but didn’t want to expose himself to attack. He faced the warrior with the fire burning between them. There was some comfort in knowing Malcus would have to move around the fire to get to him, buying him some time should he decide to attack.

When he said nothing, Malcus switched tactics, “It seems you’ve convinced Aeon Izuku of your benevolence, or at least your temperance.” Katsuki felt his lip curl toward a snarl, watched as Malcus’s expression cooled. A small victory to the warrior, then. “He thinks you pose no danger to this pack. Quite a strange thing, seeing as you’re the one who hurt him to begin with.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Katsuki growled, “and I won’t explain what Izuku does or doesn’t think. You can ask him that yourself, if you’re as close to him as you claim to be.”

“That’s not what I claim. I simply know the aeon quite well, and I know that he trusts you when he very clearly shouldn’t.” Malcus mulled over his own words silently, bringing his pipe back to his lips. If nothing else, this signaled to Katsuki that he probably wouldn’t outright attack him quite yet, and he let himself glance around the room.

There was no one with them, just the two of them and the fire between them. He hadn’t seen an alpha guarding the entrance either, as they had previously. The pack had settled and were resting and that left just the two of them to finish whatever was happening in that hall. And yet, Katsuki knew very well that whatever happened that night would echo beyond those walls. Depending on what he did, Malcus would tell everyone, far and wide. At the very least he would report back to his own pack about the dangerous rogue Toshinori had allowed sleep amongst his pack, and at the worst he’d go to Toshinori with proof of just how much of a threat he was to the pack.

Katsuki realized, quite suddenly, that while he had never wanted Toshinori to see him as a threat, he also didn’t want others to think the pack alpha weak for taking him in. Toshinori had shown him great grace and kindness by allowing him to stay. Katsuki recognized that. Not many would have even entertained the thought of letting him stay, especially after what had happened to his son. And yes, perhaps Toshinori was expecting him to leave to join this other pack, but he had let Katsuki stay for even a short period. He did not want the pack alpha to regret that, and he did not want anyone to see him as weak for doing so.

To Malcus, he scoffed. “What was all that about getting to prove myself? You want to judge me? Fine. But when I prove you wrong, we’ll see if you're big enough to admit that to my face.”

“You’ve proven yourself for now as being clearly dangerous. The one point we have is you attacked Aeon Izuku. And that was a grave mistake.”

Katsuki sighed. He realized it didn’t matter what he said. Malcus would think what he would, would go back to his pack alpha and say what he would. There was nothing Katsuki could say or do between now and then to change his mind.

Fine.

If there was no point, he wasn’t going to play the game.

So he bared his teeth and grinned viciously. “You know, he’s a tough omega. Lot stronger than most people I’ve met.”

Malcus paused, his pipe still raised to his lips, his attention pinpointed to Katsuki. Katsuki shrugged off his glare. “I regret following Alpha’s orders, yes, but facing off again Izuku was thrilling. Not many I’ve met before have been able to stand up to me, but he’s one of them. That’s quite admirable.”

“You’re bragging about attacking a pack’s aeon?” Malcus didn’t sound completely surprised.

Katsuki let out a hiss. “If you’re not going to listen, then I won’t waste my breath talking. Izuku was fearless and powerful and in a one-on-one fight, I don’t actually know if I would have won. Maybe at first, but something tells me he would have figured out a way to win in the end. Clever little thing.” He snarled the last few words, and smiled a little wider when he did. “You sit here and cast judgment on me for fighting him, but I wonder, would you do the same if he’d been any other warrior?”

“Aeon Izuku is not any other warrior.” Malcus snarled when he spoke. Katsuki relished the way the warrior’s teeth flashed in the fire, the fury in his eyes. A small victory, perhaps, getting Malcus to reveal his true feelings, but one he would take.

“Maybe. But he’s not weak. And I’m sick of you treating him that way.” Katsuki bared his teeth. “I’d be proud to lose to the likes of him in a fight. But something tells me you wouldn’t be. And that’s pathetic.”

“This is not about him being strong or weak. This is about your audacity to attack a pack’s aeon.” Malcus’s voice rose, just a little. Enough that Katsuki smirked in reply. “Aeon Izuku is the soul of this pack. Any damage done to him is damage done to the entire pack. And I will not let you hurt this pack. It is my duty to uphold the stability of this region for my own pack’s sake. And that starts here.”

Katsuki paused. Let Malcus think he’d won something, even let the warrior realize how upset he’d gotten, bring himself back under control by focusing on his pipe. Smoke billowed up around him before Katsuki spoke again, “I wonder what everyone here would think if they found out you think them so weak that they need you and your pack to defend them.”

This time, it was Malcus who paused. The smoke trailed around him, but slowly ebbed away as he sat there, contemplating what Katsuki had said, what he would say next.

When the smoke had all but dissipated, Malcus shook his head. “Say what you will. You’re a rogue. An outsider. You know nothing of this pack, my pack, or me.”

“I know enough.”

Malcus scoffed, then paused when Katsuki stood. “Where are you going?”

Katsuki turned and walked away, leaving Malcus smoking by the fire. “I think you’ll understand if I don’t want to close my eyes around someone like you.”

Malcus didn’t call him back, didn’t lash out at him with one last jab. He let Katsuki walk away, perhaps thinking he’d won their little disagreement again. Truth be told, Katsuki wanted to fight, but he was too tired and he knew it would change nothing. Malcus also wanted a fight, but for a very different reason. He wanted to be able to prove Katsuki was just a savage rogue bound to do harm. It would be so easy to prove him right, to explode and make his point in sharp snarls and sparking palms. Giving into the expectations everyone had for him.

Well… not everyone.

He could almost see the disappointed look on Izuku’s face, the shame on Toshinori’s. For them, he walked away, stepping into the cool, quiet night.

Why was he fighting so hard to keep them happy? Why was he struggling so much to do as they hoped he would? What did a pretty little omega and a withered old pack alpha really mean to him? Why was he pushing himself so much for them? What was the point?

Questions with an easy answer, and a much more complicated truth. Katsuki mulled over them as he looked for a suitable place to sleep.

At his village, he would sometimes sleep outside under the stars, nestled in a bed of fresh grasses, still lively with recent rains, or tucked in an old, abandoned burrow. This was not his first time needing to get away from those around him, but the forest gave him fewer opportunities to hide himself away from others, to sit under the endless waves of clouds and stars above, to feel the wind in his hair and the many scents that permeated the plains. Here, everything was damp, earthy, and smelled of a faint, creeping rot, and there were few places between the trees that he could see either clouds or stars.

Katsuki considered waiting for Malcus to go to sleep before returning to the bed Soren had set out for him, but even asleep he didn’t trust the warrior being so close. So he searched the village, trying not to look suspicious. There were a few people up and about, but most of them spared him only a single glance before dismissing him. None asked what he was doing or where he was going, which was nice. They also didn’t ask him if he needed help, which Katsuki tried not to think about. It might be better for him if he simply became a phantom in the pack’s midst, something everyone was aware of but politely ignored for fear of earning its ire. Even the alphas patrolling the village didn’t stop him, watching him pass by before returning to their duty.

Eventually, Katsuki spotted something a little unexpected in the middle of a village. A garden. Or, perhaps, as much of a garden as could be expected.

There was a small dwelling, set just a bit away from everything else, enough to be intentional without being rude. It was a squat thing, much shorter than most of the other dwellings, made of woven grasses and reeds. When Katsuki approached, he noticed the grasses and reeds were pulled tight over a second layer, a leather skin stretched underneath, perhaps to keep the cold out. A clever little dwelling, it was.

The gardens surrounding it were mostly floral, the bright colors having caught Katsuki’s attention in his searching. But there were also small plots of vegetables and a single, twisted tree. Katsuki had never seen a tree like it before, but when he got closer, he saw that it seemed to be made of dozens of intertwined branches, rather than a single sturdy trunk. Its roots wove a complex pattern into the soil, and just underneath, he saw mushroom bulbs just starting to round. The soil under the tree was dark with moisture, shaded from the few dabbles of light that slipped from the tree canopy above.

It looked nothing like the roots of the few thin trees that dotted the plains of his home, and also nothing like the thick-trunked trees that steepled throughout the forest. It was a singular tree, so much so that Katsuki wondered where it might have come from.

But more than anything, he felt a sort of strange relief at the sight of it, at the burrow under its roots. He glanced around, saw he was alone, and stepped closer. The dirt was cool to the touch, but not wet. When he pressed closer, the dirt packed together tightly, giving under his hand enough to be soft but still holding his weight.

He crawled into the burrow without much thought, finding it slightly too small for him, but he curled his limbs around his body and ducked his head into his arms, and breathed deeply. The soil was loamy, the mushrooms pungent.

When he closed his eyes, he felt vaguely overwhelmed by everything, the unfamiliarity of this particular type of burrow, but then it was gone, and he felt safe and cool, the soil warming now that it cradled a body within.

Nobody saw him slip into the burrow, he knew, and nobody would come looking for him until the morning. Even if it was just for a little while, just until Malcus rose to go back to his pack, Katsuki resolved to find some rest. Yes, just a little bit of rest. Just until he was feeling a little more refreshed, just until the soil grew too cold or too wet. Just until….

- - -

Something poked Katsuki. He snarled absently, wondered why he was pressed into a space perhaps only big enough for a pup, then remembered.

He opened his eyes to Kaya staring down at him, an amused sort of look in her raised eyebrow. She leaned heavily on a walking stick, which she had used to poke at Katsuki. When Katsuki started rousing from his burrow, she stepped back to give him space and chuckled quietly.

“Well. I’ve pulled quite a few strange things from my garden, but never an alpha. You get stuck down there?”

Katsuki shook his head, feeling bits of dirt fall from his hair. He shook himself, dirt flinging outward. Kaya raised a hand to shield her face and laughed at the dirt shower. When he glanced back at the burrow, he saw several squashed remains of mushrooms.

“Uh,” he glanced at Kaya, “sorry.”

She shrugged good-naturedly. “Mushrooms aren’t the essential part of the plant. It’ll grow more when it’s ready. You all right, pup?”

He blinked, taken aback by the word pup. “I’m not—” he huffed, realizing it was futile to argue with her. “Fine.”

“Not fine? Well then. Come with me.” She turned and marched away before Katsuki could correct her. He considered going his own way, but Kaya had been kind to him and he had ruined her garden, so he obliged.

It didn’t take him long to realize she was leading him to the springs again. “I don’t need a cleansing,” he said.

“No, but you do need a wash.” She eyed him and Katsuki glanced down at himself. The soil had pressed into the very nice, clean blue robes Toshinori had gifted him. Which was probably insulting, but Katsuki didn’t really care. The robes looked awful on him anyway. “Go clean yourself off in the stream there. I’ll get you something to wear.”

She gestured to a stream beyond the rock formation where Katsuki had been cleansed and turned back toward the village with a wave. Katsuki watched her go, then stripped out of the robe. It was instantly freeing. With a sigh, he waded into the stream, which only came up to thighs, and kneeled down to start washing himself.

He hadn’t been there very long before he heard a small noise over his shoulder and turned, expecting to find an animal taking a drink.

Instead he found himself staring into the very wide eyed, very red face of Aeon Izuku himself. The omega was half bent over the stream, holding a cloth in his hands and letting it float in the water around his arms like some dead fish. His mouth was gaping open and Katsuki realized that the omega hadn’t been expecting to see him.

He grinned, happy to have surprised the omega again. “Something wrong, shula?” He took the opportunity to drag his tongue over the name again, and practically purred when Izuku leaped up, nearly clearing the water despite its depth.

Katsuki stood as well and Izuku yelped, holding the clothing out to hide his face. It looked like a shawl, perhaps, a loose robe maybe. Katsuki took a moment to try to identify what it might be, and ended up thinking it didn’t belong to Izuku with how large it was. Like the robes he’d been wearing only moments earlier, it was a shocking blue color, so perhaps it was one of Toshinori’s robes.

He was distracted from his wondering when Izuku yelped again. “Katsuki! What are you doing?”

“Washing.” He decided not to elaborate on why. “What are you doing?”

“Katsuki!” It was impressive how the omega could squeak his name in the exact same tone and register twice in a row. “Alphas do not show themselves naked in front of omegas!”

Katsuki waited for him to say something else, to give some excuse that made more sense, but slowly realized he was being serious. “Well that’s stupid.”

“Wha— Katsuki! Go put some clothes on!”

“But I’m washing.”

“Ka—” Izuku made a low growling noise of disapproval and stomped toward the bank, still holding the cloth between them. “I’ll get you something to wear.”

Katsuki thought about telling him not to get robes, but decided that was a fight for another day. Instead, he let himself stand there and enjoy the thought of how embarrassed Izuku had been, and how he thought he’d seen something layered under the shock.

- - -

Izuku kept the cloth held up far past walking out of the stream and leaving Katsuki behind. He also had to adjust his stance slightly to make walking more comfortable, but that was hardly his biggest concern.

Damn his heated thoughts. Even they couldn’t have prepared him for facing just what the hell was standing in that stream. And it was completely unfair for Katsuki to do that to him. To just be there, all naked and… and glorious.

Izuku groaned in dismay at the thought, and heard a laugh from the other side of the robes he held. He peered over them and found Kaya standing there, the old woman grinning mischievously. He stood there for a moment, looking at her, at how delighted she seemed with herself, and blinked.

“You knew I was at the stream,” he said, unable to hide the accusatory tone, “and you sent Katsuki there, didn’t you?”

Kaya shrugged. “Dear pup, you should have seen the state he was in. He needed a good washing. And you need something to admire every now and then. Same old stock must be boring after a while.”

“Kaya!” Izuku groaned.

Kaya just laughed, but when that faded, her smile took on a bit of a somber tone. “Courting robes, I see. So. Should we prepare for the celebration?”

Izuku blinked and finally let the robes drop from in front of him. He had wanted to get them cleaned and ready before anyone in the village saw him. Kaya was hard to sneak anything past, so he wasn’t surprised she had caught him, but he hadn’t been ready to be confronted by it.

When he said nothing, she stepped forward and touched the sopping material. “It’s beautiful. You know, I remember when the weavers started making this. Wonderful thing it is. Almost as much as that coat of yours.”

Izuku stared down at the courting robes. It was traditional for omegas to be gifted robes such as these when they became of age. The robes were often a gift from aunts, mothers, sisters. This one had been a gift from the pack, eager to clothe their aeon in something most exquisite.

In their eyes, it had been a gift equal to the coat that Izuku wore nearly every day, a symbol of how beloved he was by his pack. And Izuku saw it that way as well, but could never quite shake the feeling the robe was heavier than it should be.

“It is beautiful,” he replied evenly.

“Mm,” Kaya sounded something disappointed, but she stepped back. “You go on before the others see you. You’ll tell me if you need something, yes?”

“Yes, Kaya.”

“Good pup. And don’t worry about our newest alpha. I’ll take care of him.”

“Oh, yes, he needs some clothes.” Izuku tried to think who was about the same size as Katsuki, someone willing to let him borrow some clothes.

“I said don’t worry about it, pup. I’ve got something for him.” And with that said, she stomped off toward the stream.

Izuku considered going after her, but knew Katsuki was still at the stream and the thought of seeing him again, still probably naked, made his mouth water in a weird way, so he decided it best to leave Kaya to it. If anyone could handle Katsuki, it was her. Of that, he had no doubt.

- - -

Katsuki waited to see if Izuku was going to come back before he dipped back down into the water and finished washing himself off. Thinking over what Izuku had said was bothersome. Wearing clothing was sometimes a pain, although he had noticed it didn’t get quite as hot here as it did on the plains. The shade from the trees overhead seemed to help, so maybe he wouldn’t have to worry too much about it.

And anyway, it had been fun to get to see the aeon squirm again.

Once he was done, he got out of the stream and shook some of the water from his body, then laid out on a long, flat rock nearby that was getting a bit more sun than anywhere else. It was still cool to the touch, but it might serve to dry him off. He’d been laying there for a while when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He looked up to see Kaya smirking down at him.

“You seem comfortable, dear.”

“I’m trying to dry off.”

“Well you aren’t going to get much of anywhere like that. Although I do know several pack members who wouldn’t mind if you laid out all day like that. Still, perhaps preserve your modest a bit more for now. Once everyone gets more comfortable, then they should be more okay with… well, all of you.”

Katsuki frowned at the implications in Kaya’s words, but couldn’t decide which one bothered him more: the fact that he was expected to be modest, or that Kaya really thought the pack would ever get comfortable with him being there.

Still, when she gestured for him to follow her, he did so, even loosely tying the old blue robes around himself to hide his body. She led him back to her little dwelling, pausing at the edge of her garden to greet a little bundle of spider lilies.

“They’re so peevish if I ignore them,” she added to Katsuki as they walked past the red, stringy flowers.

Katsuki decided to ignore this particular peculiarity for the moment. “For being so concerned about my modesty, you didn’t seem bothered by me.”

“Listen, pup, when you get to my age, you’ve seen it all and nothing surprises you anymore. Look forward to the day; you get to enjoy the strangeness of life much more.” She gave him an appraising glance. “And sorry to tell you, you’re not nearly the finest specimen I’ve seen.”

Katsuki paused, caught between being instinctually insulted and shocked she would say something like that to him in the first place. He eventually decided he was insulted and scowled at her back as she slipped into her dwelling, gesturing him in with a wave. He followed her and immediately found himself tangled in a low-hanging tress of wisteria. He shook himself free and startled when he caught sight of the rest of the dwelling.

Every single wood support was covered by vines or flowers, the air thick with pollen and perfume. More strands hung from overhead, just barely sweeping the top of Kaya’s head, but practically a strangulation hazard for someone with Katsuki’s height. The floor was covered by a thick furred skin of some creature he didn’t recognize, one corner piled with pillows and blankets. A nest, he guessed, though it seemed a little haphazard. There was a collection of low chairs and a counter that held vials of strange and, frankly, alarming substances, both solid and liquid. One looked suspiciously empty. Katsuki made sure to keep an eye on it, half expecting the stopper to pop open and for a spirit to come wailing out of it.

“Blanket in the corner. Use it to dry yourself off,” Kaya’s voice called from somewhere in the thicket.

Katsuki squinted around but eventually found the blanket she had referred to, something thick and soft. He wiped it along his body, eying the plants suspiciously, before going to find where Kaya was hiding.

She was bent over something near her nest, muttering to herself. When Katsuki ducked closer to her, he saw that she was rifling through an elaborately carved chest. It was beautiful piece, polished to a shine, little figures carved precisely into the wooden sides. It showed three little girls playing. Katsuki remembered the three girls who had helped her with his cleansing, her daughters. He glanced over those little figures, saw them laughing, smiling, even in a small corner where they all sat bundled together laying flowers by a stone cairn.

“Who made this?” Katsuki asked.

Kaya didn’t look at him. “It was a gift from the pack.”

“Nice of them.” Katsuki suspected there was more to it than that, but he didn’t press.

“Oh, they’re a good lot. Even if they get under your skin more often then not. Ah! Here we go.” She yanked something from the chest and offered it to Katsuki.

At first, he didn’t recognize it. Not in the setting he found himself, in a pack far from home. It had been a long time since he’d seen a proper set of trousers and vest. The ones he’d been wearing had been torn and shredded and repaired and stretched beyond recognition. And even then, he’d never really chosen to dress nicely. He’d kept to hunting gear mostly, comfortable and simple.

These were a bit more than that, reminiscent of something his father would have worn day to day, tending to the pack. Soften leather lined with the fine hairs from the plain boars, stitched with simple but sturdy threads. A delicate himawari pattern on the vest matching the yellowed color of the accompanying loose tunic. It was almost too incredible to believe.

“You seemed uncomfortable yesterday. Thought you might…,” Kaya trailed off. She sighed and set the clothes in his hands. “Here, dear. Deep breath.”

Katsuki didn’t know what she was saying, until he blinked and his vision blurred. He turned away from her, setting his jaw against the swell of emotion. He hadn’t noticed how caught up he’d been seeing the clothes from his pack, his people. A remnant of what had once been so normal.

Kaya placed a hand on his arm. “Chin up. You’ll be okay.”

Katsuki took a breath, steadied himself. Opened his eyes, saw Kaya clearly. There wasn’t pity in her eyes, which was what he feared. Instead, he saw something bordering on anger. Not at him, he thought, but something else.

“How?” He asked.

“How what?”

“How do you have these?”

Kaya smiled. “Were you not listening, pup? I told you, when you get to my age, you’ve seen a lot. Here. You want to put them on? We’ll adjust for your size.”

He hesitated at first, struck by the thought he might not fit in such clothes in more ways than just physical size, but Kaya gestured for him to start dressing. He handled the clothes much more gently than he had before, afraid they would unravel and fall apart in his hands, just as everything else from his past had. But they remained sturdy as he tugged everything into place, Kaya even pressing her hands over her eyes while he pulled the trousers into place. Everything was a little loose, but not uncomfortably so. Most of the hunting gear Katsuki had once worn had been lean and slick, designed to hold tight to his body so not to get caught on the clingy plains grass. Still, Kaya asked him what he thought and when he mentioned how loose they felt, she immediately went about tugging at them, manhandling the cloth until it could be pinned in place, and when everything felt almost too right, she took out a needle and thread.

She worked in silence, and Katsuki stared ahead, not wanting to bother her. It was all more than just a little overwhelming, to be standing there wearing the clothes of his old pack. He kept wondering how and how and how and why. Although Kaya hadn’t seemed willing to speak on the issue more, he thought he might find answers elsewhere. Then again, what answers would be of any use to him? Even if someone from the pack had interacted with his pack long ago, that did not make his pack any less dead. These small fragments, collected up like treasures in another pack’s hoard, were just like him. Small remnants, what was left after the fires. The last, withering thoughts before the wind carried them away forever.

He stared ahead, realizing that, like these fragments, once he withered and died, his pack would die with him. He was all there was left, and he would not last.

Kaya sighed and stepped back. “There you are. Look good, pup. Quit your staring; you’re likely to see into places you might not want to look right now.”

She was perceptive, the old witch. Katsuki took a breath and tore his gaze away from thought of his pack. “Feels good.”

“Good. You know, there are some very talented tailors in the pack. They might enjoy the challenge of taking apart and putting back together your particular style.”

Katsuki thought about how he wanted to respond, how he partly thought it was a bad idea to mark himself out anymore from everyone else, how it would be nice to be able to wear the familiar clothes of his people, but didn’t get to say anything.

A noise split the air, so unexpected that Katsuki’s head whipped toward it and he snarled in reply. A low series of howls, ringing out from over the forest. Kaya made a disapproving noise close to a hrrumph.

“Tsunagu’s lot are here.” She sighed and took up her walking stick again. “Come along. May as well greet them with the others. I want to see what everyone thinks of your old look.”

Chapter Text

Izuku was in his dwelling, laying out his courting robes to dry, when he heard the howl announcing the arrival of the last pack’s envoys. He grabbed his coat, thought about covering the robe while he was gone, then shook his head and hurried to meet them.

The pack was already gathering when he joined them, facing the approaching howls with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. Izuku spotted Hitoshi in the crowd standing with Denki, but there was no sign of Malcus. He must have left already, though Izuku hadn’t heard anyone mention when he had slipped away. He might be halfway to his pack by then, or perhaps he’d just heard the approaching howls and decided he didn’t want to be there to be invited to anymore meetings.

Izuku also scanned for who else was in the crowd, spotting Shoto and his family toward the center, Mirai stepping forward to properly greet their guests, then finally, the crowd parted and revealed Toshinori and his mother. Izuku ducked between two pack members to reach them, greeting his mother with a low purr when she spotted him. Toshinori acknowledged him with a nod, but otherwise kept his focus on the forest beyond their village.

The howls came closer and closer, but as they did, Izuku became aware of another sort of noise rising at his back. He tried to focus on the coming envoys, but kept seeing people in his periphery turn toward something, lean in to whisper something to their companions. No doubt Toshinori noticed, but he stayed stalwart in staring forward, his posture upright but relaxed. A sign of his power, even in his withered state.

As his son, as the aeon, Izuku should have stayed the same. Upright, forward, with a smile to welcome their guests. But the whispers were growing and he’d yet to see the one person he realized he’d been looking for.

As the last of the latest rounds of howls died away, Izuku turned over his shoulder and saw him.

Katsuki had always stood apart from the others. The pack had first kept their distance, then as they grew more familiar with his presence, he had still been apart from them as the face that snagged attention in an otherwise faceless crowd. Katsuki had a face that demanded attention, and even if it was just a fleeting glance, one couldn’t help but give it to him. And now, he had set himself farther apart from the others.

He wasn’t wearing the robes Toshinori had gifted him. That was fine, Izuku supposed, but Kaya had said she would take care of him. He’d suspected that she had been given another set of robes from Toshinori for Katsuki, just as she had for the first set. But she hadn’t.

Katsuki was dressed in loose pants and a long shirt, touched yellow but not as if it were an aged, disused cloth. There was purpose to the color, mirroring the yellow of the flower design on the vest he wore over the tunic. Although the vest had clasps and ties to keep it buttoned, Katsuki wore it open so it fell casually at either side. His arms were crossed over his chest, the only sign of discomfort he allowed. No doubt he knew everyone was whispering about him, not about their guests.

At his elbow, Kaya stood with her walking stick before her, looking quite proud of herself. Izuku gave her a wide-eyed look and she winked in response. Then Izuku glanced back up at Katsuki and saw the alpha was looking at him.

He turned away and checked his father’s expression. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but there it was. A little tightness in the corner of his jaw.

Alpha Toshinori was displeased.

Izuku stared forward, feeling his heart pounding. Had Toshinori seen Katsuki’s attire? Surely he had. What did it mean? Where had it come from? What kind of attire was it, anyway? Izuku had never seen anything like it from any of the nearby packs. Why would Katsuki deliberately cast off robes gifted to him by the pack alpha for something like that? He didn’t understand.

He didn’t have time to think much about it either, as the envoys appeared through the trees at that exact moment.

Immediately, a sinking feeling dripped through his core.

It was a younger bunch this time. Too young. They howled and hollered as they approached, customary for their pack, mostly annoying for the other packs, but there was a recklessness in their actions that bordered on disrespect. Three of them, all of them dressed in a strange colorful mix. They stuck out from the forest like no others did, bold in their approach, unsubtle and unapologetic.

At their lead, Izuku had no surprise to see a young blond-haired, blue-eyed beta who smiled a little too wide to be genuine. He’d known Neito a long time, and he was only glad to see him in that he was perhaps one of the only people who could convince his packmates to follow him. Where his companions launched themselves through the forest with delight, he walked on, encouraging them with flairs of howling, which they took up enthusiastically. So close to the village, their display was intrusive.

Izuku caught the moment it went wrong, when one of them, a young alpha he didn’t recognize, leaped up toward a tree that so happened to be a lookout post for the village. Neito’s eyes pinpointed as he realized the mistake, just as Toshinori let out a growl powerful enough to shake the entire village.

Several villagers dropped immediately to their knees, startled by the rage of their alpha. Izuku felt the impulse to do the same, to pacify his alpha in any way he could, but he steadied himself and stayed upright.

The envoys faltered under the power of another pack alpha, until Neito dropped to his knees at well. The one who had reached for the lookout post had drawn his hand back just in time and went tumbling through the air instead, landing in a sprawl that he quickly adjusted into a bow.

There followed a moment of unease, with Toshinori’s growls rippling through the village, the pack swaying with the anger of their leader. The initial shock of it had worn off and now, the pack was rising to meet their alpha’s displeasure. Omegas were baring their teeth and betas were shifting back and forth and alphas had gone very still with their eyes very wide. It would take only one false move for the pack to spring forward. All this tension and unease had been building and building, and the result was a pack ready for a fight.

Izuku saw how quickly the tension was thinning, how Toshinori seemed disinclined to stop growling, and how the three envoys before them were very much now aware of the seriousness of the situation. They kept their heads bowed forward, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes. The offender, who had tumbled slightly in front of his companions, was shaking. Things were getting out of hand.

So he stepped forward.

It was like a breath being taken, all at once. Hundreds of little inhales, the sudden whisper of air moving, as Izuku stepped from the crowd. The alphas turned their gazes to him, their eyes once pinpointed now widening to watch him, to follow him. The betas stopped swaying, dropping into a lower stance that conveyed both reverence and cautiousness, not quite yet willing to be unprepared for something to go wrong. The omegas covered their teeth and crooned quietly at the presence of their aeon, at his direction in walking forward to calm the pack. The chorus of his pack’s omegas singing at his back steadied Izuku, made each step a little easier.

Soon enough, even Toshinori had stopped growling, but he didn’t move forward to join Izuku, unwilling to forgive and move on. Izuku also became aware of someone at his back, his faithful shadow ready to support him. He didn’t look back, but he knew it was Shoto. Having him at his side was instantly relieving, and Izuku found he could more easily focus on the three in front of him rather than the pack behind him. He’d have to remember to do something very special for the alpha in thanks.

He reached the offender first, his shadow falling over him. The alpha was around the same age as Izuku, perhaps a bit younger, though not significantly. They were all about the same age, though Izuku couldn’t know for sure. He’d never met any of them, save for Neito. So he wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the alpha bowed before him, and he didn’t know what the alpha expected of him.

He made a show of slipping his hands into his sleeves, more for his pack than anyone else. They were not a threat. He could afford to have his hands hidden and resting, rather than on the knife at his waist.

“You’ve displeased our alpha,” he stated plainly, “do you have something you’d like to say in reply?”

“Great Aeon,” the reply came instead from Neito. Surprisingly, there were no flourishes with his words, no signature showmanship, a sign that he understood the gravity of the situation, so Izuku let him speak without reprimand. “Please forgive the enthusiasm of my packmate. He was thrilled when he received the summons from our pack alpha to serve as envoy to this pack. He let himself get a little carried away is all. Please forgive his misstep.”

“A misstep is forgetting to clean yourself off before presenting yourself to our pack. The trees around the village are directly under our protection. A member of our pack as much as I am. And you wanted to swing from them like they were a child’s toy.”

This was only partially true, but it was what they told members of outside packs. The lookout posts were designed to be nearly invisible, though most visitors could eventually find out where they were if they paid close enough attention. The pack purposefully didn’t talk about where their posts were for protection not only of the village but also of the lookouts themselves. It was simpler to say all the trees in the immediate area were under the pack’s protection, rather than call attention to the specific ones that nestled lookout posts. And it was true that the trees immediately around the pack were so old and familiar to the village that they were a part of it. The forests beyond those trees shifted in the years, but the ring directly around them stayed as it had been for as long as Izuku could remember, and for as long as his pack had been telling stories about them. They were special. And Izuku was a little annoyed this upstart had tried to use one as a plaything.

Although he didn’t typically like speaking in such a harsh tone, he did so as the pack’s voice, channeling their frustration and anger. He knew it would be better coming from him, rather than from Toshinori or, in the worst scenario, Enji. Izuku could feel his fire flickering at his back, even though he stood several paces away. No doubt he would love the opportunity to squash the envoys for their disrespect.

But he stood between them, and he could tell by the serious way Neito addressed him that he, at least, understood. “Yes, Aeon. We understand. Please forgive us.”

Izuku snorted, turning to the alpha still bowed at his feet. “Don’t you have anything to say to us?”

The alpha pressed his nose into the ground. “F-frogive me, Great Aeon. I’m truly s-s-sorry.”

The way his words quivered tugged at Izuku’s sympathy. Still, he didn’t move from his spot. “What say you, Neito?”

Neito lifted his head when directly addressed, though made sure to keep his eyes down. “Our Alpha sent us to represent him to your pack, and we have done a poor job already. If you wish, we will go back and ask for another team to be sent. But I ask you allow us in so we may speak. We will do better in representing our pack and respecting yours.”

Izuku was half tempted to send them away, if for no other reason than for their own safety. But he knew they didn’t have time for that. They would have to be let in, spoken with, and perhaps encouraged to leave swiftly. That would minimize the overall damage.

He opened his mouth to speak, but paused when Shoto shifted. Distracted as he’d been, he hadn’t noticed the tension building in Shoto’s stance, the way he had dug his feet in and was staring down at the cowering alpha before Izuku. Was he still that mad?

Trying both to decipher Shoto’s anger and ignore it, Izuku said to the envoys, “Stand and greet our alpha. He will decide.” Izuku knew no matter how Toshinori felt, he wouldn’t send the envoys away. They needed to get the message about the rogue pack to their alpha, no matter how insulted he might be. The danger was much larger than petty squabbles.

So Izuku stepped back, aware that Shoto shifted with him, standing in front of him as the three rose. The offender made sure to keep his head down and his eyes shadowed as he stepped in line, with Neito at the front. They came to stand before Toshinori, who had watched the exchange in silence, his lips still tense along his teeth.

Neito bowed again. “Forgive us, Alpha, for our companion’s insult. We mean not disrespect and offer any remedy you suggest to balm it.”

Toshinori snorted, and turned away without telling them to rise. “We’ve no time for this. Come with me. We will speak.”

The three rose and followed Toshinori, who gestured for each of the council to follow him. He turned back to Izuku and Shoto and gestured for them as well, but he did not call for Katsuki. Katsuki took a step forward to follow, only for Kaya to stop him. He gave Kaya a strange look but didn’t try again. When Izuku and Shoto passed by him, Izuku thought about saying something, anything, but looking over at him, seeing him in those strange clothes, dismissing the gifts of his alpha. It stung to see, and Izuku ducked his head and kept walking.

- - -

They were wolves.

Katsuki knew it the moment he had seen them break through the forest. There was nothing inherently wrong with wolves; they were mischievous, playful, intelligent, and loyal to a fault. But they also made formidable opponents, and Katsuki wasn’t all that sure exactly who they saw as their enemies. Worse, there were three of them. A pack of wolves was quite different from a lone wolf. A lone wolf would be more cautious, clever, sly in many ways a fox could be. Wolves in a pack were reckless, boisterous, liable to stumble into danger they would have otherwise avoided.

Such was what had happened right in front of the pack. Katsuki had never seen Toshinori so angry before, though he supposed he hadn’t known him all that long. Still, he hadn’t really considered that Toshinori was capable of using an Alpha Voice, even if that was inherent in being a pack alpha. Hearing his command sweeping over the village had riled up every nerve in his body. His instinct was to fight against it, to bare his teeth and snarl in defiance of an alpha’s command, any alpha’s command.

His pack had not been led by an alpha. He wasn’t used to taking orders from an alpha. So it had been more than difficult to simply stand there, holding himself together, willing himself not to move, until he saw Izuku step forward.

A sudden wash of peace swept the defiance away. Katsuki had lifted his chin slightly as Izuku stood before the pack, between them and the wolves. When Izuku spoke, he had calmed, just as instinctual as disobeying the command of an alpha. The soothing words of an omega were easier for him to listen to. Even if they were not directed at him.

At the back of his mind, he heard an old voice tell him, Steady, steady, steady, but he pushed those memories away before they could overwhelm him.

Katsuki stood and watched as Izuku resolved the matter, as the three were put back into place by him. He paused when Izuku so easily forgave the alpha who had insulted them, especially seeing as he was doing a poor job concealing his fury. The alpha had been practically shaking with it, a bottled up kind of fury liable to explode. Had Shoto not been at Izuku’s side, Katsuki would have been tempted to be ready for a fight. As it were, he thought perhaps Shoto’s presence alone had kept the alpha from acting out. Katsuki kept a close eye on the alpha as he stood and followed his leader without a word.

Once things had calmed down, Toshinori gestured for them to follow and they did, the council members gathering as well. Katsuki took a single step to follow, only for Kaya to take hold of his sleeve.

“The Alpha has not call for you,” she whispered, a low thread of words he had to strain to hear, “keep to yourself for now.”

Katsuki blinked down at her, then up just in time to catch Izuku walking past. He had intended for the next time he saw the omega to tease him, to flash his teeth and purr, “Shula,” and watch his face redden, but he didn’t do anything of the sort. There was something horrifically sad in Izuku’s expression, but he couldn’t get a very good grip on it before the omega ducked away from him, purposefully hiding his face. Almost as if… he was ashamed.

Katsuki felt a ripple of unease along his shoulders. He stepped again to follow, only for Kaya to tug him back. “All in good time, pup. Let them handle those boys first. You don’t want to be a part of it.”

On one level, she was right; Katsuki had little interest in what Toshinori was going to do or say to the wolves, but that didn’t matter. Something was wrong and he had to find out what it was and fix it, as soon as possible.

Again, Kaya tugged at his sleeve. “Give it time, pup,” she said again, lower, softer.

She sounded a lot like the old woman. Steady, steady, steady, her voice pleaded, but Katsuki was tired of being steady.

He clenched his hands, sparks racing up his fingers, and pulled away from Kaya. He heard the pack react around him, a series of soft growls and uneasy chirps, but he ignored them, shoving past the crowd and into the quiet of the outskirts of the village.

He needed time to himself. Time away. Time to quiet the voice in his head and insisted he be steady, steady, steady, when all he wanted to do was explode.

- - -

Neito wore a patient smile as he and his companions were gathered and surrounded by the pack’s council. His companions shifted uncomfortably, but he remained calm in the face of clear hostility. When Izuku looked closely, he could see the subtle clench of his jaw, a tightness to the corner of his eyes. He was aware exactly how much danger he and his companions were in, but he pretended not to notice, keeping his gaze politely lowered.

He wasn’t stupid, just enthusiastic, and that had gotten him into trouble in the past. His pack alpha encouraged discipline, but somehow always ended up with a mix of wild children and slightly grumpy adults. Although, Izuku had never actually met Neito’s pack alpha before. He’d met Hitoshi’s and Malcus’s, but not the other two. His father spoke of them often enough for Izuku to have an overall impression, but he really wondered what they were actually like.

This latest batch of envoys really made him question what their pack alpha was like. Why would he have sent these three specifically? Surely he would have known they were a little too out of control for such a delicate situation.

His answer came when Toshinori sighed, his signal to bring the council to convene. “I’ll be direct. We called you here because we do have a rogue that may want to go with you to meet your pack, but also to warn of terrible tidings.”

All three envoys stilled, clearly surprised to hear this. Izuku knew that both Malcus and Hitoshi had been summoned with the understanding that something was wrong, even if they hadn’t been given the details. But his father hadn’t bothered to mention this little detail to Neito’s pack alpha. Why was that?

“Oh? And what news might that be, Alpha?” Neito kept his voice upbeat, curious, even as suspicion tightened the corners of his eyes.

Toshinori paused, evaluating each of the envoys sitting before him, before he spoke, “A rogue pack has moved into the territory. We don’t know where they are, specifically, or what they want, only that they attacked our pack during the last Moon and injured some of our omegas. And we have reason to believe they are still nearby, and that they may come after either our pack or one of the surrounding packs next.”

The three stiffened as Toshinori spoke, each of them reacting with shock, confusion, anger. Neito’s two companions shared a quick glance behind their companion’s back as Neito struggled to keep himself calm.

“Well,” he said eventually, “that’s rather alarming news.”

Toshinori nodded. “We don’t request action from the three of you beyond alerting your alpha. As of right now, we have alerted all the other packs to the rogues’ presence, but have not started coordinating any efforts to locate or stop them. That will come, I’m sure, but first and foremost, you must return home and ensure your pack is not taken off guard.”

“Yes, of course.” Neito paused and lifted his eyes, staring right at Toshinori for a few painful seconds. “This rogue. The one you sent us to retrieve. Is there really a rogue?”

“Yes, there is.” Toshinori didn’t answer the silent second question.

Neito didn’t let him ignore it, “And are they a part of this rogue pack?”

Toshinori sighed. “It’s complicated. They are not directly pack members, but they were sent by that pack to attack our omegas. An initiation of sorts.”

Behind Neito, the alpha that had tried to swing on the lookout tree hissed. “You didn’t send word of this to us beforehand? You want us to take a rogue that has already proven to be a threat to our packs?” He bit off a growl when Enji sat up, his presence more than just a threat.

Sensing the heightening tension, Izuku interjected, “Your pack alpha has told us many times before that he does not judge at first meetings. He has said he enjoys taking on difficult cases and giving people second chances. If that has changed, then so be it.”

The alpha growled again, Neito quickly speaking over him, “We’ll talk to them. See what they have to say.”

Toshinori nodded. “Good. And if he says anything about the rogue pack and what he knows of them, you will remember who warned you of their presence in the first place, yes?”

It was a warning and a request bound together, and Neito smiled and bowed in reply. “We would never forget your kindnesses, Alpha Toshinori. But needless to say, we do need to get moving if we are to warn our pack of the danger. So. Maybe point us in the right direction so we can get started?”

Toshinori nodded toward Touya, who rose and gestured for the three to follow him. When Neito and his companions stood, Toshinori said, “You will inform me before you leave, with or without the rogue.”

Neito smiled and bowed. “Of course, Alpha. We’ll speak soon.” With that, he followed Touya out of the council room, his companions trailing behind him.

Once they had gone, there came an uncomfortable silence and stillness to the council. The fire crackled between them, sharp sounds that split the air, something shifting within and rumbling ominously.

“Um,” Izuku glanced across from where he sat next to the father, straight into Shoto’s eyes. The alpha was leaned forward, his expression hard to read. Numb, perhaps. Unfeeling. What was he thinking about? “Father?”

Toshinori growled, low and short, and Izuku understood that was all he would get as a reply. “Are you, uh, upset?”

“I am disappointed.” He said it straightforward, clear.

Izuku nodded, staring into the fire. He was aware of the others watching this exchange, of how they were evaluating how they should respond based on how their alpha reacted. Nobody was particularly pleased with how the morning had gone. But had Toshinori outright forgiven the envoys, they would have fallen in line behind him.

But that wasn’t all that was wrong that morning.

Izuku thought about how to best address it, especially with Enji’s scrutinizing glare on him, and eventually said, “I met with Kaya this morning. She said she was taking care of Katsuki. Is that true?”

There was a beat. Everyone’s gaze fell to Toshinori, who didn’t react, his eyes closed. Then, he sighed. “She was supposed to.”

“Did you give her more robes for him to wear?” Izuku asked.

“Not quite. Though I did ask her to ensure she was wearing my colors.” He paused when Enji scoffed.

“Why clothe that rogue in your own colors? He’s not one of us.”

“He’s under my protection,” Toshinori said sharply, and Enji snarled in response. “Hitoshi is still here in the village and I knew Tsunagu was sending his envoys. Giving him my colors to wear was the best way to ensure they didn’t react badly, or anyone else in the village.”

Enji’s snarl widened. “Why do we welcome the likes of him amongst us anyway?”

“He helped us.”

“He’s a threat.”

“He’s a survivor,” Izuku snarled in reply. “His pack was destroyed and he’s the only one who lived. He deserves our protection after what he’s been through and what he’s done for us!”

He could tell Enji had not heard this news yet. Although his snarl remained, he paused, thinking. After a beat, he let his lips close over his teeth. “If he isn’t strong enough to withstand our allies, then what hope would he have against our enemies?”

“Why subject him to the ire of our allies? It’s unnecessary.”

“So you think,” Enji said, and Toshinori’s eyes flashed open, a challenge suddenly ringing between them.

Izuku took in a breath, thinking of a way to settle the two alphas, when a voice called from the corner of the room, “Is this about the boy’s clothes? You’d think there would be better things to argue about.”

It took everyone a moment to realize who had spoken, and when they saw Torino standing there, even Enji hesitated. The old beta stepped forward and tossed something into the fire. Izuku didn’t see what it was, but the flames caught it and brilliant tongues of blue lapped eagerly at the offering, vanishing just as quickly as they’d come.

“You know, it can’t be easy for him here. Just as it’s not easy for us to have him here. But I did notice he was a lot calmer than he’s been. Something’s settled him. And that’s for the better.”

“How is him settling here better?” Enji snapped.

Torino shot him an appraising glare. “Better he be settled and calm than on the edge of snapping. Less chance of something going wrong, for him or for us.”

“He would not dare,” Enji growled.

“If he felt the need, I think that boy is capable of so much more.” Torino and Toshinori shared a look, something sad, almost grieving. They both knew what had happened to him, after all. “Let it be. We’ve larger issues than what color someone wishes to wear.”

“He’s right.” Mirai’s voice surprised Izuku. The head beta had allowed the conversation to go on for some time, simply watching and thinking. But now he stood. “All the packs have been informed. Soon, they will start gathering their forces. We will need to be prepared to coordinate our efforts with them. It will be no simple thing, getting everyone to work together.”

“It will take a careful hand,” Tenna agreed, “but I have faith in Alpha Toshinori. He will lead us right, as he always does.” She looked over to Enji, leaving a question at his feet.

The alpha looked around the room, then into the fire. His jaw worked as if he were chewing on something, then he stepped back. “I follow our Alpha’s commands. As always.”

There was something dissatisfied in the way he spoke, but Izuku believed him. Even at his most enflamed moments, he had always done as Toshinori commanded. They disagreed, yes, and sometimes Enji ignored Toshinori’s requests, but a command was different. He understood the delicacy of their situation, and the threat beyond their borders. What color Katsuki chose to wear was inconsequential.

But they had still squandered time on it, when it would have been so simple for Katsuki to just accept Toshinori’s gifts.

Izuku took a breath, projecting an outward aura of calm, even as he seethed inside.

“What first, Alpha?” Mirai asked.

“First, we ensure our messages get back to the other packs. Malcus will signal us when he has reached home, and again when he delivers the news to Yoroi’s pack. Hitoshi will be leaving soon to inform his pack, and Tsunagu’s envoys will leave soon after, I think. Tenna, you will signal us after you have spoken with Tsunagu, and Hitoshi will signal us when he reaches home. Once we know everyone is warned, then we will work to coordinate our efforts. While we wait, we prepare our own defenses.” He turned to Mirai. “The extra dwellings need to be completed. Extra lookout posts built. Progress?”

Mirai shifted closer and started giving his report. Izuku listened as much as he could, but again and again his mind returned to Katsuki standing there, not a hint of blue in his strange clothing. That look of almost… pride on his face. As if shunning Toshinori had granted him peace.

He focused on breathing evenly, and as soon as the meeting was called done, he leaped up. He needed to speak with Katsuki.

- - -

Katsuki didn’t linger in the main part of the village. After the excitement of the wolves’ arrival, many started drifting toward the dining hall, perhaps hoping to get some food. Food was the sensible option, but Katsuki wasn’t hungry. Instead, after storming away from Kaya and everyone else, he had found a small break in the trees above, a square of sunlight painting the ground in warm golden light. He lay in that spot, not really caring where he was or if he was in the way. He just needed to close his eyes and breathe for a moment, let the sparks fade from his fingers.

Kaya mercifully left him alone. As grateful as he was to her, he also needed some space. Even in his own pack, he’d needed some distance from the others, a bubble of quiet that was all his own. A place where he could set aside anger and frustration and just breathe. Whether she recognized this or not, Katsuki was glad she let him have a moment to himself.

As he lay there, he was aware of the pack moving around him, but nobody walked up to him and nobody called out to him. It was a bit strange, keeping his eyes closed, laying on the ground, vulnerable, with so many strangers moving around him. He kept expecting a sense of dread to build in his chest, but it never did. He lay there and the village moved around him and somehow, they existed in perfect quiet and acceptance of one another.

Strange. But so very welcome.

He’d been laying there for a while when he first realized someone was watching him. He felt their eyes on him like a hand pressed to his shoulder, fingers slowly tightening. He opened his eyes and looked around, but there was no one nearby. A few pack members were talking to each other a couple of dwellings over, but not to him. He heard people moving, but not toward him. He was in his little bubble, alone. Or, at least, that’s what it appeared.

But he wasn’t alone. He knew someone was watching him. Who and why were the only questions left. He sat up, feeling the eyes follow his movements. He glanced around again, realizing that the presence of the pack hadn’t bothered him, that this felt like something else. Someone else.

There were only a few people from outside the pack in the village. The wolves, who were too loud and preoccupied with getting yelled at by Toshinori, probably. And the purple-haired scout.

Katsuki glanced around, searching for where he was hiding, and paused when he heard footsteps approaching. He figured it must be the scout, having realized he was caught, until Izuku appeared between the dwellings.

Even under the scrutiny of a watcher, Katsuki’s first impulse on seeing Izuku was to flash his teeth, but he didn’t, instead settling for a smirk.

“Morning, shula,” he greeted, then paused when he noticed Izuku’s expression.

It was too closed off, too forcibly neutral. Izuku was upset about something, but he was doing that thing he did best: hiding it.

“Something’s wrong.” He didn’t ask it as a question. He knew Izuku wouldn’t have answered.

As it were, the only indication Izuku gave that he was correct was a slight pinching inward of his eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

“Sunbathing,” Katsuki gestured to his shrinking, shifting square of sunlight. “As much as I can in this damned forest anyhow.”

“What are you wearing?”

Katsuki blinked. He hadn’t thought about what he was wearing. Which was quite a change from the previous day, when he couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable he was. A part of him had been curious and excited to see what the omega thought about him in his pack’s style, but now he felt an edge of apprehension building up right where he’d expected the dread to swell. They were bitterly similar to one another, so at least he was prepared to handle the feeling.

“Traditional clothes from my pack. Kaya had a set.”

Izuku opened his mouth, blinked, then closed it again. He swayed on the spot and glanced Katsuki over again, as if only seeing him for the first time. As he did, Katsuki tried to look for that scout again, wondering if he was still watching. Which, of course, he would be. Why would he miss seeing this little interaction?

Katsuki wondered what he would tell his pack alpha about what he’d seen.

“You aren’t wearing my father’s colors,” Izuku sounded a little less certain than before. “He gifted you those robes so you’d be wearing his colors.”

A pang of anger snapped through Katsuki, and he set his teeth against it. “He doesn’t own me. He doesn’t even want me. Told me to leave with those freaks. So why would I want to wear anything of his?”

“What?” Izuku’s voice caught. The careful wall he’d put up crumbled almost instantly, shock and hurt falling through the rubble. “He… my father asked you to leave with them?”

“In different words.” Katsuki watched Izuku, but the omega just stared at him. “Even you have told me I won’t ever be welcome here. Your father thinks it’s best I try in their pack. Said they’re more open to rogues than most. Like your pack.”

“But I—” Izuku closed his mouth, stumbled back a step.

There was a strange look about the omega. He seemed smaller than usual, defeated somehow. Katsuki startled when he noticed it, the slump in his shoulders, the downward cast of his eyes. Izuku tried so hard, kept his chin up no matter what, that it felt like a different person entirely was standing in front of Katsuki.

And he hated seeing the omega so beaten down.

He stood up, abandoning his patch of sunlight to stand before the omega. “Oi. What? Say what you want to.”

“I don’t—” he bit his lip.

“Don’t what?” Katsuki crossed his arms. “You think I won’t be able to hear it? Think it’ll hurt me? You can’t do worse than what’s already been done to me, so go ahead and talk.”

The terrible expression deepened as Katsuki spoke. Izuku opened his mouth, closed it, then suddenly lifted his head.

Katsuki stiffened, realizing someone had walked up behind him without his notice. He’d been so focused on the omega that he hadn’t been paying attention. Now he felt them, right behind him, could almost see them reflected in Izuku’s eyes.

“Neito,” Izuku greeted, calm and collected once again, “did you need something?”

Katsuki turned, and found himself facing the wolves. A dirty blond-haired beta stood at their lead, blue eyes sharp and smile a little too wide. At his back stood his companions, watching Katsuki with a curious, cautious look about them.

“Aeon Izuku. A pleasure as always,” the beta, Neito, Katsuki guessed, gave a flourish of a bow. “It’s excellent to be in your presence, but I’ve actually come to speak with this one.” He gestured toward Katsuki. “Sorry to say, I don’t actually know your name.”

“Don’t need my name. And I don’t have anything to say to you.” Katsuki turned away.

“Wait!” Izuku reached for him, and Katsuki paused, swayed by the plea in his voice.

“Yes, at least come say hello.” Neito called after him. “Your friend did say you were a bit prickly.”

Friend. Katsuki glanced over his shoulder. Neito was still smiling. There was something genuine in it, but it still made his skin crawl.

“I don’t have any friends,” Katsuki snapped. He saw Izuku shrink away at his words.

Neito lifted his hand. “Well then. If you want, we can be friends.”

“Pass.” Katsuki snapped.

“What’s with the hostility? We just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to the likes of you.”

Neito held his palms up. “My reputation precedes me! But I think you have a wrong idea of what I’m about.” He took a step forward, his companions keeping back, watching. Katsuki could feel something cautious in them, something untrusting. They were ready to leap to Neito’s defense, if needed. Nothing wrong with having your friend’s back. But that made them a threat to Katsuki.

“Our pack alpha sent us to speak with the rogues who came to this pack. To invite you to come with us, if you’d like. You have a chance to meet with our alpha, our pack, and see if you fit in. If you want a place to call home.”

Home.

He’d looked for home for a long time. This guy was telling him that there was a pack willing to let him call them home. But Alpha had said much the same, and the price for acceptance had been high. He’d already learned once that some prices weren’t worth it, not for what Alpha had offered. Although Neito hadn’t given him a price for entry to his pack, Katsuki knew there would be one. There always was.

He was still trying to learn what the price was for Izuku’s pack. What he would have to give to be tolerated, if not welcomed. Some in the pack were already opening up. Toshinori had allowed him to stay, even after Katsuki had attacked his pack and greatly offended his son. Izuku had welcomed him, even after said great offense. Kaya and her daughters had offered to help him, first with the cleansing, then with the small piece of his home he wore. Soren made him a bed to sleep by the fire, a place where he could be warm and safe. Eijiro and his friends had accepted him as part of their group.

When Katsuki thought about it all, he realized he’d been more welcomed and accepted than he realized. There were many in the pack who didn’t see him as a threat. Yes, some still did, and Katsuki equally saw threats in some of the pack members. But they hadn’t outright rejected him. Some tolerated him being there, some even seemed to like his presence.

It wasn’t home. Not as he had known it. But thinking on everything that had happened, even in the short amount of time he’d been there, Katsuki felt a knot of tension unwinding.

“Unless Alpha Toshinori tells me I am no longer welcome,” Katsuki lifted his chin when he spoke, looking down at Neito, “then I will stay. I will stay and defend this pack as if it were my own. I have no interest in leaving. I want to stay.”

Neito paused, as if waiting for him to say more, then let his hand drop. “Very well. I’ll confer with Alpha Toshinori, ask if he wants you out. You’ll come with us if he does?”

“I never said that,” Katsuki bared his teeth, “and you will not speak to him on my behalf.”

“He sent for us to take the rogues away.” Neito lifted an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that include you?”

“He hasn’t directly asked me to leave yet. Until he does, I’ll be staying.”

“To what end?” Neito shrugged. “You know, when we spoke with your rogue friend, he told us that you were a bit of a lone wolf. That you turned on him and your companion as soon as it was beneficial to you.”

“Watch it,” Katsuki snarled.

“Maybe on second thought it would be better for you to stay. Perhaps even Alpha Tsunagu couldn’t help the likes of you.”

Katsuki felt himself stepping forward, his vision pinpointing, his palms sparking. How easy it would be to destroy this upstart. To put him in his place. Who was he to tell Katsuki what he needed or what to do? Who was he to judge?

Neito’s gaze shifted to Izuku, and Katsuki felt something swelling in his chest. He was tempted to step between the omega and Neito, but he held his ground, knowing Izuku wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Aeon, we’ll take the other rogue with us. As for this one, if need be, we’d be willing to do our secondary duty when it comes to rogues if you’d like.”

“Secondary duty?” Izuku’s voice was low. Katsuki had a terrible suspicion he knew what was coming.

Neito’s smile was gone. He stared between the two of them, something somber and serious about him. It didn’t quite match up, but perhaps this was who Neito truly was. Someone serious and somber and pretending so very hard to be something else.

Katsuki felt a pang of understanding.

Then Neito said, “Rogues who can’t be reformed must be dealt with. They can’t be allowed to simply roam and do harm to others. So that, when need be, is our secondary duty.” He looked straight at Katsuki. “To put them out of their misery as mercifully as possible.”

Katsuki snarled. “Try it. I dare you.”

“You can’t be serious!” Izuku stepped forward, shoved past Katsuki. “The rogues we’ve sent to you. They either have to join you or you kill them?”

“Not all of them. Once they prove they can control themselves, they can leave if they’d like. But this one clearly can’t. So he should be dealt with accordingly.”

“Does my father know?”

Neito paused, blinking. “What?”

“My father,” Izuku took another step forward. There was a hint of aggression in that step, the claiming of space, the omega’s shoulders hunched forward, ready to leap. Neito narrowed his eyes as Izuku spoke, “Does he know what you do to the rogues you claim you can’t reform?”

“Of course he does. All the pack alphas do. It’s what we do. It’s what we’ve done. That is how we keep balance in these lands.” He made a gesture outward, first to Izuku, then to the village around them. “Surely you know how this works, Aeon? We all do something to keep balance here. You keep balance between all our packs. We make sure no threats wander into our lands. And if they do, we take care of them, one way or another.” He bowed slightly, but it was mocking, insincere. At his back, his companions swayed, sensing blood.

The wolves were starting to get hungry.

“We are your protectors, Aeon. You don’t have to like us for it, but it’s what we do. It’s what we’ve always done. And there’s a threat in your village. Let us take care of it. That is what we came here to do. So let us handle it.”

Izuku stared, open-mouthed. Katsuki held his breath, his palms sweating, his body rigid.

Neito lifted a hand, and his companions shifted forward. He might have said something, given some crap ultimatum or a command for his packmates. Katsuki didn’t let him.

He launched forward, aimed for the blond beta. He’d take him out, try not to kill him. But he sure as hell wouldn’t let these assholes get the jump on him first. And if they ended up dead, so be it.

This would not be the end. Not after all he’d been through.

Neito’s gaze sharpened and his companions charged forward, falling into a formation and readying for his attack. Katsuki focused on their leader, knowing if he took him out, the others may fall back. Neito sunk into a stance, smiled, and when he got close, reached for him.

Something jammed its way between them. Katsuki collided with a strong set of shoulders and watched as a knife flashed between him and Neito.

“Stand down.”

He almost didn’t recognize the voice.

Izuku spoke in a low growl not unlike an alpha might. His words were rippled with teeth and power, a command. Katsuki stiffened at such a command, again when he Izuku spun toward him, eyes wide and pupils narrow.

“Stand down now.”

Something in Katsuki shifted. He had never been commanded by the old woman before, but he had seen her command others. There was nothing quite like the fury of an omega, and even with everything he had known destroyed and dead, he still had the instinct to listen, to not displease the omega.

He let his hands fall to his sides and dropped to his knees. He did it without much thinking, and realized too late that he’d left himself open for attack. However, the wolves didn’t fall on them. Instead, they had stepped back, facing Izuku. The omega still held his blade up between them, sunk in a fighter’s stance, ready to attack. His lips were peeled back to reveal all of his teeth, gnashed together in a low warning growl.

Against three, Katsuki would have been worried about Izuku’s safety. Yes, he’d taken all three of them out in the forest, but he’d had the element of surprise and he’d only fought two of them at the same time, Katsuki joining the fight later. When the fight had shifted, he’d stumbled, and nearly been taken. This was a different fight from what he’d faced with the rogues. Katsuki wasn’t sure if the wolves would be willing to fight him and if they did, whether they would face him with their full might. If they did, he didn’t think Izuku had much of a chance, not without sustaining heavy injuries.

He wouldn’t allow that. Izuku’s command be damned, if the wolves started circling too closely, he would have to join the fray.

The wolves kept their distance though, Neito still at their lead, brows pinched as he faced the omega. They didn’t seem to know what to do, how to act. They were young and reckless, as Katsuki had seen. This situation required a hell of a lot more delicacy than most of them were capable of. Only Neito had a grasp on the entirety of their situation, and even he didn’t seem sure how to proceed.

“Aeon,” he tried, but Izuku snarled.

“You dare,” he took a step forward, and the wolves stilled, “come into my village and cause mayhem like this? Threaten one of our guests? Endanger the life of our packmate?” He lowered his blade, but kept his grip on it tight. “I forgave you once, but you dare to insult me by behaving this way under my blessing?”

“That isn’t our intention,” Neito tried.

Izuku snorted. “What then? Katsuki is under my protection, until the day he decides to leave for himself. You will do well to remember that.”

Something warm washed through Katsuki. It settled in a long-empty hollow near his heart, a sloshing liquid perhaps a bit like blood and a bit more like hope. He dared to glance up at Izuku, to see him radiant and furious. Standing in the gap for his sake.

In all his life, in all his travels, through the best and worst of what he had seen and done, Katsuki had never met someone like Izuku. Perhaps he wasn’t surprised to see the omega standing up for him. He’d seen plenty of times when the omega had stood up against him. It was quite a different experience to see him willing to lend that strength in his defense.

Katsuki had always known that Izuku’s pack adored him. He’d seen it time and time again, how they deferred to him and delighted in his presence. He had always assumed that had more to do with him being aeon than anything else, the pack reacting to his title rather than the person who bore the title. Watching Izuku now, he no longer believed that. Not completely.

This Izuku was an omega worth following. This Izuku was a person worth fighting for. This Izuku was a leader, one who commanded rather than demanded, and Katsuki knew he would have done anything asked of him from someone like Izuku.

He realized, perhaps for the first time, that when he looked up at Izuku, he didn’t just see a pretty face and a sharp tongue. He saw something bright, intelligent, fierce. Someone who was dearly afraid but never afraid to stand up for what he believed was right. Someone who would fight to the end, no matter what the end might be.

He was beautiful, yes. But it was more than that. He was quietly powerful in a way Katsuki couldn’t quite grasp. And it was intoxicating watching him command the space around him. Katsuki felt something hungry gnawing at his insides, and when he inspected what it might be, he was surprised at what he found.

Shit. Katsuki swallowed. I might actually be falling in love.

He’d never believed in love. Yes, he’d seen Izuku fighting and had wanted a chance to court him, to woo him, to tease him and watch him squirm. The thought had delighted him, and he’d figured it would be nice to be able to have someone call him theirs. To belong.

This was something else. This was his guts rebelling and him not minding the skirmish. This was his heart jamming against its ribs and him completely understanding why. This was his entire being suddenly acutely aware of every move Izuku made, of every word, every muscle tensed, every breath.

This was him, falling in love.

Dammit.

There was no time for it. Not when Izuku was facing down three wolves from another pack. They might be reluctant to attack him because he was the aeon of his own pack, but there was always a line some people were willing to cross under perfect circumstances. And the circumstances were lining up.

Izuku was challenging them, commanding them, had a knife drawn on them. There were three of them and one of him. They were a mix of betas and an alpha, and he was an omega. This could go badly quickly.

Katsuki stayed kneeling behind Izuku, but he pressed a hand to the ground, ready to launch himself forward if need be.

“What’s going on here?”

The voice startled him so much he nearly let off an explosion. Over his shoulder, a crowd was gathered. How long had they been there? How much had they seen?

They all most certainly saw their aeon snarling at their three guests, saw him on the ground behind the omega. Being protected by him. Katsuki didn’t much like the thought of everyone seeing him like that, but they were way past him worrying about such things.

It was Eijiro who had spoken, pushing past the gathered crowd to stand next to Katsuki. “Shula,” he called, tentative, cautious. He raised his hands in a vague fighter’s stance, not quite able to commit to it when he wasn’t sure what was going on.

Izuku snarled over his shoulder. “Stay back.”

Eijiro flinched. The crowd shifted uneasily, the tension flaring at his back. Katsuki watched as Izuku took in that tension, as he bristled even more, as the wolves paced tighter together, as the alpha of their group bared his teeth in warning. Things were escalating. He needed to stop it.

“All right, fine!” Katsuki snapped. The wolves froze. Izuku stilled, going completely silent. Katsuki pushed himself back to his feet. He couldn’t let the situation get worse. He couldn’t let the wolves have at Izuku. The thought made every inch of his skin prickle. “If you want me so bad, then fine. I’ll go with you. Let your pack do whatever you want.” So long as it kept the wolves away from Izuku.

Izuku held his hand out. “No.”

Neito, seeing an opportunity to end the confrontation, smartly called out, “We’ll agree to that. We should leave. Clearly we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“No!” Izuku snarled. His voice was ragged. Katsuki couldn’t tell if it was from strain or emotion. “Katsuki, don’t.”

“It’s fine. It’s not worth it.” He added in an undertone.

“What’s not—” Eijiro glanced between the two groups. He clearly hadn’t seen the beginning of the confrontation. “Katsuki, you really want to go with these guys?”

“Don’t think I have much of a choice,” Katsuki muttered.

Izuku snarled again, spinning on him. His eyes were wide. He was shaking. He was overexerting himself. Too caught up in his own emotions. He’d collapse if he kept it up. “Of course you do. You can stay!”

“I’m not one of you,” Katsuki reminded him, “everyone keeps telling me that.”

The truth of his words hit Izuku hard. Devastation replaced the fury that had overtaken him almost too easily, one emotion slipping into the other. “I—” Izuku swallowed, clearly at a loss for what to say.

Katsuki gave him enough time to think of a response, but when he said nothing, he didn’t blame the omega. It was simply a fact. A fact he’d been fighting for too long now. If these wolves wanted him, even if it was to feed him to the slaughter, then fine. At least someone wanted him.

And it kept their appetites away from Izuku. Away from the others, too. His was a small sacrifice in the larger scale of this pack he’d stumbled upon.

“Does it matter that you’re not one of us?”

Katsuki paused, surprised by the response. It hadn’t come from Izuku. It was Eijiro who took a step closer, frowning hard in Katsuki’s face. “I mean. I don’t even really know what you mean by that anyway. Not one of us? You mean, you weren’t born from this pack? I don’t know why that makes a difference.”

“Clearly it does,” Katsuki snapped his teeth, willing the beta to just shut up. He’d made up his mind. It would only make things more difficult if he kept talking. “I’m the rogue. And I’ll always be that.”

Eijiro cocked his head and smiled. “What’s so bad about that? Doesn’t mean you’re not one of us.” He paused, then asked seriously, “Do you want to be one of us?”

For a moment, Katsuki was so caught off guard he didn’t know what to say. Well, he did know what he wanted to say – yes. Yes, yes, yes, so much I want to be part of you.

What he said was, “I’ll never be accepted. So what does it matter?”

“Never be accepted?” Eijiro grinned and brought a hand to his chin. “I get it. You’re one of those types that needs everything spelled out for you. Well, no problem!”

“Ha?” Katsuki couldn’t quite form a coherent question, and fell immediately silent when Eijiro thrust his hand under his nose.

“I’m Eijiro,” the beta greeted, “it’s good to meet you. Let’s be friends.”

Katsuki closed his mouth. He stared from Eijiro’s hand to his face. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Perhaps something to tell him what was going on, what Eijiro was trying to do. But the beta just stood there, smiling and waiting, as if this weren’t supremely embarrassing, as if it weren’t completely ridiculous. As if him standing there, waiting, was making Katsuki’s insides twist up in uncomfortable knots.

When he glanced behind Eijiro, he saw the gathered pack members watching. He expected to see scorn and ridicule. Pity, perhaps. How much his skin itched at the thought of seeing pity on their faces.

Instead, he saw a stark openness, curiosity even, and any sharp emotion he saw was turned more toward the wolves than to him.

Standing amongst them, he spotted a willowy omega girl. She was startlingly familiar in a way that made Katsuki want to curl into a ball. It was the girl from the forest, the one Solid and Skull-Face had snatched before Izuku had shown up. She was watching as well, her face carefully guarded, her hands tucked at her back. What was she thinking, Katsuki wondered. Was she hoping the wolves would take him away?

Then she noticed him staring and her expression cooled slightly. For a second, he thought she was going to snarl at him, but her gaze drifted to Eijiro’s outstretched hand instead. When she looked back up at Katsuki, she nodded, once.

Permission, perhaps. Or simple acknowledgement.

She waited, with the rest of the pack.

After staring for far too long, Katsuki carefully took Eijiro’s hand. The beta’s smile brightened like a star flaring to life in the night sky. He shook Katsuki’s hand a little too hard, but didn’t seem to mind when Katsuki hissed in annoyance. “Glad to have you here. Can’t wait to get to know you more, man.”

He took his hand away but the warmth of their contact lingered.

“Well! Now that that’s settled.” Eijiro placed his hands on his hips, deliberately facing the wolves. They bristled under the attention, Neito’s perfect smile missing. Instead, his face was pinched inward, brow wrinkled as he examined Katsuki, Eijiro, and Izuku in turn. When the alpha behind him shifted, he lifted a hand to still them.

Izuku, who had relaxed at some point during Eijiro’s little performance, slipped his knife back into his belt. “It’s time for you to go, Neito.”

“Yes,” Neito said it slowly, almost as a question. He bowed to Izuku, but never quite lowered his eyes. He contemplated saying something more, then simply gestured for his companions and the three of them slunk off, avoiding the largest of the watching crowds.

Once they were gone, Izuku let out a breath. His entire being shuddered with it, as if it had been the only thing holding him up. Katsuki waited to see if he would stumble, ready to catch him if he did. But Izuku held his ground, as always, and Katsuki turned his attention to Eijiro.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

The beta grinned back at him. “Course I did. You needed help. I’d be a terrible friend if I hadn’t done something.”

“Why would you want to be my friend?”

“Ha!” Eijiro punched his arm affectionately, ignoring when Katsuki growled at him. “You’re funny. Hey, let’s go get something to eat!”

He turned and started to walk away, and it was like a spell lifting. For how enraptured the crowd had been, suddenly everyone seemed slightly bored, turning away as well, leaning in to whisper to one another, glancing back at Katsuki and Izuku but not approaching either of them. The crowd shifted, spread outward, thinned, until there weren’t very many people left standing there.

A pressure lifted from Katsuki’s shoulders. He hadn’t noticed just how much the attention of so many had been affecting him, but now that not so many people were staring at him, he found himself letting out a rather heavy breath.

“Katsuki?” Izuku’s voice was cautious and uncertain.

Katsuki glanced over to him, then away when he saw the omega’s worried look. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

Stupid question, really.

Katsuki ground his teeth, not knowing how to answer, and in that silence, someone stepped forward. It took him a moment to recognize who it was, but then he remembered the old man who sat snoring in the corner of the council room during their discussions, and who had checked in on him when he’d first arrived at the pack before Izuku and Toshinori had spoken with him. What was his name?

“Torino,” Izuku greeted, clearly somewhat put off by his appearance.

Torino had a walking stick in one hand, but he didn’t lean on it very much. It wouldn’t have surprised Katsuki to learn he used it more as a prop than anything else.

“Exciting day, boys?” He didn’t smile when he said it, then gestured to Katsuki. “C’mon. Let’s go talk, shall we?”

“Um, Torino…,” Izuku tried, but Torino waved him off with a vague noise of dismissal.

Before following him, Katsuki glanced at Izuku. With the pressure of the confrontation behind them, he was hoping that weird feeling he’d had in the middle of it all had faded slightly. The word love didn’t fit very well in his brain – he’d always been a bit abrasive and loving someone like him was as hard as him allowing himself to be loved. He didn’t want to think about what it meant if those feelings had been something other than a strange battle rush.

Izuku met his gaze and the feeling settled again, something quieting when the omega’s attention landed on him, when he stood tall and proud and well after the dust had settled.

Shit. Katsuki lowered his head to the omega, hoping it might convey even a piece of his gratitude. Shit shit shit. What the hell am I going to do now?

Izuku smiled at him, bowed his head as well. He watched as Katsuki followed after Torino, his gaze just as lingering and warm as Eijiro’s palm had been.

He was so incredibly fucked.

- - -

Izuku could tell Katsuki had been rattled by the confrontation, and as soon as he had disappeared between two dwellings, he let his shoulders sag. He’d been trying so hard to make sure Katsuki felt welcome and safe, and in the end he hadn’t been able to help him. It had been Eijiro who could convince him to stay, to not allow himself to be taken away by Neito and his packmates.

And besides that, the knowledge of what Neito’s pack did with unruly rogues made his skin prickle. It hadn’t happened often, but rogues did occasionally wander into their territories and Tsunagu’s pack did usually take them in. Izuku hadn’t given it much thought when most of them never turned up again. Since he rarely left the village, he’d always just assumed the former rogues didn’t stray far from their new pack. Now, he had a question their absences, and what had been done to them.

He felt exhausted at even the thought of asking his father about it. Neito had said Toshinori knew, but Izuku couldn’t imagine a world where his father would condone such things. And yet, he had no reason to believe Neito was lying to him. What would he have gained from lying about something like that? Through all his actions, even that day, Neito didn’t want conflict between their packs. Yes, this visit had been particularly egregious, but if Neito had wanted to intentionally antagonize them, there were plenty of other things he could have done.

Izuku ran a hand through his hair. Where would he even start with all of this?

His answer came with a quiet thump, a presence suddenly dropped just behind him.

“Hey.” He knew the voice.

Izuku plastered on his best smile and turned. “Hitosthi,” he greeted as warmly as he could. “How are you?”

The beta raised an eyebrow. “I would ask you, but I have a feeling it isn’t good.” Izuku felt himself deflate a little, but Hitoshi simply gestured up the main village walkway. “We should speak for a moment. Privately.”

Chapter Text

Torino took Katsuki back to the council room and told him to sit, then quietly slipped out. It wasn’t the first time he’d been alone in that room, but it was the first time he’d been alone there without a fire burning. Within the ashes of the fire, the map stood out, lines carved over a vast area. It clearly encompassed more than just the immediate area around the village, though without Toshinori there to draw the borders of the territories, Katsuki didn’t know where one ended and another began.

It was strange to think about. He’d now met someone from four different packs, when it had been a long time before stumbling upon Alpha’s pack that he’d met anyone at all. Five packs all working together in such a small area. He didn’t think it could work. And he did see where it didn’t, where there was disagreement and distrust. The wolves were the latest example, but Toshinori had been careful about exactly what he said to Malcus, despite how personable he was. And Hitoshi? Clearly something was going on with him. He and Toshinori were cordial, yes, but there was something underlying it. And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that apparently the fifth pack in this little grouping was at odds with just about everyone.

Staring down at the map, Katsuki could see the appeal of the land. It was vast, rich. You could find a lot of worth in these territories. The only problems were the packs that currently inhabited the area. But, there were already fissures in the packs. Katsuki didn’t think it would take much to split them, to turn them on one another. Was that what Alpha wanted? Or was he playing a different game?

Alpha had never told him and neither had Jest. But he could see how Alpha might want this territory as his own. There were riches in the land, and also in the people. Alpha’s pack had been small, tough, accommodating their roaming lifestyle. But if he wanted to settle down, he’d need people who knew the land well and could work off it. Not to mention there were people with incredibly powerful blessings in Izuku’s village alone. Katsuki didn’t know what the other packs had in terms of raw power, but he suspected they must have some. If he was being honest, he understood Toshinori’s pack was likely to have the most powerful blessings among the other packs That was probably how they’d first gotten the prime spot they now lived. Now the others bowed to him and his pack because he was more powerful than they were. But that clearly didn’t mean they weren’t willing to ruffle his edges a little.

About ten minutes after staring at the map, thinking, another thought slowly poked at his mind. That he was avoiding something. That he was avoiding thinking of Izuku, and what thinking of Izuku did to him. Even just the acknowledgement of his avoidance made his stomach churn. He shut his eyes, remembering the way the omega had stood up to the wolves, how he had jumped in without a second thought.

Yes, he was worthy. So worthy of everything his pack said of him. But he was even more so than they seemed to realize. In another time, Katsuki would have been proud to call him a leader. But that was not quite the case in this pack.

He grimaced deeply, then looked up as the door opened.

Toshinori walked in, Torino trailing behind him. It was just the two of them. Toshinori took a spot next to Katsuki, facing him, just as he had the other night when he’d mentioned the wolves’ arrival. Torino plopped down in his usual corner, wrapped himself up in his cloak, and almost immediately started snoring. Katsuki watched him, unconvinced he wasn’t actually still paying attention.

“I heard what happened.” There was nothing in Toshinori’s voice that gave away what he might be thinking.

Katsuki glanced at him, then away, remembering what Izuku had said about staring. “If you want me to leave with them, then say it. I’ll go.”

“I want to hear it from you first.”

Katsuki set his jaw. So Toshinori wanted him to give up first? Hell no. If he was supposed to be the leader, the least he could do was to tell Katsuki what he wanted from him.

Katsuki turned to him, stared at him despite how rude he knew it was. “I don’t want to leave.” He said, waiting for Toshinori’s reaction. “I certainly don’t want to leave with those clowns. I know what they’ll do to me. I want to stay here, with your pack. But if want me gone, I’ll go. You’ll never have to hear from me again.”

“Um—”

Katsuki blinked, spotted Soren over Toshinori’s shoulder. The young beta was holding a tea tray in his hands, looking startled. When had he arrived? Katsuki hadn’t heard the door open. Had he been there the whole time?

Toshinori waved him closer. “Leave that here for us. Thank you, Soren.”

Soren did as Toshinori asked, keeping his eyes downcast. There was a sad twist to his lips and when he had finished setting everything up, he glanced up at Katsuki, then quickly away.

“I, um, I’m sorry, Alpha.”

“It’s all right, Soren. Thank you for what you do.” Toshinori paused when Soren didn’t leave.

The beta squirmed, twisting the empty tea tray in his hands. “If I, um, may. Katsuki has been very helpful. For me. I, um. I would be sad. If he….” He couldn’t quite seem to say more.

Toshinori studied him for a moment, then waved him away. “Go on. I’ll call if I need anything else from you.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Soren ducked his head in deference and scurried out, limping slightly. Katsuki watched him go, something swollen in his throat from what he’d said. It was one thing to make a bed for someone, quite another to speak against their alpha.

Katsuki waited to see how Toshinori would react, but he kept his expression passive as he fixed their tea.

“Drink this time. It’ll do you good.” He offered a cup to Katsuki, and this time Katsuki held it close to him, waiting for it to cool. Toshinori did the same.

“Do you want me out or not?” Katsuki asked.

Toshinori closed his eyes. His knuckles were white on the cup in his hands. “I keep thinking about what you did and what you said the night we introduced you to the pack.”

Katsuki tilted his head, remembering the ritual he’d gone through. It had been customary for alphas reaching a certain age to perform such a rite for their leader, and he’d thought it appropriate at the time. Toshinori and the pack’s reactions hadn’t quite been what he’d expected, but he’d carried it out anyway. “What about it?”

“It was startling. What you said. Even offering your blood like that.” He shook his head. “Your people. What were they like?”

Katsuki felt himself bristling. “Just tell me if you want me gone or not.”

“I don’t want you to leave if you don’t want to leave, Katsuki.”

He paused, waiting, trying to tease truth from the alpha’s words. He’d said it with a sigh, exhausted, and Katsuki examined whether the exhaustion came from having to deal with him or because he was simply giving in. Neither quite fit how Toshinori sat there, relaxed and seemingly unbothered. Was he playing a game then?

“Why did you tell me about the other pack taking on rogues, then?” Katsuki asked.

Toshinori smiled at him, eternally patient. “Because you didn’t seem happy here. And you still don’t.”

To this, Katsuki didn’t know what to say.

When he remained silent, Toshinori went on, “I don’t know what your people were like. I simply thought our pack wasn’t a good fit for you.” He paused, then sighed. “This is why Tsunagu usually takes on the rogues. He’s better at figuring all of this out.”

They lapsed into an awkward sort of silence, one where it was clear neither knew what to say next. Unfortunately, their tea was too hot to use it as an excuse to refuse speaking. Katsuki considered taking a big swig anyway, but it would be ridiculous burning his tongue just so he wouldn’t have to say anything. Toshinori, equally, felt the discomfort of the moment, staring uselessly into his mug.

The steam from the tea wafted between them. Katsuki eventually set his aside.

“I don’t want to talk about my pack,” he said.

Toshinori nodded. “If you’re not ready, then it’s okay.”

Katsuki frowned. “It has nothing to do with not being ready. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

The old pack alpha smiled knowingly. He took a tentative sip, grimaced, and set his mug down as well. “The choice to stay or leave is yours. You may stay. I would even go so far as to say that you are very much welcome to stay. My son would be awfully angry at me if I told you to leave.” He chuckled at the mention of Izuku, but all Katsuki could think about was the way his stomach tightened. “Do what you wish with that. As for what happened earlier. I don’t suppose I have to make it clear that outright attacking our guests will not be tolerated.”

“They were antagonizing me,” Katsuki growled. “And they upset Izuku.”

“Upset him?” Toshinori frowned. “How so?”

“They told him what they do to rogues they can’t reform.” He chose to use the word Izuku had, and watched Toshinori stiffen in response. “Keep secrets like that from someone like Izuku, he’s going to find out eventually. And in this case, it hurt him to know you let that happen.”

“It’s not that I—” he trailed off, scratched at the back of his head. A subconscious annoyance, trying to scratch away the guilt he felt, perhaps.

Katsuki didn’t let him stew in such pitiful emotions. “They were going to do the same to me. And now he knows it.”

Toshinori froze. It was different from the last time he’d stiffened, caught in a half-lie. This time, Katsuki saw the familiar bunching of muscles in the alpha’s legs and arms, his shoulders straightening, his head whipping around to face Katsuki. He looked ready to leap into a fight, not like he’d been cowed.

“Who told you that?” He demanded.

“Blond haired freak at their lead. How do you think Izuku found out about what they do to rogues like me?”

“Tsunagu wouldn’t have let that happen to you.”

“How the hell do you know?” Katsuki growled again, aware that he was baring his teeth. Rude, disrespectful, this is why he would be willing to feed you to the wolves. He only clenched his teeth a little harder. “They sent those idiots to represent them. I’d think they might know better than you about their own pack.”

“Tsunagu would not have let them hurt you,” Toshinori said again, this time with steady assurance. He lowered his hand to his lap and relaxed into himself, his readiness to fight ebbing away. “You aren’t like the rogues they’ve had to… do such things to in the past. It’s only happened a couple of times. And only with rogues who simply weren’t compatible with life coexisting with others.” He paused, then said, “You might call them evil.”

“Or you might call them misunderstood,” Katsuki challenged.

He relished the way Toshinori glared back at him. “Rest assured, it had nothing to do with us not understanding. They were dangerous.”

“Like I am?” Katsuki flexed his fingers, feeling sparks between them.

“No, not like you,” Toshinori lowered his voice when he spoke. “More like Alpha, and his pack.”

Katsuki had no reply to this. Alpha and his pack were dangerous. But did he think they deserved to simply be killed? If given the chance, he might kill Jest, yes. But Jest was an active threat. Jest was trying to do harm. If given the choice, would Katsuki simply execute him while he was defenseless?

He liked to think he wouldn’t. But maybe… maybe he wasn’t much better than Jest or Alpha.

“In any case, whether or not Tsunagu would let his pack hurt you, I will certainly not let them hurt you. You’ve proven yourself to be an ally to my pack, even with past transgressions. Even if you choose to go with them, I will ensure no harm comes to you.”

“Even if you told me to leave, I sure as hell would never go with those clowns,” Katsuki growled.

Toshinori chuckled softly. “Well, then. Is that what you would like to do, then? Stay with us?” He made a sweeping gesture. “If you’d rather go with Hitoshi or even Malcus, see what their packs are like, I would vouch for you to their alphas. Whatever would make you happiest.”

Katsuki cut him a glare. “What does happiness have to do with this?”

“You deserve to be happy, Katsuki. Especially after what you’ve been through. But certainly just as a general rule, you deserve happiness. So, we will do what we can to help you find it.”

Katsuki opened his mouth, then closed it. His instinct was to growl and tell Toshinori that it wasn’t his business. To curl up and protect himself, to keep others away. But how long had it been since someone had told him he deserved to be happy? Since they had even cared whether he lived or died, much less if he was happy while doing it?

He swallowed, and reached for his tea again, needing something in his hands. Something to keep him from clenching them too tightly and letting sparks run up his fingers. The warm mug grounded him in the moment, that he was sitting in that council room with the pack alpha of a pack who had taken him in, who had seen he was dangerous and had allowed him to stay close anyway. A pack alpha who told him he deserved to be happy, that he wanted to help Katsuki be happy. Whose son had stood between him and a group who had told him they would simply kill him and be done with him rather than try. That his stomach twisted whenever he thought of that son.

That this was all real. He was really sitting there.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He didn’t want to have to struggle for a place. And, for the first time, he thought maybe he didn’t have to fight for it.

Toshinori must have noticed. He reached across and placed a hand over Katsuki’s wrist. “It’s all right,” he said, and somehow those words gave Katsuki so much relief. He let out a breath, aware it was shaky, as Toshinori’s other hand squeezed his shoulder. “What would you like to do?”

“I want to stay.” Katsuki tried to sound stalwart, steady. Instead, he thought he sounded like a scared pup.

“Then stay.” Toshinori squeezed his shoulder and wrist again, then let him go. “We’ll have a dwelling built for you, to whatever specifications you’d like, wherever you’d like it to be. There aren’t many empty dwellings at the moment, but if there’s one that catches your eye, then we can see to having it given over to you, so long as the previous occupant or their family agrees. You can call that home, if you’d like. Would that be all right?”

Home.

The word didn’t land like a blow this time. This time, Katsuki felt a bit of warmth with it, a familiarity he’d been missing for so long.

But he didn’t want to think about dwellings and where he’d like to live or how. He was too exhausted to think about that at the moment.

“I just want to rest,” he told Toshinori, and he felt a bit of shame in admitting it. “I’m so tired.”

Toshinori nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “We can set your bed up in the dining hall. Let you rest there.”

“Too many people,” Katsuki growled. He paused, then added, “Your pack. It’s bigger than mine was. Or, at least, the village is smaller. Everyone’s so close together.”

“Then we’ll have something set up in here.”

Katsuki blinked, again when Toshinori added, “I’ll be here, with a couple others, but otherwise it will be quiet and safe here for you. While we still have guests in the village, perhaps it’s better for you to stay close to me. They won’t dare to do anything with me nearby. But you’ll be able to find some privacy here.”

Quiet. Safe.

Katsuki listened, hearing the words, letting them slide off his shoulders. He was an alpha. He was supposed to be the one making things quiet and safe for everything else. How often had he gone out onto the plains to hunt for the others? How often had he slipped out during the night because he’d heard an animal close by and wanted to make sure it didn’t come too close? How often had he stepped away from his people, only because he wanted to do something for his people?

Quiet and safe.

The plains he’d grown up on had been quiet, and they had felt safe to him even when he’d been facing danger. He’d known the plains well enough, known the dangers intimately. Even then, he’d felt safe in knowing how to handle the danger. And when the fighting was over, the plains had a quiet song they would sing. The rustling of grasses, the crackle of the wind in his ear. Nothing for as far as the eye could see, a horizon that went off and off and off, until it caught up to the sky.

He hadn’t felt quiet and safe since leaving the plains. The forests were loud and close, with too many corners where danger could be hiding. Dangers he knew nothing about. He hadn’t let himself think about it, but the world around him was so dangerous and he didn’t know how to handle that danger. The echo of animals, mostly birds, calling through the trees, impossible to spot between the branches, had rattled every nerve in his body until he was numb to the feeling. But that hadn’t meant he’d felt safe and quiet, just because he’d grown used to it.

But here? He knew this council room. He knew the people who would come through the door and what they would probably do. Dangers like Touya he knew well enough that he could handle, if needed. And it was quiet here. Nothing but the crackle of the fire, the soft whisper of the village beyond the walls, and maybe the lowered voices of a couple others gathered at the center of the room.

But he was the alpha. He was supposed to be the one making such spaces for everyone else.

He didn’t voice any of this to Toshinori. He wasn’t honestly sure he knew how to put such feelings into words, nor would he want to admit anymore vulnerability at that moment. So he sat there, staring at his tea, watching it go cold.

“Katsuki,” Toshinori said his name the same way he called to any of his other packmates, different from how he used to call it. There wasn’t an inherent question in his voice now, no – who are you? – lingering between syllables. Now it was a firm word, not broken with uncertainty. Katsuki, he called, and Katsuki lifted his head. “If you want to join our pack, then you will have to learn to follow my commands. And you will have to understand what my duty is to the pack. That being, it is my duty to oversee the health and wellbeing of everyone. To make sure they are okay. And that includes you.” He met Katsuki’s eyes, and as if reading the question within, added, “You don’t have to worry. I am the Alpha. I watch over all. No matter who they are.”

It would have been easy for Toshinori to say those words with stifling authority. To claim Katsuki as Alpha had wanted to. But that had never been Toshinori’s way. When he spoke, he did so as the man standing at the front. The one who held the line. The one who faced the dangers first, and kept everyone away from said dangers. Katsuki had been that person before, the one standing in front of everyone else, but when he’d gone out onto the plains, he’d never actually been alone. There had been other hunters who went out as well, even if they did not go together. They had all held that line, individuals standing side by side. In this pack, Toshinori stood alone.

Katsuki didn’t quite know what to do with this thought. But, for now at least, he knew he needed the rest. So when Toshinori called Soren back to bring some bedding, he didn’t resist. Nor did he throw his tea into the fire when Toshinori insisted he drink it. The tea was warm, smooth, different from anything he’d had before. He’d have to ask what herbs they used and where they grow. It smelled sweet.

He let Toshinori guide him for a moment, testing how it felt to obey him, to follow his lead. It was strange, but not unfamiliar. He had followed orders before, after all. And Toshinori was gentle, sometimes more so than the old woman had been. So it was easy to listen to him, to do as he asked, even when what he asked was to let his guard down just a little more.

“Rest,” Toshinori said once the bedding had been set in the corner. “I will be here, with you, should you need anything.”

Katsuki felt a last pang of resistance, of wanting to challenge Toshinori, so he said, “To make sure I don’t do any harm in here.”

Toshinori smiled. “I doubt you would. And I don’t know if I would stop you. But I would be disappointed.”

Disappointed. Something about the word startled him. His mind latched onto it, peeling it apart by each sound – dis-a-point-ed. Why was it so appealing to roll that word around, what about it made his heart swell?

Then, he realized it. Dis-appointed. Inherently a word that meant some expectation had been broken. To be disappointed, you had to have a certain understanding or want for how something would turn out. You couldn’t be disappointed if you had no thoughts about something. Naturally, Toshinori could only be disappointed in him because the pack alpha had a certain expectation for him, and he thought Katsuki would live up to said expectation. If he only expected the worst from Katsuki, could Toshinori say he was disappointed?

Surely he was thinking about it too much. Surely Toshinori didn’t mean to say anything by using that word. Surely Katsuki was just hoping that word meant that Toshinori thought him capable of integrating into their pack, of being one of them peaceably. Surely, surely the word disappointed didn’t mean that Toshinori had thought long enough about Katsuki, and regarded him enough, to even have expectations for him to begin with. Hopes. Wants. The pack alpha wanted something from him.

Yes. He was thinking about it too much. Far too much.

Katsuki shook his head to banish the echo in his mind. “I wouldn’t hurt anyone unless I had to.” He paused, then added, “Or unless you ordered me to.”

Toshinori lowered his chin, a grave expression lowering across his brows. “I would like to say that I would never ask you to hurt someone. But with the threat of Alpha’s pack, I cannot guarantee it. You are strong. We might need to call on your strength to protect our home. If you would lend us your aid.”

“Of course I would,” Katsuki growled, feeling a little slighted. He was a warrior, after all. And perhaps Toshinori didn’t know that he’d been amongst the strongest and most stalwart of his pack, but certainly he could see that Katsuki was more than capable.

“Very well. But for now.” He nodded toward the corner, where the bedding was laid out so painstakingly.

Katsuki eyed it, yearning to curl up within it yet still uncertain if that was the right thing to do. “You’re sure this is okay?”

Toshinori gave him that smile again. “Rest. If I am not here, then someone else will be, in case you need them.”

Katsuki tried to read anything else from what the pack alpha said, but he said it so plainly, without any flourish to his words, nothing that might indicate a double meaning. At face value, he meant what he said. And Toshinori had never done anything to make Katsuki distrust him. He wasn’t even sure the pack alpha was capable of lying.

He realized he was hesitating still. That all this thinking was just a front so he wouldn’t have to make a decision about laying down and resting. Even though that was all he wanted to do. Maybe he was just afraid of being seen as weak. Or maybe he was afraid of what true rest would bring him. Maybe he was afraid of getting too comfortable, and watching everything around him burn away again.

He was tired even thinking about it. Fine. He would rest. If that meant looking vulnerable, fine. If that meant inviting nightmares and memories he didn’t want, fine. If that meant letting himself sink into the village and growing a little too close, well….

He would have to cross that bridge when he got there.

Thoroughly out of excuses, Katsuki rose and went over to the bedding. It was the same he’d slept in the dining hall. He slipped into it easily, nestling down similarly as he had to the burrow he’d found in Kaya’s garden. When he looked up, Toshinori had turned away from him, not quite showing his back but enough to give him privacy. He stared into the fire, clearly thinking, the mug in his hands. Even as Katsuki shifted, Toshinori didn’t look over at him, didn’t check to see if he was okay or to see what he was doing. He was simply there, as he had said he would be.

Then, Katsuki grew quiet. He was warm. Comfortable. Safe. A strange thought, really. He watched Toshinori for a little longer, then closed his eyes. He expected to rest, to slip into a twilight that would be just enough for him to find some peace. Instead, he slid into a deeper pocket of sleep, something farther down that he’d burrowed in some time. At first he resisted, afraid, but the lull of sleep was powerful. In the end, he tucked his head just under the blankets, and he slept, deep and peaceful.

- - -

Izuku hurried into his dwelling, Hitoshi at his back, and stiffened when he remembered he’d laid out his courting robes that morning. Too late, Hitoshi swept in behind him and saw the robes.

He scoffed. “You too?”

Izuku blinked as Hitoshi sunk to his knees at the table, purposefully putting his back to Izuku’s nest. It was polite, in his pack, to do such a thing even as a beta. Izuku took a seat across from him. “Are… are you expected to announce soon?”

Hitoshi frowned. “Expected might be a bit too immediate of a word, but there is always talk. Especially whenever news gets out that I’ve met up with Denki. I’m sure it’ll be unbearable by the time I get back.”

Izuku searched for what he knew about Hitoshi’s pack’s courting rituals. They were similar to his own pack’s, but there were always small variants, particularly around when those connected to the pack alpha were concerned. And besides. Beta courtings were always different to omega courtings.

“Have you spoken to Denki about it?” He asked, though he was unsure if he was close enough to Hitoshi to ask.

If he was offended, Hitoshi didn’t show it. “It’s less about talking to Denki and more about everyone else. People are… less than enthusiastic about me potentially mating to another beta. Especially since he’s not from the pack.”

Ah, right. Hitoshi’s pack wasn’t known for same-secondary-gender relationships. “Do they put a lot of pressure on you too?” Izuku asked.

Hitoshi shrugged. “No more than your pack does to you, I expect.”

Izuku nodded. “And… your father? Does he approve?”

This was clearly the wrong thing to ask. Hitoshi closed his eyes with a tired sigh. “Aren’t I the one who asked to talk with you? My alpha asked me to send a message.”

“Ah, right,” Izuku hurried to smooth over the moment, then frowned when he considered Hitoshi’s words. What did his pack alpha have to say to Izuku? “Should we find my father before you give your message?”

“It was only for you,” Hitoshi said simply.

Izuku nodded, suddenly feeling uncertain. Pack Alphas from other packs didn’t generally wish to only speak with him, but it wasn’t unheard of. It was more that he was young than that it wasn’t done; his predecessor had been quite close to Malcus’s pack alpha before his death. Of all the pack alphas as well, Shota was not known to be particularly friendly with his father. He didn’t suspect Hitoshi of doing any harm to him because of this, but he was still a little wary of what Shota would want to say to him.

His answer came as Hitoshi detached a small wooden box from his belt and placed it in front of Izuku. “You celebrated your nineteenth year, right? It’s tradition in my pack to celebrate the achievement.”

Izuku picked up the box, admiring its beauty. It was long and thin and well crafted, made of a dark wood famously harvested from a grove around the village where Hitoshi lived. Bringing the box close to his face, Izuku caught a waft of the special wood, slightly nutty. His father had a couple of pieces from the same wood, but nothing like the box he held. There were intricate carvings along the sides and down the front, the phases of the moon etched out in painstaking detail.

“It’s beautiful,” Izuku told Hitoshi.

The beta actually cracked a smile. “You should open it.”

Izuku did so, revealing a thin blade within. He knew immediately it was made of flint, mined from the ridge between their territories. Shota’s side of the ridge was known to be more abundant in the mineral than Toshinori’s, but Izuku had seen enough of it to recognize it at just a glance. The blade was slim, light, the blade dark with light striations all down the length. The hilt was dyed black leather wrapped with a wooden cross guard from the same dark wood as the box. A wooden amulet set at the top of the hilt, depicting the sun, paradoxically painted black.

“The eclipsed sun,” Hitoshi explained, “it symbolizes—"

“Unwavering strength,” Izuku completed. Hitoshi seemed surprised, so Izuku explained, “I did do some studying on the other packs. The eclipsed sun represents a light that can overcome any darkness. I thought you only gave it to your strongest alphas?”

“Guess your studies were a bit incomplete.” By way of further explanation, Hitoshi pulled a corded necklace from under his shirt, revealing the same symbol on a pendant. “It’s given to our greatest warriors.” He tucked it back under his shirt as Izuku examined the knife. “It’s mostly ceremonial, so I wouldn’t go stabbing anyone with it. But it’ll cut through almost anything at least once.”

“Brittle but sharp,” Izuku muttered. He set the lid over the box and bowed his head to Hitoshi. “Thank you for this gift, and please pass along my thanks to your father. This is… well I don’t really know what to say.”

“It’s just a coming of age gift. Lot like that coat of yours,” Hitoshi frowned, “and those robes.”

Izuku couldn’t stop himself from glancing to the courting robes. They were sprawled out, taking up so much more space than almost anything else in the dwelling. Something much too big to be ignored.

“When you announce,” Hitoshi started, pausing when Izuku grimaced, “I hope you won’t be insulted if I choose not to participate.”

“Of course not, I understand. You already have someone in mind. I’m happy for you, really.” And he was. He was very happy, and perhaps a little jealous. It might not be easy for Hitoshi to convince his pack of his choice, but at least the choice itself was easy for him.

Something like a smile smoothed the lines in Hitoshi’s face, but it passed quickly. “Do you have someone in mind? I always assumed you would end up with Shoto.”

Izuku felt his own smile creating more lines than smoothing them over. “It’s, uh, still something I’m considering.”

Hitoshi raised a hand in understanding and didn’t press further. “I’ll be returning home soon. Have to warn everyone about this rogue pack. Is it as dangerous as Toshinori warned?”

“More so, I think,” Izuku muttered. He caught a worried look in Hitoshi’s eyes and said, “Be careful on your way home. There might be other rogues out there looking to cause harm.”

“Don’t worry. They won’t see me, much less catch me.” Hitoshi paused. This time, Izuku clearly noticed his staring at the bandages around his neck. “Did they do a lot of harm to you and yours?”

He was being intentionally vague, allowing Izuku the room to be honest. Izuku smiled again. “We’re prepared to face them.”

Hitoshi took the dismissal with a certain amount of grace and just a hint of disappointment, bowing his head to Izuku. “I’ve taken enough of your time. Be well, Aeon. I’m sure we’ll speak again.”

“Be well,” Izuku repeated the phrase, common in Hitoshi’s pack.

The dismissal complete, Hitoshi stood and excused himself, slipping back out into the village and leaving Izuku to his thoughts and the robe spread out over nearly everything he owned.

It didn’t take long for his thoughts to wander, for the events of the day to start replaying in his mind. First, there was Katsuki at the stream, naked and glorious and confident. Then again, later in the morning, his chin held high as he evaluated the newcomers, the slow tilt of his head when Izuku looked at him. And even later, him sprawled in the sunlight, then him snarling at Neito, then him giving himself away, slightly flushed and perhaps even a little panicked. Then the look of shock when Eijiro stepped forward and called him friend.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, and as much as he trusted his father, he needed to see Katsuki again. To ask him if he really wanted to go, if he wanted to stay, if he even knew what he wanted.

Izuku waited long enough for Hitoshi to be on his way, then stood and hurried out into the village himself. He asked around a little and eventually discovered his father was spending the day in the council lodge. Perhaps not particularly unusual, though he had been in there for quite some time, and most people thought he was alone in there. That was the unusual part. Toshinori wasn’t one to hide inside and avoid the village. Unless he was doing something else, he spent his day out with the pack, speaking with them, helping them, doing whatever was needed of him.

A pang of worry hurried Izuku’s steps toward the lodge. “Father?” He called as he slid the door open.

He saw his father immediately, sat quietly by the fire, a tea set beside him. A quick glance showed nothing out of place, and his father even smiled when he saw Izuku. When Izuku opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, he realized Toshinori was not alone in the room.

In the corner, just behind where Toshinori sat, was a nest of blanket, pillows, and other bedding. At first Izuku thought it was simply piled laundry, but then he noticed a small tuft of hair poking out from the pile. He cast a glance to his father, who gestured him closer.

He shut the door and knelt next to Toshinori. “Everything okay?” He kept his voice low.

Toshinori nodded. “Katsuki said he was tired.”

So it was Katsuki. Izuku thought he’d recognized that tuft of hair, but it seemed strange to see the alpha curled up in a nest like an omega. Perhaps not so strange, but a bit unusual at least.

And Katsuki had spoken about being tired. Seems he still hadn’t quite found sound sleep yet. When Izuku examined what he could, the alpha seemed to sleeping well. He hadn’t reacted to Izuku’s presence, so maybe that meant he was sleeping deep enough not to notice.

He bit his lip as he looked over Katsuki, then paused when his father turned to him. “You’ve spoken with Hitoshi?”

Izuku blinked, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised his father knew about that. He told Toshinori about what Hitoshi had given him and Toshinori nodded, clearly unsurprised by this. “I think Hitoshi plans to leave soon,” he added at the end.

Toshinori frowned. “I need to speak with him before he does. Stay here with Katsuki while I’m gone? I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Oh. Of course.” Izuku blinked again as his father rose.

“I won’t be long. I’ll bring more tea as well.” He glanced back over at Katsuki one more time before carefully making his way to the door. He lingered at it a touch too long, though Izuku couldn’t quite read what stayed his hand. Then, he ducked through the doorway and shut it behind him.

Then, they were alone, Izuku and Katsuki.

Although he knew it was impolite, Izuku took the chance to look over Katsuki. He really did remind Izuku of an omega curled up in their nest. Perhaps it wasn’t an uncommon thing in Katsuki’s pack for alphas to have nests, or maybe they had no concepts of nests at all. Izuku thought about asking, then decided it might be rude.

Still, whatever it took for Katsuki to feel safe and get some sleep, he was fine with it.

While examining Katsuki’s piled bedding, Izuku didn’t miss the coat laid over the top of everything. It was large, hollow almost, and deep blue. Izuku knew it was his father’s, had seen Toshinori wearing it earlier that day. Rested over Katsuki’s sleeping form, it faded in with the blankets well enough, but Izuku understood the meaning of its presence.

It was his father, laying a bit of himself over Katsuki. A quiet claim, perhaps, one that might not raise Katsuki’s hackles. A sign of his father’s acceptance of Katsuki.

Izuku found himself breathing a little easier at the sight of it. His alpha had taken Katsuki in. He was one of theirs now.

Smiling to himself, Izuku faced into the fire, lifting his chin to it, letting the warmth lick at his throat. He remembered how Katsuki lifted his chin to Izuku, remembered the long line of his throat, and closed his eyes, letting himself smile into the memory.

Then someone snored from the other corner and Izuku nearly leaped over the fire. He blinked toward the noise and saw a second bundle of cloth, a familiar cloak wrapped around a small beta man. Torino announced his presence with another snore and Izuku shook his head a little, let himself chuckle and seep into the moment.

It was probably better he and Katsuki weren’t alone at the moment, anyway.

Chapter Text

When Katsuki woke up, he knew Izuku was in the room. It wasn’t just the omega’s scent, which washed through the space, a morning mist that cooled and soothed. Izuku had a presence that filled the room just as much as his scent. Katsuki could feel him radiating within the space, even though he was no doubt curled up, his legs tucked under him, his head bowed forward perhaps. Where his scent was soothing and calming, his presence was steady, unrelenting. His was a grounding presence, one that Katsuki could have easily anchored himself to without fear of floating away.

That was probably why Izuku was so alluring to him. It had been a while since he’d been able to anchor himself to anything.

Knowing the omega was there, Katsuki slowly roused himself. He felt Izuku’s attention drawn to him, that steadying presence pressed on his shoulders. Somehow, it wasn’t a weighty sort of feeling, but a freeing one, without judgment. Katsuki pushed himself upright and looked over, finding Izuku exactly where he’d anticipated. Seated by the fire with his hands in his lap and his legs pulled in close. Beyond him, Torino was still snoring in the corner. It might have been tempting to smirk and tease Izuku if they were alone, but Katsuki didn’t think so. Such teasing didn’t feel quite right anymore. Not when just looking at the omega made his entire being roil.

“Good morning,” Izuku spoke quietly so not to disturb Torino. “How are you feeling?”

How was he feeling? Pleasantly tired, still drudging up from a heavy sleep. Hopefully it would go away and the sort of worn-down tired he’d felt before wouldn’t come back. He was also feeling a little uneasy by Izuku’s presence. Not that it wasn’t wonderful to be near Izuku, more that he was uneasy with himself and how Izuku made him feel. That was an admission for another time though, so Katsuki shrugged.

“Fine. Better than before, I guess.”

“You guess?” Izuku prodded. Katsuki glowered at the corner, so Izuku let the topic drop. “Tsunganu’s envoys have gone. As has Hitoshi. So you don’t have to worry about any of them.”

Katsuki rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder, ignoring the fact that he didn’t feel any better with the news. He might not have the other packs to deal with anymore, but he still had this pack. Those within that didn’t trust him greatly outnumbered all the visiting envoys combined. And he knew better how to handle warriors and scouts and wolves than he did disgruntled mothers, fathers, and elders who saw him as nothing but an outsider.

Then again, there had been that crowd watching his confrontation with the wolves. Some of them had stood up for him, encouraged him. But was that because they thought of him as one of theirs or because they didn’t like the wolves?

Hard to tell, and Katsuki didn’t want to pursue that line of thought for fear of what he’d find.

Instead of commenting on that, Katsuki pushed himself out of the bedding and walked over to where Izuku sat. There was a small wooden board laid out in front of him with small stacks of tiles spread out. There was a pattern to them, but Katsuki couldn’t tell what the pattern was supposed to mean.

Izuku followed his gaze. “Do you play?” When Katsuki just blinked at him, Izuku explained, “It’s a game. You can play it by yourself or with others. You lay out the tiles and try to match them up. The person with the most matches at the end wins.”

“What do you win?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku shrugged. “Nothing usually. Though I’m sure some in the pack gamble on it. It’s mostly luck based so probably not a wise idea to bet anything at all.”

Luck, huh? Katsuki’s luck had been pretty rotten recently. Probably best not to test it.

He sat across from Izuku. “Teach me how to play. And we’ll make a bet.”

Izuku gave him a skeptical look. “What would you want to bet on?”

“Questions,” Katsuki answered. He studied the board in front of him, trying to see the patterns there. There was always a pattern to these kinds of games, even if they were mostly luck. You could try to pull luck in your favor if you were clever about it. “Whenever someone gets a match, they get to ask a question and the other person has to answer.”

Izuku still seemed skeptical. “You know we could just have a conversation and not have to worry about trying to get matches to be able to talk?”

“Humor me.” Katsuki grumbled.

Eventually, Izuku shrugged and started explaining the more intricate details of the game. Not every match was worth the same, giving extra turns or points, and some tiles could be used on in a couple different ways. But at its core, it was simple and, yes, mostly luck.

Izuku set up the board and nodded to Katsuki. “You go first.”

Katsuki picked up a tile from a small turned-over stack. He studied the character on it, then laid it out next to another on the board. Izuku smiled up at him. “Well? What’s your question?”

Katsuki collected his match and set them at his feet. “Why did you want me to stay and not go with the wolves?”

Surprise blinked through Izuku’s eyes, replaced quickly by a smile. “Ah. I see now why you wanted to bet on your questions.” He shifted, studying the board in lieu of having to look at Katsuki. “I… well I wanted you to stay here. I don’t know if I trusted the envoys Tsunagu sent.”

“Do you trust Tsunagu?” Katsuki asked, but Izuku raised his hand.

“One question per match, alpha. And it’s my turn now.”

Every single word ran along a nerve in Katsuki’s spine. He wanted to snarl in delight and bare his teeth in acknowledgement. Alpha, Izuku had called him, and even though Katsuki knew he had been joking, his joints felt loose in pleasure at being called at all.

Izuku made his move with a bit more care, resulting in only one match but in the process setting up a rather difficult board for Katsuki on his next turn. His smile held a bit more bite than usual as he set his match aside. “Tell me. Do you want to stay with us?”

“Yes.” Katsuki picked up his next tile, grimacing when he realized it wouldn’t match with anything. “That was a waste of a question, you know.”

“If I’d thought it would be a waste, I wouldn’t have asked.” He looked very pleased with himself. More so when Katsuki conceded to no match by placing his tile face up in front of him. Izuku picked up another tile and scanned the board, matching it quickly. Katsuki grudgingly admitted it probably hadn’t been very smart to bet on a game Izuku had probably been playing for most of his life.

His match set aside, Izuku turned that scrutinizing look to Katsuki. “If you want to stay with us, why are you resisting so much?”

Ah. Clever little bastard. He’d set those questions on purpose, knowing he’d be able to get two matches in a row.

Katsuki glowered. “I’m not resisting.”

“You definitely are.”

“It’s not simple joining a pack. Unless you’ve joined a pack before, then maybe you can give me some advice.” He glared hard until Izuku squirmed, conceding his point. “I don’t know how to do it. But I know I want to join this one.”

“All right.” Izuku cleared his throat. “Your turn.”

Katsuki picked up a tile. He glared down at board and realized he couldn’t make another move, setting a second tile aside with a growl. Izuku didn’t move at first, then reached across the board to tap at an upturned tile just to Katsuki’s side. Katsuki stared, then realized he could make a match. He made it, glancing up at Izuku after he did.

“You do know it’s in your best interest not to help me.”

“Well that’s not true at all. One day, you might help me make a match of my own.”

There was something in the way he said it that made Katsuki pause, only for a breath, before he moved on. “Tsunagu. What do you know about him? Do you trust him?”

“I’ll ignore that that was two questions again,” Izuku smiled. Damn he was a stickler. “He’s been a pack alpha for a while now. He’s not the longest serving alpha by far, but he’s not the youngest either. I’ve met him once or twice, but not for very long. Far as I can tell, he’s a well-meaning person. And yes, I do trust him. Just, uh, maybe not his pack members.”

“Seems strange you would put your trust in him when his pack seems so unruly. And, you know, kills people from time to time.”

Izuku grimaced. “Every pack kills someone from time to time,” he said. Katsuki stashed this little piece of information away. “All the other times I’ve had interactions with his pack, they’ve been very kind and considerate. These envoys were just young. Enthusiastic.”

Katsuki clucked his tongue. “Ever considered they’re kind and considerate to you only because you’re the aeon?”

Izuku narrowed his eyes. “One question at a time.”

Katsuki waved a hand in defeat as Izuku picked up a tile. He studied the board, then made his match.

“In the forest, why did you save me?”

Katsuki looked up. Izuku stared right back, unphased by the suddenness of his question, by the silence between them. But of course, he was the one who had asked. He had no reason to be shocked.

The intensity of his gaze shook Katsuki, and he had to look away. “There’s… there’s not a good answer to that question.”

“You’re the one who wanted to play the game this way. So answer it.”

“I don’t know why.”

Izuku scoffed. “You must have had a reason. Why would you betray your friends otherwise?”

“Ha,” Katsuki set his teeth against the laugh. “Let’s be clear about something. They were not my friends.”

Something in his tone had Izuku leaning away. Something startled crossed his eyes and Katsuki ducked his head, suddenly ashamed. “I don’t have an answer for you. I just… there was something about you. Something about that night, or about Alpha’s orders. I didn’t think about it. I just did it. It was… instinct more than anything else. I made a choice, yes, but I would have made that choice the same way every single time. It wasn’t a choice to me. It was simply what I had to do. And I can’t explain it more than that.”

His answer faded into silence, an uneasy sort of quiet. For a long time, Izuku just sat there and Katsuki stared down at the board, willing the moment to pass.

Then, “That’s not a very good answer.”

“I told you it wasn’t going to be.”

“What would they have done to me? If you hadn’t saved me?”

Katsuki clenched his teeth. “One question at a time,” he growled, and Izuku leaned back, letting the moment slip away.

When Katsuki had made his next match, he asked, “What are your favorite types of gifts?”

The question startled Izuku silent. “What?” He eventually said.

“Gifts. What gifts do you like?”

“I, uh…,” Izuku blinked at Katsuki, then narrowed his eyes. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you made a bet, and you lost.” Katsuki allowed himself a grin, relishing in how Izuku’s lips twitched, wanting to growl back at him. “Now answer my question.”

Izuku sat there for a moment longer, then purposefully drew himself up. “I enjoy small sweets. Little trinkets and treasures. But mostly I don’t collect gifts. I’d rather be gifted time with someone than anything else.”

“Time, huh?” Katsuki looked over the board, still laid out between them. The pieces lined up so carefully were running low. Their game was almost over.

“Yes. But you should know that it isn’t proper to simply give someone a gift. Usually we give gifts as a collective.”

“Kaya gave me these clothes,” Katsuki said plainly.

Izuku lowered his chin, but something in the gesture was reprimanding. “Kaya is an elder of our village. If she gifted you something, it is because she expects something in return. If you haven’t given her something yet, I suggest you stop asking me what I want and start figuring out something that would please her.”

“Well that seems unfair,” Katsuki grumbled, “she didn’t tell me it was an exchange.”

“It’s just what is expected.” Izuku narrowed his eyes. “People just gave things away to one another, without being intimate partners, in your pack?”

Katsuki couldn’t stop himself from snapping his teeth together. “You haven’t made your match yet, omega,” he said, and realized too late that had been a mistake.

Izuku bared his teeth and let out a low rumble that was clearly not playful or simply annoyed. It was something akin to the growl Toshinori had given the wolves when they’d first entered the village. In the corner, Torino stopped snoring and shifted at the sound, though when it faded his snoring resumed, unimpeded.

As the sound faded, Katsuki lowered his chin and his gaze, as he’d learned was the most respectful thing to do here. He was certain it wasn’t enough, but he didn’t know anything else and he thought his own pack’s customs, where he would have lifted his chin and bared his throat and held his hands palm-open before him, wouldn’t have helped the situation.

The moment hung between them, a razor-thin line between fury and annoyance, then Izuku huffed and shifted, picking up his next tile. Katsuki took it as a sign that the moment had passed and glanced up, seeing the annoyance etched into Izuku’s brow. Whatever he’d done, either snapping his teeth or calling him ‘omega,’ had crossed some line he would have to be careful to avoid. He had to get control of himself or he risked just making Izuku mad at him again.

But it was frustrating, not knowing what he’d done to make the omega angry, and clearly Izuku was planning to just let the moment go without explaining what he’d done wrong. Was it Izuku’s duty to tell him? Or was it Katsuki’s to seek out the proper customs?

He chewed on this thought, then as Izuku examined the board, asked, “What would Kaya like from someone like me?”

Izuku wrinkled his nose. “There are flowers that grow nearby she’s fond of. You could ask the next hunting party to look for them for you.”

“Or I could go with them,” he offered. When Izuku didn’t react, Katsuki added, “I was a hunter for my pack. One of the best.”

Izuku set his tile face up in front of him, giving up on making a match. “Your prey was probably different from what we hunt here, right?”

Well, that was true.

Katsuki rubbed the back of his head and picked up his next tile. “I’ll think of something.”

Izuku nodded, seemingly mollified by the path of the conversation. “Kaya will be fair to you. She is always fair.”

“Would have been better if someone had told me beforehand.” He paused, frowning. “Your father has given me so much. He wants to give me a dwelling. What would I have to offer in return to him?”

Izuku reached across the board to grab Katsuki’s hand and tilt it downward, inspecting his tile. He placed it on the board, making a match. “The dwelling will be a gift from the pack. A collective gift. In return, you’ll simply be expected to participate in the pack, either by taking up a trade or becoming a warrior. That is why gifts are usually given by the collective. So long as we are all giving back to the pack, we can receive from the pack without fear of taking too much.” He picked up his own tile, examined the board, eyes sparkling. There were only four more matches to make. “As for my father, it’s different for him. You repay him by being kind to his pack. In a way, I think he is actually trying to repay you.”

Katsuki blinked. “What for?”

“For saving my life, of course.” Izuku looked up at him. “It may be something he’ll always be trying to pay you back for, so you’ll have to tell him when he’s given enough.”

“He doesn’t have to pay me back for that. That’s ridiculous,” Katsuki grumbled.

Izuku twisted the tile in his hand, clearly thinking. “It’s the tradition, driven deep in his bones. He won’t stop giving to you until he thinks he’s paid back the worth of my life. So don’t tell him to stop until he’s given a fair share for what I’m worth! Don’t sell me short,” he puffed out his cheeks, clearly trying to look mockingly angry.

It was strange, to think about, how Izuku had gone from being deeply insulted to now playing with him again. How quickly Izuku had forgiven his transgression. Katsuki wasn’t sure why he had, or if he had even noticed. But he was grateful to know Izuku was willing to tease him again, that he had not done irreparable harm to whatever was between them.

Because he wasn’t sure how his words were going to effect that relationship. “I think your father and I agree that there is nothing that could come close to matching the worth of your life.”

Something startled in the omega. He felt the words before he registered them, his cheeks deflating and his body slumping before he blinked in realization of what Katsuki had said. Another tense moment started creeping between them, but Katsuki didn’t let it linger, dropping his gaze to the board and telling him, “Nor would I ask something of him for such a thing. It wouldn’t be right, to ask to put a price on you. Even a theoretical one. Whether that offends you or not, I won’t be swayed by that. So your father can stop trying to repay me, or whatever. I don’t want to be owed for saving your life. Being able to sit and play this stupid game with you is enough.”

Silence again. Luckily, it was broken by the crescendo of snoring from the corner of the room, where Torino was still napping.

Eventually, Izuku cleared his throat. “Well. That was. Uh. Very kind of you to say. It almost makes me feel bad doing this to you in turn.” He placed his tile down, making a match. Katsuki frowned, realizing he’d just made a match that let him make a second one, which Izuku did with the tile he’d set aside. That match let him pick up a second tile from the face down pile, which he glanced at, then made a third match on the board.

He'd done that on purpose. With a bit of luck, maybe. But still. He had three matches, three questions he could ask.

Katsuki sat back as Izuku studied him, something sad in his face. He tried to smile, as if to ease some pain, but it faded quickly. “What were—” he swallowed, steadied himself with a breath, “what were your parents’ names?”

Katsuki stilled. He clenched his jaw to stop himself from snapping his teeth. The walls felt suddenly pressed in around him, trapping him too close to Izuku, giving him no way out. If he had wanted, he could tell Izuku he wouldn’t answer such a question, and he knew Izuku would let it go. He could see it in the somber downturn at the corner of his mouth, the way he’d said the words with a great deal of effort.

“My mother was Mitsuki. My father was Masaru.”

Izuku didn’t let the question linger. “Did you have siblings?”

“No.”

“Did you—” Izuku swallowed again. Something was swelling in his eyes, though he kept it back with practiced ease. “Did you get to say goodbye to them? Bury them?”

Katsuki ran a hand over his face. “No. Too busy not dying and running.”

“Would you like to? We can, um, perform certain rites. If that would… help.”

Katsuki examined the board in front of him. He took up his last tile, hoping his luck was good for once. “Bodies were charred from the fire. What wasn’t ash would have been eaten by scavengers. That’s how my mom would have wanted it. She liked vulture-picked bones.” He decided not to linger on that thought, placing his tile on the last match. “Last question.”

Izuku nodded. “Go ahead. I, uh, guess you have the right to ask literally anything you want after that.”

Katsuki shoved the board aside, the movement perhaps a bit more aggressive than he had wanted it to be. If Izuku was startled, he held it together quite well, simply sitting up a little straighter, holding his breath. He was good at feigning control. Katsuki wondered how long he’d had to practice that.

In the open space between them, Katsuki lowered his head, showing the back of his neck, his palms pressed into the floor. “Could you forgive me for what I did to you in the forest? For what Alpha sent me to do? For what I would have done to your packmate if you hadn’t appeared? Could you ever forgive me for being so damn gullible?”

Katsuki waited for judgment, as he had when he’d bared his neck to Toshinori. He couldn’t see Izuku’s reaction to his request. All he could do was wait.

Then, “You only had one question left.”

Katsuki set his teeth. “Could you forgive me?”

“And you called my question a waste.”

Katsuki felt a hand on his head, just as he had with Toshinori. Izuku’s touch was featherlight and succulent. He swore every strand of hair reached out to twine between his fingers. Then, it was gone.

“Sit up and ask me a real question.”

Katsuki did as he was ordered. Izuku was smiling at him, and there was nothing forced in the expression. Even the tears dotting his lashes felt somehow joyous. Katsuki resisted the urge to reach across and wipe them away.

“If I can’t give you a gift, then is there something else that I could do to make you happy?”

Izuku blinked, startled again, and let out a breathy laugh. “Well, I mean, if you really feel the need.” He tilted his head, thinking, and smiled again, “How about you join me to find some food. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

Katsuki’s stomach clenched in reply, but he knew it wasn’t because of the mention of food. He closed his eyes, steadied himself, then nodded. “Whatever you want, shula,” he said, and when Izuku’s face flushed pink, he sighed.

When he stood to follow the omega, he noticed how he didn’t feel the least bit tired anymore.

Chapter Text

Outside the council lodge, Shoto was seated by the door as if on guard duty. As soon as Katsuki appeared behind Izuku, he stood. Once, the movement may have been sharp, a response to a threat. Now, it was smooth and easy. There was nothing tense in the way Shoto moved, even when Katsuki came to stand next to Izuku.

“Good morning,” Izuku said, then squinted up toward the sun. “Or, afternoon I suppose. You haven’t been out here all morning, have you?”

Shoto dipped his head in greeting. “Not all morning.”

“Did my father send you?” Izuku tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. His father had been the one to tell him to watch over Katsuki, with Torino there in the room. If he had still felt the need to send Shoto to watch over everything, clearly he didn’t trust either his son or Katsuki, or Torino for that matter.

Thankfully, Shoto shook his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, you could have joined us,” Izuku said, though Katsuki stiffened at his side. Thinking on it, he realized it might have been a tad awkward if he had.

Shoto’s eyes slid to Katsuki. “I was fine waiting out here.”

In the next moment, something flickered between them. Before, it had been animosity, distrust. Shoto had been searching for proof that Katsuki intended to attack and Katsuki had been waiting for Shoto to do the same. There was still some of that, a slight dipping of the shoulders toward one another, a ghost of a fighter’s stance set in their feet. But there was something else as well. Two alphas ordering themselves in the hierarchy.

Naturally, Shoto would rank higher than Katsuki, both as a born member of the pack and also as the son of one of the pillars. One day, Shoto would be in a position to possibly take his father’s place as the pillar, or even join as Izuku’s mate and become the Alpha. Everyone knew that, and treated him with the proper deference without question. There wasn’t usually a thought to where Shoto stacked in the ranks.

Something told Izuku that wasn’t how Katsuki’s pack had worked. Thus, this strange moment between them, where Shoto waited for Katsuki to dip his head and Katsuki sized Shoto up.

Izuku was tempted to ask how such things had worked in Katsuki’s pack, but even the mention of his past made Katsuki’s hackles raise still. It wasn’t worth causing him pain just to satisfy his curiosity. Nor did Izuku particularly want to explain the intricacies of his own pack’s hierarchy right in front of Shoto, so he cleared his throat to claim the moment.

As soon as their eye contact broke, both Shoto and Katsuki relaxed. So long as Izuku could keep them from engaging in a glaring contest, he could probably keep the peace between them. “Katsuki and I were going to get something to eat. You should join us, Shoto.”

Shoto dipped his head again. “Of course,” he said, and Katsuki grumbled something in mild protest.

Izuku placed himself between the alphas, leading the way toward the dining hall. They chatted amicably enough, though Izuku was aware that he spoke the most by far. Even as they walked, Izuku didn’t sense any growing animosity between the alphas. There was discomfort, yes. Neither Shoto nor Katsuki knew what to do with the other, but they were at least willing to be cordial.

Izuku could work with that.

They found the dining hall nearly empty, with only a small family crowded around the central fire, laughing together. The family bowed and whispered, “Shula,” as they passed, but didn’t react otherwise to their presence. Katsuki stiffened slightly, but when nobody paid him any mind, he relaxed. Izuku felt something in his chest loosen, and he led the two up to where his family always sat.

The head of the dining hall was empty and cold, so Shoto went to fetch Soren for them.

Once he was gone, Katsuki tapped his finger on the table. “Soren does a lot for your family.”

“He does. He’s a wonderful help.” Izuku sensed there was something in Katsuki’s words, but he couldn’t decipher what it was.

Katsuki clicked his tongue. “How did he come to serve you?”

Izuku laughed, a little startled. “He doesn’t serve us. At least, not like I think you’re saying. Several years ago, he asked to help my father since he’s not really a fighter or a hunter, and he doesn’t have the patience to be a fisher. He said he wanted to contribute to the pack more, so my father asked him to help me and my mom at first, then Soren took over other duties as time went on. Now, he’s the only person my father lets watch over us. Soren’s the most important pack member, really.”

“So… he’s not a servant?”

“Um, no. Not quite.” Izuku chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Did, uh… did your pack have servants?”

“Of a sort.” Katsuki tilted his head toward the entrance a couple heartbeats before Soren and Shoto stepped into the dining hall. “Criminals or mischief makers were often forced to serve whoever they harmed as punishment.”

“Oh, uh. That’s not… quite how we do things here.” Izuku didn’t really want to imagine forcing one of his pack members to serve him as part of a punishment. “If you’ve done something wrong, we have a trial before the entire pack and the transgressor is asked to repay whatever debts he’s incurred for his crimes.”

“What if they killed someone?”

Izuku stiffened, glancing to see if anyone was close enough to hear, but only Shoto had narrowed his eyes. Probably more in response to Izuku’s reaction than hearing anything. “That’s an extreme case.”

“It happens though.” Katsuki surveyed him. “Let me guess. You’d exile them. Make them a rogue.”

“That would be an option.” Izuku tried to keep his voice steady as Shoto and Soren joined them.

Conversely, Katsuki acted as if he hadn’t noticed. “So that’s why people distrust me so much. They think I must be a murderer. And they’d be right.”

Soren stiffened and Shoto swayed, something dangerous in the tilt of his head. Izuku took a breath to steady himself, to keep calm even as the tension between everyone pulled. Katsuki was challenging him, and didn’t really care who was there to witness it. If he had to guess, Izuku thought he must relish the fact Shoto and Soren had been there to hear him say it. But there wasn’t glee in his words. No, it was something else.

Pain perhaps, but even that didn’t seem quite right.

“Why do you do that?” Izuku asked.

“Do what?” Katsuki replied.

Izuku paused as Soren laid out a tea set in front of them. He moved a little slower around Katsuki, and the alpha noticed, his eyes sharp and focused, tracing the shaky path of Soren’s hand.

“You remember when I said you were resisting joining the pack? This is what I meant.” Izuku caught a startled look from Soren and smiled, hoping it would relax him. “You aren’t a murderer. You killed in defense of your pack.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t murder people.”

“There are people here who have killed in defense of our pack,” Izuku glanced toward Shoto. The alpha had relaxed a little, but kept an eye on Katsuki. “Shoto’s brother has.”

He didn’t startle at his name, nor did he react when Katsuki swung toward him, his challenge laid at the alpha’s feet. Instead, Shoto shrugged. “Once, yes. Touya doesn’t like to talk about it. Neither does my father.”

“Your father’s killed someone, then?” Katsuki half-growled.

Shoto finally looked away to accept a plate from Soren. “No, he hasn’t. But he wishes he had, so Touya wouldn’t have had to.”

Katsuki closed his mouth.

In the silence, Izuku quietly said, “Jasmine, Soren, please. If you don’t mind.”

“Yes, Aeon,” Soren replied. He still didn’t quite turn his back to Katsuki, so he noticed when the alpha turned toward him.

Immediately, Izuku felt himself bristling. He and Shoto could take Katsuki’s challenges. They were used to facing challenges and putting people back in their place. Soren was sweet and kind, and nobody would have ever challenged him. No matter how frustrated or angry or hurt he might be, Katsuki had no right to bully Soren. If need be, Izuku would stop him.

But the moment after Katsuki opened his mouth, his face softened, and he hesitated. “You… you vouched for me. To Toshinori.”

“Uh, yes… I did.” Soren made himself busy with the tea, clearly uncomfortable with facing Katsuki.

Katsuki seemed to notice, and gave him the grace to wait until he calmed down a little, for when the tea was stewing and everyone was still quiet. “You regret doing that now?”

Soren blinked. “No. Why would I regret it?”

To that, Katsuki had nothing to say. He closed his eyes, and the challenge between them all faded away.

Izuku released the breath he’d been holding. “Why don’t you surprise us, Soren? Make whatever you’d like.”

“Of course, shula.” Soren brightened at the suggestion, standing to fetch ingredients for their lunch.

Once he was gone, Izuku sighed. “I don’t know why you keep wanting to make this so hard. Why do you keep challenging everyone?”

Katsuki glowered at the corner of the room. Izuku hadn’t been expecting an answer, so he was surprised when Shoto spoke instead, “You’re pushing as much as you can, waiting for when we throw you out.” Katsuki cut a glare at Shoto, who didn’t seem to notice. “That’s not going to happen, but people might get frustrated if you keep doing that.”

“If you want to leave, then you can leave. Otherwise, we aren’t going to force you to leave.” Izuku tried to catch Katsuki’s eyes, but could barely see his face with how he was turned away. “We aren’t that cruel, Katsuki. Don’t you know that by now?” Katsuki closed his eyes, said nothing.

Soren returned soon after to start cooking. As he did, Katsuki watched with interest, skimming over the ingredients and glaring at how Soren prepared their meal. While Soren served them tea, Katsuki asked him a few questions about what he was doing, listening closely as Soren explained everything in perhaps too much detail. Katsuki didn’t seem to mind.

While they spoke, Shoto leaned toward Izuku. “You don’t look well.”

Izuku hid a grimace in his tea, then swallowed thickly. “Just didn’t sleep well. Lot going on with everyone coming in and out of the village. And with what’s out in the forest.” He lowered his voice, leaning toward Shoto to say, “We don’t know what Alpha is doing. If his pack is even still in the area. Unless you have an update?”

“None.” Shoto clearly wasn’t pleased to admit it. “It’s strange. A pack that size shouldn’t be able to hide as well as it is. But we haven’t found any clues to them being in the area.”

Izuku drank from his tea again. Soren had gone back to cooking and Katsuki was trying to glean what they were talking about, his head tilted toward Izuku. “Maybe they’ve just left,” he finished, hoping that would be the end of it.

Shoto seemed to understand the conversation was over, replying with a noncommittal noise as he drank his tea. Katsuki glared between the two before inspecting his own tea.

“Must be good stuff,” he commented, then cut a glare toward Izuku. Izuku ducked his head into his cup again, then realized that was exactly what Katsuki had been commenting on.

“So, uh,” he set his cup aside as far as he could without being rude, then cleared his throat, “have you thought about what you want your dwelling to be like?”

Katsuki shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Surely you’ve thought about it a little bit?” Izuku pressed, but Katsuki waved his comment away.

“Where I come from, you didn’t get to just ask for a special home to be built for you. I’ll take anything.”

“The pack will want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Shoto said.

“I’m comfortable wherever.” There was a deliberate pause, a moment where Katsuki clearly remembered something. Then, with reluctance, he added, “Just need a quiet place. Don’t really care what that place is. Just quiet.”

Shoto shared a quick look with Izuku, both of them nodding to the other. “We can work with that.”

Izuku added, “What was your dwelling like?”

“I shared it. With my family and another family.” Katsuki grimaced. “Loud, gross little pups. Always in my way.” Something anguished passed over him, a startled look following as if even Katsuki were surprised by the emotion. In a softer voice, he added, “Our homes were bigger than what you have here. Communal. But that wasn’t really my style. I usually slept outside anyway.”

Izuku and Shoto shared a look, but neither of them knew what to say. Katsuki only let the pause in conversation go for a couple beats. “Anyway. That’s not a priority right now. Alpha’s still out there. He’ll make his move eventually and when he does, I want in on the action.”

“You want to fight,” Izuku tried to make it sound less like a question and more like a statement.

Katsuki shot a glare toward him while Shoto shrugged. “Understandable. And we’ll need all the warriors we can find. If you want to fight, then I’m sure there will be a place for you.”

Katsuki switched his glare to Shoto, as if expecting him to say more. When he didn’t, Katsuki said, “Glad there’s something we can agree on.” Shoto grunted in reply. There came again something between them, something strained but not quite as aggressive as before. They were still trying to see where they stood next to each other.

Izuku could only stand it for a moment. “So, uh. Let’s not talk about Alpha right now. Not over food at least.”

Katsuki gestured to the empty table in front of them, but didn’t argue the subject further. For his part, Shoto just finished his tea and set it aside, waiting for when Soren would notice and make a fresh pot.

“I’d be curious to know your fighting style, Katsuki.”

It wasn’t a completely unexpected topic, but the light tone of Shoto’s voice clearly caught Katsuki off guard. “Why?”

“We were all trained the same. So I’d be curious to know how you trained. How you fight.” There it was again. A bit of challenge between them.

Izuku held his breath, expecting Katsuki to bristle. Instead, the alpha grinned.

He leaned toward Shoto. “Scared you’d lose in a fight?”

Shoto glowered. “No. That’s not what’s important. And besides. I doubt you’d be able to keep up.”

Sensing the heightened tension, Izuku opened his mouth to speak, to say literally anything to draw attention. He had to keep the peace between the alphas. Letting them go to blows in the dining hall would be disastrous on so many levels.

Then, Katsuki laughed and Izuku paused. There wasn’t anything defensive in his laugh, nothing too aggressive. The challenge still laid between them but Katsuki was baring his teeth at Shoto and glaring slit-eyed at the other alpha the same way he’d looked the night of the Moon.

He was having fun.

“Tell you what. I’ll give you some stories about how I was trained. And you tell me some about yours. And we’ll see just who had a tougher time.”

Shoto scoffed. “That would be a waste of time. My father’s training was rigorous and brutal.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “My mother told me my training was only finished when I could divert the flow of the river.”

Shoto paused.

Izuku glanced between them, sensing something else rising between them. It was like a challenge, though perhaps not quite as intense. He sat back, realizing he had no place in whatever was going on between them, especially when Shoto tilted his head toward Katsuki.

“My father didn’t teach me to divert the flow of the river. He taught me to stop it.”

Katsuki hissed gleefully. Shoto turned to face him. And Izuku suddenly knew it was all going to be okay.

- - -

At the end of it, Katsuki grudgingly had to admit that Shoto wasn’t all that bad. And the food was excellent. Soren had made some sort of soup that settled like a still lake in his stomach. It invited him to sit back, to let his shoulders drop a little. And for once, he was okay with doing just that.

He and Shoto had settled on the fact that they would only be able to prove whose training was superior with a duel. At first, Katsuki was afraid such a thing would be taken badly but even Izuku seemed pleased by the conversation. Although he didn’t contribute much, he smiled and listened and drank his tea with an air of quiet contentment. Katsuki wasn’t the only one to relax into the meal.

Even Shoto seemed more settled than before, though it was hard for Katsuki to tell with him. Still, Katsuki didn’t sense any animosity between them anymore. He could look at the other alpha without wanting to snarl at least. It was progress enough for Katsuki to tip his head back and let out a long breath.

“Thank you for the food. It was excellent,” Izuku was saying to Soren.

Soren preened. “I’m glad, shula! It’s one of my favorites.”

“Have you made it for my father? I think he would enjoy it.”

“I, uh, was worried he might think it was too… simple for someone like him.”

Katsuki scoffed, tipping his head so he could face the beta. “If he has a problem with something like this, then he doesn’t deserve the privilege of eating it.”

Shoto bristled immediately, though the tension faded when Izuku laughed. “I’m sure he’ll love it,” he told Soren.

As the beta started cleaning up, refusing any help from the alphas and Izuku despite their protestation, Izuku rose. “Let’s take a little walk. It’ll feel nice after the meal.”

Katsuki had half a mind to refuse, but thought better of it. He was just starting to be accepted into the pack. It wouldn’t be wise to start refusing the whims of their beloved aeon. And, when he really thought about it, he was okay with spending some more time with Shoto and Izuku.

Izuku took the lead again, the alphas a step behind him on either side. Katsuki instinctually took the position of a guard, as he had with the old lady in his own pack, though he could tell that such guards weren’t really a thing for this pack. Shoto had been Izuku’s shadow, but not quite with the same level of discipline. If either Izuku or Shoto noticed how he was acting, they didn’t comment.

In fact, they were rather wrapped up talking about a nearby ridge and how Izuku wanted to find some time to go there to have fun, with Shoto telling him now wasn’t the best time, but someday they would camp there. Katsuki let them have the conversation, comfortable with just following in the omega’s heels, listening.

It was, perhaps, the only reason he realized something was wrong.

He felt a familiar prickle up the back of his neck. A glance around showed nothing out of place, but still, he felt eyes on him. Someone was watching them.

Although he looked around, he knew he probably wouldn’t find anyone. It was surely the scout again, watching as he had during the confrontation with the wolves. He hadn’t had the guts to make an appearance, but Katsuki had felt him watching then as well. If he was content to just watch, probably gathering information for his own pack, then fine. Katsuki kept his face neutral and said nothing, gave nothing away.

Then, he stopped, frozen.

He remembered, quite suddenly, that the scout had already left. That all the envoys for the other packs had left.

Katsuki tilted his head up and opened his mouth, his senses filling immediately. The forest was damp, earthy. The air was almost still where they stood. Mostly, he smelled Izuku and Shoto, their scents pooled around him. He kept waiting for a breeze to drag new scents to him, but instead, all he got were hints of the village around him, little threads that he didn’t quite recognize enough to put a name to. Nothing seemed out of place. But something was.

“Katsuki?” Izuku had stopped a few paces up. “Everything okay?”

Katsuki closed his mouth and licked his lips. He still couldn’t smell anything unusual. A quick scan of the area showed nothing out of place. Nothing that snagged his attention. Even that felt suspicious.

Or maybe he was thinking about it too much. Maybe he was letting the confrontation with the wolves get to him. He hadn’t noticed being overly tense about it, but he had been overly tense in general for many weeks at that point.

“It’s fine,” he said, taking a step toward Izuku. That step led him into the shadow of the dining hall, Katsuki glaring hard at it. He still wasn’t used to there being so many random shadows everywhere. He’d give anything for a large patch of sunlight to bask.

He glanced up, hoping to find the sun through the trees, and saw the figure silhouetted from the rooftop. An indistinct form, but it seemed like a person. A guard, then? They were standing on the roof of the dining hall, after all. Perhaps it wouldn’t be strange to have guards posted on the roof.

The trees rustled overhead and Katsuki opened his mouth again, and nearly snarled.

The thinnest thread of a scent. A splinter, more than anything else. But it was enough. He knew that scent.

Jest.

Katsuki sucked in a breath, heard Shoto and Izuku react behind him, felt as they, too noticed the figure on the rooftop.

Something glinted in the light and without thinking, Katsuki ducked. He heard the whistle of something spinning through the air, then a sharp yelp and Izuku’s pained cry.

“Shoto!”

The alpha stumbled back, a knife lodged deep in his shoulder, Izuku going to help him.

Katsuki whipped back toward Jest, blinked when he saw the rooftop empty. Mouth open, he searched for Jest, his senses flooding with stimulus. It was almost overwhelming. Izuku’s pained cry had turned into a snarl of fury, and Shoto was breathing deeply to try to control the pain, and the pack was slipping quickly toward panic as they realized something had happened. In the rush of scents and sounds, Katsuki’s head swam. Out on the plains, he’d had to hone his abilities to pick up even the slightest change. Now, he was standing in the middle of a storm and he felt the pressure in his head increase to a steady throb.

And Jest. Where was Jest?

He looked up, seeing a swirl of colors and movement. He opened his mouth to search for Jest’s scent. It came strong and sudden, close.

Katsuki twisted and thrust his palm outward, felt a hand take his wrist.

His world collapsed inward at the touch, to the scorpion smile on Jest’s face. The beta was close, his face inches away. Too close to use his blessing. Fine.

Katsuki snapped forward, sinking his teeth deep into Jest’s arm. The beta hissed and jerked back, his smile startled. It was just enough distance for Katsuki to let go and press his palm straight into the beta’s chest. With a thunderous noise and a spat of smoke, Jest went flying back, crashing into the walls of the dining hall. He landed on his feet, but stumbled a few steps.

Katsuki took a breath. The pack was reacting around him, but he did his best to shut it out. To focus only on Jest. Although he wasn’t sure exactly what Jest was capable of doing, he was a threat. A threat that had to be taken care of.

So focused as he was, he nearly missed when Izuku tried to barrel past Katsuki, snarling madly. Katsuki only just put an arm out to stop him.

“Don’t,” Katsuki warned.

Although Izuku stopped, his eyes were slits staring into Jest, his lips peeled back. He was shaking, hardly able to contain himself. The blade in his hand quivered. Katsuki couldn’t tell if it was because he was furious or nervous.

Jest surveyed the scene carefully, then pressed back against the wall. Katsuki readied for a retaliation, stepping in front of Izuku despite the omega’s snarls. There wouldn’t be much time before the other warriors in the village would gather to the site of the commotion. If Jest was going to make a move, it would be now.

However, he only pressed himself against the wall, as if he could force his way through the solid wood. And, slowly, he did. His body slid into the wall like passing through water. Realizing Jest was getting away, Katsuki launched himself forward, reaching for Jest and crashing into the empty wall.

There wasn’t enough time to be angry at Jest’s escape. Katsuki ran for the door, hoping no one was inside the building, hoping that Jest would be standing there, somewhere Katsuki could catch him before he could escape. Hoping that he hadn’t just disappeared entirely.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end before he could reach the door, that same feeling of being watched. He skidded to a halt and looked up, but the roofs around them were empty. Behind him, the pack was gathering around Shoto and Izuku. Izuku was worrying over Shoto, who looked more annoyed than hurt, though he was bleeding enough to be concerning.

Then, Shoto’s head jerked up. Katsuki felt it a moment after Shoto had, a presence looming over him. He didn’t have time to check the roofs again. This time, Shoto jerked forward, throwing his arms out in front of Izuku. A wall of ice rose up, sudden and cold. The pack scattered, panicked, though Katsuki couldn’t see beyond the wall. He searched the roofs, but found nothing. Then he heard Izuku yelp and Shoto yelling.

While he’d been with Skull-Face and Solid, Jest had always seemed one step ahead of them. Even though it had been their mission to find an omega, he had felt more able for the job than they had ever been. And here he was again, moving too quickly to track. Apparently able to slip through solid walls. How had he done that? And what had he done to Izuku and Shoto?

Katsuki raced around the ice, ready for a fight.

Instead, he found himself frozen by what was happening.

Shoto was still bleeding, backed up against his ice wall. He clutched his arm, which hung limp at his side, fire flicking at his skin, teeth set. A new gash was opened at his side. Jest and Izuku stood a few paces away. Izuku had kept a hand on his blade, but now Jest’s was clenched over Izuku’s. The beta was holding onto Izuku, the omega’s own blade turned toward his throat, his wrist twisted painfully, Jest’s other hand in his collar.

The world slowed at the sight of a blade at Izuku’s throat. Katsuki had always been the warrior of his people. He had fought and survived where no one else had. He had clawed his way through the worst of all that could happen to someone. He had never been bested before, had never met anyone he couldn’t figure out how to beat.

But he didn’t know how to beat the horrible icy feeling that gripped his insides. It was like the knife had been plunged into his guts. The last time he had seen Izuku under threat, he had launched forward, had ripped Skull-Face and Solid to shreds. He hadn’t even thought about it. He’d just acted.

Now, that sick feeling kept him from moving. All he could see was the glint of the knife and the bandages still wrapped loosely around Izuku’s throat. He kept imagining how they would look drenched with red. He was consumed with the thought of it, with the horror of watching Izuku hurt in front of him.

It wasn’t until Izuku jerked suddenly and the knife slipped out of place before Katsuki understood the real picture in front of him. Shoto wasn’t just standing there, watching this take place. He was leaned against his ice wall, slowly sliding to the ground. The blood pooling around him was too wide. The pack was bunched together, snarling and growling and pressing in toward Jest whenever the knife slipped away from Izuku’s neck, only to hesitate when Jest manage to wrest control back.

And Jest? Jest’s jaw was set, but his eyes were wide. He hid it well, but Katsuki had never seen him look like that, and he knew the beta was terrified.

Meanwhile, Izuku was almost too busy glancing back toward Shoto to seemingly notice how close the knife was getting to his throat. He kept jerking away from Jest, trying to reach the alpha, only for Jest to drag him closer. All Jest wanted was to keep the pack away. All Izuku wanted was to get to Shoto. The pack wanted to kill Jest and Shoto was too busy dying to do much of anything else.

And Katsuki? He was just standing there like an idiot, completely unaware of the situation in front of him. Jest wasn’t holding Izuku hostage. If anything, it was more a stalemate. Two forces unable to find enough leverage to get ahead. Jest was distracted by the number of hostile people crowding in around them and Izuku was too desperate to get to Shoto to fight with any sort of precision. Someone needed to break the stalemate.

Katsuki flexed his palms and stepped forward. Jest jerked toward him and Izuku let out a terrible noise, half in pain, half in fury, and Katsuki could almost hear the omega’s wrist straining as Jest twisted it. That sickening feeling struck Katsuki cold again, but before Jest could gain the upper hand, Izuku made an inelegant attempt to punch the beta, managing only to distract him enough to gain a little distance. Their stalemate continued, and Katsuki felt powerless to do anything to help.

Then, the pack went suddenly still and quiet, and the entire village seemed to darken. Even Jest froze, sensing the shift in the air, leaving only Izuku struggling and hissing madly.

The crowd parted to a single figure walking toward them. Katsuki knew it was Toshinori without having to look. The pack alpha had arrived.

He wore a thunderous expression, his eyes scanning the entire scene, picking out Katsuki, Shoto, and finally Jest and Izuku. Each time his gaze landed on one of them, his expression darkened, a storm building. And, his body shifted.

It started subtly at first, his slouching posture straightening, then his face filling out, then his entire body swelling. Muscles knit themselves into places where he’d only been bone, power rippling through the very ground where he walked. Katsuki felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He knew, instinctually, that this was the power of a true pack alpha, and everything in him screamed to either bow or flee.

He stepped back, the crowd pulling him in until he became one of the masses, watching their pack alpha.

Jest noticed Toshinori’s appearance first, going very still as the pack alpha approached. Still snarling, Izuku twisted, trying to get free of Jest, even opened his mouth as if he meant to bite, then stopped when he saw his father.

Only when he was a few paces from the two did Toshinori stop, his feet digging into the ground, the village quaking in his rage. The pack alpha had grown significantly taller and broader. He didn’t even look like the same person anymore. Katsuki could just barely see the same steely glint in his blue eyes.

Everyone stood, frozen, clearly waiting for the other to react. Izuku recovered first and started growling again at Jest, and only then did Jest cobble together a faint smile.

“Alpha Toshinori, I presume.” He sounded calm even then, facing the alpha’s rage.

Toshinori didn’t acknowledge Jest at all. His focus was entirely on Izuku and Shoto, catching on the blood pooling under Shoto. He was still, a pillar rising up from the earth itself.

Then, he was gone. No, not gone.

Katsuki saw only the aftermath of Toshinori’s attack. Saw Jest skidding just out of reach and Izuku stumbling free, rushing to get to Shoto. Shoto collapsed almost as soon as Izuku touched him and a panicked noise escaped Izuku in response. Toshinori stood between Jest and his son, steam pouring from between his lips.

Katsuki had never seen anything like it. He hadn’t known it was possible for someone to be so fast. There hadn’t been anyone nearly as powerful as Toshinori from his pack.

His breath caught on a terrible thought: his pack had died because there were people like this in the world, and his people had been the easiest prey for someone much stronger than they had ever been.

Jest was scrambling to regain some semblance of composure, standing up straight and lifting his hands to show Toshinori he was unarmed. “Easy, I’m not going to hurt anyone. I’ve come as an envoy of my pack, so surely you wouldn’t just attack me.”

“Envoy?” The word ripped from Toshinori, a clap of thunder that startled everyone in the pack. “You would dare come into my village, attack my pack, and claim sanctuary as an envoy? Why would I listen to anything you have to say.”

“Because you’re already in a conversation with my Alpha, aren’t you? You’ve been scurrying around trying to ready for whatever he may do next. Don’t you want to hear what he has to say, or do you just want to keep guessing?” Suddenly, Jest was back in his element. Yes, Toshinori still towered over him. Yes, Toshinori could probably destroy him with just a flick of his wrist. But Jest knew how to dangle something of worth in front of the hungry.

For a long second, Toshinori stood there, steam rippling from his mouth. The entire pack held its breath, waiting for their alpha’s judgment.

Then, Toshinori lifted his chin. “You will tell me who you are.”

Jest spread his arms out and dipped his head. “Jest, of course. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” His gaze went to Katsuki, somehow picking him out from the crowd.

“You attacked my pack. You sent rogues to take from my pack.” Toshinori stepped forward and the space between him and Jest disappeared. Suddenly, he was inches from Jest’s face, Jest holding himself completely still to keep from flinching back. “You will answer for these crimes, or I will hunt you down.”

Jest lifted a hand in a halfhearted shrug. “If it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t personal. My Alpha is looking for… something specific. If you wished to provide, then none of this would be—”

Jest made a sharp movement, the glint of a blade catching the light. There wasn’t time to move, to react. It was just a blink and all Katsuki heard was a sudden howl. A brief moment of chaos, violent and sharp, then Jest fell to the ground. Above him stood another person Katsuki didn’t recognize, someone he couldn’t hardly see. Someone was standing there, he knew, but their figure shimmered unsteadily, undefinable from the dappled shadows cast by the trees.

Jest lifted his hand from his stomach, revealing blood on his fingers. He snarled up at the newcomer, and melted into the shadows. Katsuki didn’t quite know how else to explain it. The beta’s body seemed to just dissolve into the dark, disappearing entirely. Nothing remained of him, save for the wounds he’d inflicted.

Once it was clear Jest had gone, the pack stirred restlessly. They moved in a little closer, but kept back from their towering pack alpha. Toshinori was paying little attention to the pack though, clearly sizing up the newcomer. Katsuki had the impression the only reason he hadn’t crushed the intruder yet was because he’d scared off Jest.

The intruder turned to Toshinori and their form resolved into something a bit more solid. They were still fluid around the edges, more shadow than flesh, but it was enough for Katsuki to realize their slight form and the forest green attire they wore. “Forgive my intrusion, Alpha,” they spoke in a smooth voice, completely unbothered by what had just happened, “but I saw them reaching for the knife. My Alpha sent me to converse with you and would have been ashamed if I had allowed you to be harmed in my presence.”

“Shinya sent you,” Toshinori declared. This stirred the pack into a further frenzy. Even Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the newcomer. Malcus had been sent to warn this last pack, and last he’d heard in the meeting, relations were not well between these two packs.

“Yes, Alpha. We received word from the others, but I was sent to confirm the information. Seems they were correct.” They bowed with their arms outstretched. “I am known as Shade. You are welcome to call me such.”

Toshinori studied the envoy carefully. As he did, Katsuki made his own assessment.

This ambassador was nothing like the others. Nothing at all.

Malcus had bene a warrior.

Hitoshi had been a scout.

Neito and his goons had been wolves.

All vaguely dangerous but with well definable stances.

And Shade?

Shade was an assassin.

There was no doubt in Katsuki’s mind. Their blessing, the way they moved, even the fact that they didn’t give a proper name. This was the person Alpha Shinya sent when he wanted something taken care of quietly, if not violently.

Faced against someone like Shade, Katsuki would have tried to kill them immediately. Someone like them couldn’t be fully trusted.

But he waited to see what Toshinori would do first.

Toshinori gave Shade the same length of consideration as he had Jest. Then, steam poured from his body, enveloping him completely. When he stepped out of it, he appeared as he had before. Skeletal and unassuming. Katsuki would have never guessed such a man could be a titan.

“I have to attend to my pack first. You may wait in the council room.”

“Pardon, Great Alpha, but I can lend a hand if you require it?”

“Fine. See to Shoto. Hanako, help them. Katsuki?” Toshinori lifted his head when he called for Katsuki, and Katsuki stepped forward at the call.

Their eyes met, Toshinori glancing him over for injuries. Something swelled in Katsuki at the focus of Toshinori’s attention. The pack alpha had looked to him second after seeing to the most clearly injured. Or, maybe because he hadn’t trusted Katsuki not to act nefarious with Jest’s presence as cover.

No. No, it wasn’t that. Katsuki saw the worry in Toshinori’s eyes. He was clearly making sure Katsuki was okay. He really had been worried about him.

Seeing that he was okay, he nodded toward the center of the village. “Go to the council room. Kenji, gather the rest of the pack in the dining hall. We’ll discuss what we must do next.” Then, with everyone else taken care of, Toshinori went to his son.

Izuku was still hovering over Shoto as healers and Shade leaned over him. Toshinori knelt down next to his son and whispered something to him, to which Izuku responded with a pain whine. Something clenched in Katsuki at the sound of it. He glanced at Shoto, just laying in a pool of his own blood. Something in his head twitched and he swore for a second it wasn’t Shoto laying there. He looked away before he could see more, held his breath just in case he could smell blood.

A hand at his elbow tugged him forward. That elderly beta. Torino.

“C’mon, kid. They’ll find us in a little bit.” Torino pulled Katsuki forward. Katsuki glanced once over his shoulder, caught Izuku staring back at him, before he turned away.

Chapter Text

Izuku sat next to Shoto, watching as the healers worked. They’d given him relief from the pain with a powerful drug that sent him into a stupor, leaving him sluggish and confused. Every now and then, he tried to sit up, clearly unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Izuku had to keep pushing him back down, telling him to relax. Seeing his best friend in such a state rankled every last nerve he had. He felt the pressure in his head and his chest building and he knew it was all going to come spilling out of him soon. But he couldn’t lose his mind while Shoto needed him.

So he kept himself together while the healers stitched Shoto back together.

When it was done, he remained with Shoto while the others went to gather supplies and rest. Shoto’s father and brothers were all outside, circling the healer’s hovel. Every now and then, Izuku could hear them growling in frustration. He was grateful for the pungent herbs the healers hung in their hovel. It masked the smell of pain and fear well, though sitting so close, Izuku was inundated with it.

What felt like days passed before his father appeared. Toshinori ducked into the dwelling with urgency, crossing to where Shoto lay without once looking to Izuku. They were cordoned off into a small corner of the hovel, the rest open for other patients, though there were no others that day. Only Shoto.

“How is he?” His father asked, even though he must have gotten an update from the healers already.

Of course, healers sometimes left out important bits. Like the terror of staring death in the face, of laying stitched back together in an overly cushioned bed, as if the slightest knock could shatter Shoto.

Izuku didn’t even try to smile. There was no point trying to reassure either his father or himself. “He hasn’t woken enough to say anything. But he’s scared.”

Toshinori pressed a hand to Shoto’s forehead. “Poor boy.”

Izuku hoped the touch might soothe Shoto, but he made no indication either way. “Is everyone else okay?”

“There were no other injuries. Kaya has taken in Katsuki for now. She’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Izuku nodded. Kaya was wise and feisty. She would know how to take care of Katsuki while not giving into his more aggressive nature. Izuku worried this experience with Jest would only make him more hotheaded.

Then again, the terror in his eyes when he’d seen Jest, even as he dove into battle, stuck in Izuku’s mind. He remembered Katsuki curled up in that nest, remembered him staring out with distrust at the pack, remembered the way he challenged and provoked everyone around him.

Katsuki was so afraid, but that was the first time Izuku had seen it on his face.

Toshinori placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” He lowered his voice when he spoke.

Izuku still didn’t try to smile, even though he knew he should. It was his duty to reassure, to be the steady calm in the center of every storm. But he couldn’t. Not with Shoto hurt. Not with Katsuki afraid. Not with his pack under immediate threat.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What would you have to apologize for?” There was a note of humor in Toshinori’s voice now, though Izuku couldn’t imagine why.

“I didn’t protect him. I couldn’t stop Jest.” Izuku felt the tears welling up. His father squeezed his shoulder a little tighter, and that was permission enough for him to duck his head into his hands. “I tried so hard. But it all went so wrong. And Shoto was—” his voice tightened and all he managed was a painful whine.

Toshinori drew him closer, pressed into his side. “No. This was my fault. I have been so consumed by organizing everyone else that I forgot why I was calling for the other packs to begin with. I didn’t do enough to keep everyone safe.”

“He tried to kill Shoto,” Izuku whined miserably.

“I know. But I won’t let that happen.”

He held onto Izuku for a while longer, waiting for Izuku to calm, then said, “It’s getting late. Do you want to stay here with him?”

“Would it be all right if I did?” Izuku asked.

Toshinori let him go but didn’t push him away. “Of course it would be. I’ll have food sent to you, and bedding. You’ll probably be interrupted all night by his family and healers coming through.”

“That’s fine. I just want to be with him. Just in case—”

Just in case what?

He bit his lip, unable to voice just what could happen he’d want to be there for. Luckily, Toshinori didn’t press him. “Very well. Just make sure to get some sleep yourself.”

Izuku nodded, then paused. “Shade. The person from Shinya’s pack. Are they gone?”

“Yes. They left as soon as we were able to get things under control.” Toshinori offered nothing else.

Izuku understood he was holding something back, and didn’t let him keep it, “Were they here to scout us out? To see if we are weak?”

Toshinori stared down at Shoto. He was sleeping as soundly as he had been since being wounded, but there was still a line of pain in his brow. A mark of things not being quite right.

Eventually, the pack alpha sighed. “I’m not sure. But I think they meant us no harm. Once they report what’s happened to Shinya, I think he will help.”

“You don’t sound certain,” Izuku observed.

“I can only hope he will help.” Toshinori stood. “I have some things I need to see to. I’ll have Soren bring you food.”

“Um, wait.” Izuku paused as his father waited for what he had to say. “Could you… send for Katsuki as well?”

“Katsuki?” Toshinori couldn’t quite hide his surprise. “He’s fine, Izuku, don’t worry.”

“I-I know, just…,” he bit his lip. “Please?”

Toshinori paused a moment longer, then nodded. “All right, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”

“Thank you.” Izuku offered no explanation, and was thankful when Toshinori didn’t demand one.

“Sleep well. If anything changes with Shoto, make sure I’m told.”

“I will. You get some sleep, too.”

Toshinori grunted in what Izuku knew was only an acknowledgement of his request. Probably meant he intended to stay up, watching over the pack. Izuku watched him leave, wanting to say something more to try to put him at ease, but then he was gone and it was too late.

He stared down at Shoto, counting his breaths, watching how they were deep and even. At least he would be getting some sleep that night.

Some time later, Katsuki appeared holding a tray in his hands. The healers had come back to check on Shoto, but he was still sleeping off whatever they’d given him to ease his pain, so they left him mostly alone. They led Katsuki over to Izuku, who smiled in lieu of a welcome.

The alpha knelt carefully and set the tray in front of Izuku. “Soren made this for you. Some for Shoto, too.” He glanced over to the other alpha, seemingly looking for remnants of injuries. “Will he wake up?”

“Yes. Soon.” Izuku didn’t elaborate and he pretended not to notice the looks the healers gave each other. “Have you eaten?”

“Soren made sure I was well looked after.” Katsuki paused awkwardly until Izuku gestured him closer. Only then did he sit across from Izuku. “You wanted to see me?”

Izuku grimaced, staring down at the food. Soren had made several of his favorites, maybe to try to entice him to eat. The beta knew he was prone to stop eating when terribly sad or stressed. He picked at things, but couldn’t quite find it in him to eat any of it. “Yes. I’m sorry to bother you after everything that’s happened today.”

Katsuki let out a low chuckle and leaned back on his palms. “It’s been quite the day, I’ll give you that. Looking forward to when things quiet down around here.”

Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what about the alpha’s words annoyed him. It wasn’t Katsuki. It was something in what he’d said. Izuku examined them a little closer. “You know, I used to hate when it was quiet around here. I’d get so bored that I’d go out looking for trouble. Got Shoto and myself in some outrageous situations because of it.”

“Oh really?” Katsuki flashed his teeth for a moment, though Izuku felt no hostility in the gesture. Strange, that was. He’d always been taught such a gesture was a threat. And yet from Katsuki, he knew it wasn’t. “Wouldn’t have thought you’d be a troublemaker. Sounds like you do know how to have some fun after all.”

“That was when I was very young. I thought I was invincible, that Shoto or my father would always make sure nothing happened to me.” He frowned into the cup of tea Soren had placed at the edge of the tray. It was still steaming, still warm. “Then I grew up. Now I know better.”

“No shame in having a bit of fun,” Katsuki said.

“It was fun, until I realized it wasn’t fun for everyone who worried about us. Until we got hurt.” He glanced to Shoto, but the alpha hadn’t reacted. Not that he ever did when Izuku admitted to his mistakes from when they were young. Shoto had been the one to get in the most trouble, had even gotten hurt a couple of times, and yet he never complained about anything Izuku had dragged him through. “Anyway. I’m looking forward to some quiet as well. But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“It will.” Katsuki sounded so sure. Izuku could almost be jealous of him. “We’ll find Alpha and stop him. Make him pay for what he’s done. We won’t even remember Jest and Alpha soon enough. They’ll get what’s coming for them.” He bared his teeth as he spoke, almost gleefully. It didn’t quite reach the edge of fun Izuku had seen in the alpha other times. This wasn’t fun for him. But he was still looking forward to the day.

“You don’t have to do this for us,” Izuku muttered. “This isn’t your fight.”

“You’re right.”

Izuku blinked. He hadn’t expected Katsuki to just agree with him so readily. But Katsuki’s eyes were pinpointed, present. Whatever he was looking at, it was right in front of him, close enough to reach out and take. “Your fight with Alpha, protecting your pack, that’s your business. I’ll stay to help. It’s the least I can do. But I have my own reasons to stomp him and Jest into dust.”

Izuku studied Katsuki closely, then nodded. “Good. I’m glad to hear it, actually.” He shifted to face Katsuki and felt as the alpha matched his energy. Suddenly they were face to face, conspirators huddled in the night. The healers just a few paces away didn’t matter anymore. Nor did Shoto. They might as well have been alone in that dwelling, their heads bent together and their teeth gnashed toward their enemy.

It was the first time Izuku could remember having such a moment with anyone. Not even Shoto had ever really conspired with him. Not in this way. But Katsuki leaned in to listen to him, to hear what he had to say. Good. Izuku wanted to see how he reacted to what he had to say.

“You sensed Jest before any of us. Right? That’s what happened when we walked out of the dining hall.”

Katsuki’s lip thinned toward a snarl but he kept his teeth covered. “I sensed something. I didn’t know it was Jest. Just… felt as if someone was watching me. Thought it was one of those other packs watching. Then I remembered they’d all left.”

“But you were still able to notice something wrong before anyone else did.”

“I suppose.” Katsuki was watching him cautiously. He wasn’t sure where this was going yet.

Izuku could only hope he would be glad to hear what was coming next. “You said you were a warrior to your pack. I have to beg for your help as a warrior for mine.” He paused as something came over Katsuki’s face, as something melted into place. It was hard to tell exactly what was going through the alpha’s mind. Pain, perhaps. Something more. But Katsuki waited for him to continue, so Izuku took a breath, “You know Jest and Alpha the best. You’ve told us all you know, but clearly you internalized something about their pack. You were the first one to sense danger. So I have to ask that you keep watch over my pack.”

“What exactly are you asking me to do?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku swallowed. He supposed he was being a little too cagey. “Just this: stay with us. Walk our village and look for signs that something’s wrong. And if you feel something, hunt it down.”

Katsuki blinked at him, long and slow, as if processing what he’d been asked. “You want me to stay in this village and hunt down any intruders?”

“Any intruders, any prying eyes. Anyone who isn’t welcome. If you feel like something’s not right, I want you to correct it.”

“Don’t you have more experienced warriors to do just that?” Katsuki’s gaze snapped toward Shoto and quickly away.

Izuku let the moment linger before he answered. “Shoto and his family are our best warriors. And he was completely taken off guard. Jest nearly killed him. But you reacted. You were able to get in his face.”

“I froze.” Katsuki’s snarl peeled back along his teeth. Izuku paused, thinking the alpha was angry at him for asking, until Katsuki turned away and the rage in his eyes reflected back toward himself. “I didn’t help when Jest was attacking you.”

“We were all taken off guard. Now we know what’s at stake.” Izuku waited until Katsuki turned back to him, for his snarl to fade. “I don’t blame you for hesitating. I should have tried to kill Jest rather than just get to Shoto, but I didn’t. I was the one closest to him and I didn’t even land a scratch on him. So we both have something to learn from this. And we both have something to prove.”

Something to prove.

Yes, that was it. Izuku had something to prove. To himself, to his pack. And he saw it in Katsuki as well. The want to prove himself. To make a statement of who he was supposed to be. The alpha’s eyes widened as if he’d caught sight of prey and his teeth peeked out between his lips.

“You want Jest and Alpha. I’ll make sure you have them. So long as you promise to help keep my pack safe.”

Katsuki snorted, but there was a spark of glee in his eyes. Both of them. Sometimes it was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking looking into his dulled gray eye. But both were lit up as Katsuki tilted his head toward Izuku. “Isn’t your dad going to be mad with you making deals with someone like me?”

“He already thinks of you as one of us. So no. He won’t mind. And eventually, he’ll expect it anyway.” Izuku watched as something flickered in Katsuki’s face. When had he gotten so expressive? Hadn’t he always tried to hide what he was thinking? Or had Izuku just gotten good at reading what the alpha was thinking? Either way, Izuku watched as surprise opened Katsuki’s face, only for dark determination to roll in. He set his jaw in a dangerous way. Dangerous for those in his way.

“You have yourself a deal, Aeon.” Katsuki dipped his head, slightly awkward with the motion but clearly trying to replicate it from others he’d seen. “I’ll make sure your enemies are buried in the ground. So long as I get a chance to rip them to shreds myself.”

“Good.” Izuku nodded at the final binding of their deal and once that was done, the exhaustion swept over him again. Now that he had a plan, now that things were starting to move, he had a moment to remember where he was and what had already happened. Who lay in front of him.

Shoto hadn’t moved through the exchange. Izuku wasn’t sure if he was aware, if he’d heard what had just happened. Mostly, he didn’t know if Shoto would approve. Sure, he and Katsuki had come to some understanding, but how far did that extend? Would he be willing to leave the safety of their pack to an outsider? Would anyone?

It was insane to trust so much in Katsuki. But Izuku did trust him. After all that had happened, he trusted Katsuki to do as he said he would, and to carry out exactly what he meant to carry out. If he wanted Jest and Alpha defeated, he would see it done. He’d see it done for his own purposes, driven by his own needs. Izuku wasn’t ashamed of taking advantage of that drive, and Katsuki didn’t seem all that put off by being used in such a way.

Maybe things would change, later, when they’d had time to think about it. But later wasn’t now and for now, Izuku felt a little more reassured in what he was doing. Katsuki was a formidable warrior. It was good to know he was on their side.

“You should eat,” the alpha said. Izuku blinked, having forgotten the tray of food between them. “I’m sure Soren would be upset if you didn’t.”

“He would,” Izuku said, though all he could manage was to halfheartedly pick at the tray.

Katsuki watched him for a time, then he went to stand. “I should leave you two be. But I’ll be near if you need me.”

“Wait.” Izuku bit his lip as Katsuki paused, swayed by his voice alone. “Stay with us? I just… I’d feel better if you were here.”

“Better with the rogue near your hurt friend?” Katsuki bared his teeth. He was teasing in that challenging way.

Izuku shook his head. “I want to make sure you’d okay too.”

The smile dropped from Katsuki’s face. He lingered, clearly unsure what to do, then he sat back down. “All right. Fine. I’ll stay as long as you like.”

- - -

Katsuki watched as Izuku slowly ate, in small pieces as if to make sure no one would notice. Then, when enough food had disappeared, he laid down and curled up next to Shoto.

“I’m just going to take a nap,” he said, even as he yawned.

Katsuki dipped his head. The movement felt unnatural. “I’ll keep watch.”

The omega relaxed, clearly relieved. This was what he’d really wanted, Katsuki recognized. He wanted someone to keep watch. Apparently he trusted Katsuki to do that, though he couldn’t quite place why.

Eventually, Izuku closed his eyes and slipped asleep. Katsuki stayed right where he was, listening and sensing as the world moved around them. The healers came and went with some frequency, though that died away as the night rolled in. Shoto stirred several times, eyes flicking open once to survey both Katsuki and Izuku before he slipped back into sleep. And Izuku slept soundly, tucked into Shoto’s side until at some point, he shifted and ended up nuzzling into Katsuki’s leg. Katsuki stiffened, but didn’t wake the omega. Once Izuku had settled there, cheek pressed against his thigh, he forced himself to breathe.

The night swept over him as well, sleep demanding at his eyes, but he remained alert. Outside, he heard other warriors patrolling around, keeping watch. He never once felt the pressure of someone watching them, save for the occasional healer who ducked inside to check on things. It seemed Jest had either been rightfully stomped and was hiding somewhere, licking his wounds, or he’d decided a follow up attack wasn’t the wisest of plans. The night wore on quietly, if not a little tense.

When night was deepest though, Katsuki heard someone approaching, heard the sudden scuffle of feet and a few whispered words, though he couldn’t make out what was said. When a figure appeared in the doorway, he wasn’t surprised it was Toshinori, only a little uncertain how the pack alpha would react to him. Especially when he remembered Izuku was still half curled against him.

Toshinori did indeed pause when he saw Izuku, but after a moment’s hesitation, he slowly stepped forward. Several paces away, he turned his back and knelt, facing the door.

“Sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I am the Alpha. I’ll rest when the danger has passed. You, on the other hand, need to be strong. Focused. So sleep.”

It was hard to argue with the logic, even if Katsuki didn’t like the idea of just turning over and going to bed. When he didn’t move, Toshinori braced his hands on his knees, shoulders broad and framed in the dark.

“My son trusts you,” the pack alpha said quietly, almost a whisper, “he’ll need you to be at your best, for him to keep trusting you. So sleep. Keep my son happy.”

Katsuki closed his mouth. He waited to see if the pack alpha would explain himself anymore, but he remained like a wall, still and quiet and impenetrable.

Something eased along Katsuki’s shoulders at the sight of him there, unmoved by the dark of night and all that had happened. A pack alpha, he was slowly realizing, was much different from what the old woman had been to his pack. Different, but not bad. Different in a way he was still getting used to, but he could adapt. He could get used to following someone like Toshinori.

He carefully slid away from Izuku, just enough that the omega sought out Shoto to nuzzle up to instead, before he laid down on his back, hands tucked under his head. He stared up at the taut ceiling above him, the herbs hung low. Almost reminded him of Kaya’s dwelling.

Still no stars to see. But he could pretend, maybe.

When he closed his eyes, he remembered the stars above him, the splash of light and color that had decorated his nights, and the soothing whisper of a cool breeze along his face. Nothing was the same as it had been. But he still found sleep, even away from the dream he’d lost.

Chapter Text

Since arriving at the pack, Katsuki hadn’t known a day of peace or quiet. But in the days following Jest’s attack, things slowed to a strange lull where one day bled into the next and a routine started to form. The feeling was strange and vaguely out of place, so much so that Katsuki thought the world might be slightly tilted and he’d only just started noticing he wasn’t balanced on his feet.

He spent most of his days wandering the village, slowly learning all its intricacies. Izuku’s village was larger and more tightly compacted than his home had been. The confines of the forest meant that the village had naturally pressed itself together rather than sprawled apart. The small pathways between dwellings were tangled and sometimes nearly impassible off the main roads. But he found his way and slowly pieced together a map of the village.

As the days wore on, he also slowly came to realize there was an odd layout to the village. Families were huddled together, and that often meant like-minded people ended up in dwellings next to one another, forming small pockets of similar-type homes all bundled around a central pathway. Some were more welcoming to him than others, but no one outwardly cursed him. Kaya, he came to realize, was situated in a rather airy part of the village, set next to several other older couples interspersed with a few younger pack members who cared for them. Meanwhile, Izuku and Shoto’s family all had dwellings closer to the center of the village and all very close to one another. Katsuki once mused that a well-struck fire could take out the entirety of the pack’s leadership. Eijiro and his friends all lived somewhat close together, other than the ponytailed girl, who lived closer to the center of the village. Everyone had their own little communities circled within the larger village.

Despite this, there was still unity within the pack. Everyone had their own friends and families, yes, and some of them got along better than others, of course, but they were all part of the pack and they all acknowledged the responsibility of being part of the greater whole. It was strange to see, though Katsuki soon found a quiet amusement in watching neighbors who disagreed rather passionately share bread at the same fire during supper. Such scenes reminded him of his own pack, which hadn’t been nearly as divided but certainly just as united. His mother had always gotten onto him for not conforming to the pack enough. No one here seemed to mind the odd eccentric.

But they did seem to mind him. Most of the pack minded him quite a lot, actually.

At first, he assumed this was because they didn’t trust him, and he didn’t blame them for it. He wouldn’t have trusted an outsider roaming around seemingly scoping the village out either. But slowly, he came to notice the subtle differences in how people looked at him. To some, he was still clearly a threat. They trailed after him silently, boldly, clearly a challenge in how they never once blinked, staring him down. Others watched, more curious than threatened. Some of them whispered behind their hands to their neighbors, who just shook their heads. And some watched with slight frowns, smiling whenever he caught them looking. These, he started to realize, were the worried. Those that worried for him. Not because of him. But for his health, his safety.

Slowly, he realized that there were people in the village who wanted him to be well, and there were more than he could have ever expected.

At night, he either spent suppers with Eijiro or Izuku and his family. Every now and then, Toshinori would call him up and ask him how the pack was treating him, whether he was having any problems. Katsuki always told him things were well. And when he was with Eijiro and his friends, he could pretend to forget for a while. Pretend that he didn’t remember all that had happened to him and his pack. Pretend to forget that Alpha and Jest were still out there, somewhere. Pretend to just be a normal young alpha having a meal with his friends.

It was strange. Welcome, but strange.

Kaya was the strangest. She let him sleep in her dwelling in a small corner under the herbs, though he sometimes went out to sleep in her garden instead. She warned him not to crush the more persnickety flowers but otherwise didn’t seem to mind. And, no matter how much he might accidentally crush them during his sleep, her gardens always seemed to flourish by the next night.

Strange, strange, strange.

And yet, Katsuki was starting to recognize this strangeness as something that was his.

He was carving out a place for himself amongst this pack. Starting to settle deeper in the veins of the village. There was something for him here, and he was slowly seizing it.

The thought sometimes paralyzed him. He thought about how easy it was to settle in this village when his own was ruin out on the plains, nothing left but indistinct wreckage. It had been long enough that he didn’t expect anyone who didn’t know there had been a village there to recognize the rubble as such. And yet, he’d already moved on, forgotten it. All the people he had known and had known him. All of them gone. He was the only one who could remember them. Him, and the evil bastards who killed them.

And he was forgetting. Slipping into this new life.

Could he really doom his pack to only be remembered by those who had murdered them? Surely they deserved better than that. And yet, sitting around fires with Izuku’s pack, he could lean his head back and choose to forget what he had lost. He could so easily choose to be in the moment, with them.

A slow resentment built in his chest as the days wore on. Resentment for himself, maybe, but it manifested as sparks along his palms and hard stares at those who dared to challenge him. He tried to make less challenges himself – though he found it hard to do so with Izuku, who always responded in interesting ways – but he couldn’t stop himself from snarling every now and then just to see how the others would react.

The distance kept him in-between. Not quite forgetting where he had come from, not quite accepted as part of this other pack. Instead, he drifted between them, just as he drifted between each of the dwellings, keeping away from those inside.

He kept watch over the village, as Izuku had asked him. He never once felt that same looming presence as he patrolled. And when he wasn’t walking the village, he would look up and growl at the lack of stars and sky.

He missed the sky. Probably because it was easier to miss than the plains.

- - -

The days wore on like water over a still-sharp rock. It would take time, but slowly the rock would be weathered away to whatever lay at its core, exposed and weakened. Izuku hated the feeling, the rush of anticipation never come to climax.

But he kept to his duties, tending to the pack the same as he always had. While no one was under the impression that all was well, they hardly ever brought up the fact in front of Izuku. With him, they let themselves pretend that everything was fine, and in return, Izuku acted as if everything was fine. He existed as a pretense to everyone in the pack. A brief fantasy. An escape.

Maybe it wasn’t such a surprise then, how much he started feeling the want to escape himself. He couldn’t let himself be exposed. The walls he’d put up were to protect his pack. If they fell, if the river washed them away, then it would be his pack that suffered.

So he pretended everything was okay, even when clearly it was not.

Shoto recovered quickly in the next few days and continued his habits of trailing after Izuku, his stalwart shadow, even with his body still bandaged. He never once spoke of what Jest had done to him. Izuku was under the impression that he was embarrassed by his failure. As one of the strongest warriors of the pack, it was disgraceful that he’d been nearly killed by a single rogue. Or, that was what he seemed to tell himself. Izuku tried to comfort him, but he wasn’t convinced this was something he could help Shoto with. He wasn’t sure who could help him.

The only major change he saw during the next few days was the change between Shoto and Katsuki. Katsuki had done as Izuku had asked and kept a close eye on the pack, prowling around whenever he wasn’t needed somewhere. He reported to Izuku regularly, though he hadn’t found anything yet. And if Shoto was near when he stopped to give his reports, he’d pause to tell the alpha anything that seemed pertinent for Shoto’s duties.

“Your lookout tower’s leaning on the southeast corner,” Katsuki growled in an undertone, clearly not wanting anyone else to hear.

Shoto blinked at him and Izuku held his breath, anticipating that Shoto would be upset by Katsuki’s observation. Instead, the alpha nodded. “Then we’ll repair it.” And sure enough, the lookout post was righted later that day.

When Katsuki had first arrived at the pack, he and Shoto had clearly been just a step from enemies, not outwardly violent but certainly hostile. Then, they’d slowly accepted the other’s presence. Then they’d had a meal together and they’d talked about training and challenges and they’d come to some sort of understanding. Now, they seemed to something like collaborators. They didn’t work together. Not directly. But they seemed to trust what the other said and did.

It was a miracle Izuku couldn’t quite believe. Every time the alphas spoke, he went very still and held his breath, afraid that if either remembered he was standing there they’d become aggressive with one another again. But they never did. Not yet at least.

“What do you think of Katsuki?” Izuku asked Shoto several days after Jest’s attack.

The alpha wrinkled his nose. “He’s temperamental and loud,” he replied, which was a very familiar way for him to describe anyone. The last time Izuku had asked him about someone, Shoto had simply referred to them as “plain.” Two descriptors was either a very good sign or a very bad one, and it was honestly hard to tell which.

Whatever was happening between them, Izuku was glad for the lessened tension. There was too much else going on for him to worry about what was happening with the alphas. It was one less problem for him to have to put energy into.

Which meant he had more time to consider his options.

It felt as if he didn’t have an option, really. Alpha and Jest were still a threat. Something had to be done about them. The other packs had been rallied, but from what Izuku could tell nothing was really moving with them. Scouts were sent out to search for clues of Alpha’s pack, but nothing appeared out of place. The other packs sent word that they weren’t having any luck either, nor did anyone offer immediate support. Izuku wasn’t part of the direct contact, so he had no idea what his father had asked of them, but surely he was asking for more help, especially since Jest’s attack?

He had to do something to help. Anything. And yet, there was so little he could do. He was the aeon of the village. The moral center, the unwavering soul. It wasn’t his place to go out and look for threats against his pack nor was it his duty to directly speak to the other packs. His focus remained inward, their village and the people there.

There was really only one option. He kept the courting robes laid out, plucking up the courage as the days went by. Even though he dreaded having to wear the damn thing.

As the days went on, he turned to examining why he was dreading his courting so much. It was hard to pick out one true reason.

Expectations, yes. He knew whoever he chose would be the next leader of their pack. While his father would tell him to choose someone for love, it wasn’t that simple and they all knew that.

Pressure, of course. He’d been under a lot of pressure to pick out a mate for a long time. Mostly by well-meaning people who just wanted him to be happy, though a few because they recognized the need for him to select their new leaders.

Discontent, maybe. He didn’t want to settle down with a mate. He didn’t want to think about the duties that would come with such an event. Being an omega to an alpha or beta was a responsibility in and of itself. And while he might want to take on such responsibilities some day, now wasn’t the day.

But the more he dug into it, he realized he was shying away from something. Something just at his fingertips, but something he’d skip right over, avoiding like a fire burning too high.

He desperately didn’t want to name it. But he knew if he didn’t put a name to it, he’d never be able to get past whatever was keeping him from doing what needed to be done. It remained just out of reach, no matter how much he struggled, no matter how many hours in the day he ruminated on it.

It was at the end of one such day, stretched far too long with his own circling thoughts, that he came to the dining hall and found the head table completely empty. Soren was there, waiting for him, but he wasn’t working on anything yet. Which was unusual. The beta liked to have something to whet their appetites when they first arrived to supper, even if it was just a nice pot of tea.

“Good evening, Soren,” Izuku greeted as he took his usual seat, tilting an ear to the rest of the dining hall. The pack buzzed happily around him. There remained a wary edge in the wake of Jest’s attack, but morale was high. Much in part to a lot of work and effort on Izuku’s and Toshinori’s part.

“Good evening, shula. Alpha Toshinori sent word that the others won’t be joining you tonight, so I thought I’d make whatever you wished to have tonight.”

“Oh,” Izuku poorly hid his disappointment. Supper was really the only time he got to spend unwinding with his family and friends recently. Sure enough, when he scanned the room he couldn’t find a trace of Shoto, Shoto’s family, or his own family. Nor did he see any of the council members. They must have been having a meeting without him.

“I see,” he cleared his throat. “I, um. Sorry. I don’t really know what I want.”

Soren hid his frown well, but he certainly wasn’t smiling very convincingly. “Is everything all right, shula?”

Izuku smiled. He knew he wasn’t being very convincing either. “Of course. I’m fine.” He reached for his mug, only to remember Soren hadn’t placed one in front of him yet.

Seeing this, the beta rose. “Here. Your favorite tea, maybe? Or perhaps you’d like something a little lighter tonight?”

“Why don’t you surprise me, Soren? Whatever you make is always good.” Izuku felt bad putting the decisions off onto Soren, but he didn’t really know if he could make any decisions for himself at the moment.

“Yes, shula. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Izuku felt a stab of despair as Soren rose. “Oh, I’m okay. Thank you though. You don’t have to, um—” he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

Soren smiled, a sad little smile. He bowed. “Of course, shula. I’ll be right back.” With that, he stepped off the platform, weaving through the crowd to fetch his ingredients.

Izuku tried to look busy alone before the pack, but there wasn’t even tea for him to drink. He played with his hands some, then realized that might make him seem nervous and shoved them into his lap. For a while, he stared at his empty plate, feeling lost.

Then, a body collapsed next to him and he nearly startled out of his skin.

“Aren’t you a sorry sight.”

Izuku blinked at Katsuki, who leaned back into his palms, head tilted up. He didn’t look at Izuku when he spoke, but his voice was low and meant only for him. “Don’t mind if I crash your supper, do ya?”

“Um, no.” Izuku blinked down at the crowd, spying the empty spot where Katsuki had just been sitting with his friends. They kept the spot open for the alpha, despite how comfortable Katsuki seemed at Izuku’s table. “Did you, uh, need something?”

Katsuki rolled his head to face Izuku, eyes half lidded. He seemed tired again. Izuku was tempted to ask him if he was sleeping, until the alpha said, “You seem lonely.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he said it too quickly and he saw the shadow of a smirk skitter over Katsuki’s face. “The others are busy. Just wanted to be here to make sure everyone else is okay.”

“Sure, sure.” Katsuki tilted his head back, face to the ceiling. He was doing that more and more, something pained in his expression.

Izuku opened his mouth to ask about it, but stopped himself. He reached for his tea again, only to remember it wasn’t there. He shoved his hands in his lap. “You look tired.”

Katsuki tilted his chin to look out over the pack. “So does everyone else. You included. Hard to rest when you’re listening for a spy.”

“You think Jest has been sneaking around?” Izuku perked up immediately.

Katsuki snorted. “Not too close, no, but he’s around. I’m sure your scouting parties are being watched, even if they don’t see it.”

“There haven’t been anymore attacks,” Izuku said quietly.

“That’s not how it works with them. Not unless they’ve found more rogues to throw at us.” Katsuki pushed himself up, leaning inward. He seemed to think over something, then snarled absently. “Listen. We shouldn’t talk about this. We both probably need a night off.”

“All right.” Izuku wondered if Katsuki was admitting that he needed some time to relax or if he knew bringing himself into it was the only way to make Izuku stop. It was hard to tell with Katsuki, though he was perceptive enough to have figured out Izuku’s more selfless nature. “What would you like to talk about, then?”

Katsuki stared at the empty table. “Something stupid.”

“Is that a suggestion or a request?” Izuku couldn’t help but smile.

The alpha rolled his eyes but was saved when Soren appeared behind them.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be joining the Aeon.” He smiled at Katsuki.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to feed me.” Even as he spoke, Katsuki eyed the ingredients piled on the tray Soren held. There was hunger in his eyes, but more of a curious than ravenous nature.

“I brought plenty, don’t worry.” Soren set the tray aside. “Although, I’m afraid I’ve catered to the Aeon’s tastes more. Will that be okay?”

“I’d like to know what the good Aeon enjoys for supper.” Katsuki looked over to Izuku when he said it. There was something secretive and teasing in the way he eyed the omega, watching his reaction. Only when he looked at Izuku did a more ravenous edge appear in his eyes.

If Soren noticed, he didn’t comment. “Well, it’s a lot of fresh fish mostly.”

“Sounds delicious.” Katsuki licked at his canines.

Izuku made a point to turn away when he did, hoping that no one noticed how his cheeks were warming and his gut was squirming. Damn this alpha. Who did he think he was?

It wasn’t the first time an alpha had teased him. Hell, half the alphas in the pack had tried their luck with him at least once, in their own way. Some more overtly than others, though the more obvious the more risk they took of running afoul Shoto. And Shoto was a stickler when it came to courting traditions. Izuku thought it had something to do with how his family had been brought together, but either way having him nearby had meant that Izuku hadn’t suffered much unwanted, or even wanted, alpha attention. And truth be told, he didn’t particularly like the way some alphas looked at him. Nor how they looked at other omegas, as something shiny sat upon a dais, waiting to be unwoven.

Betas were usually a little sweeter about it, but several of them had also tried to get too close before, earning Shoto’s ire. Izuku found he could tolerate betas a little easier than the more boisterous attitude of a haughty alpha, but even then such attention had always made him feel a little uneasy. Even during the times when he’d enjoyed the passing brush a hand over his waist or the teasing bite of a lip, he had always tried to keep his distance. Much like Shoto, he understood the importance of traditions, so he’d never let anyone too close, nor had he felt the need to pull anyone closer.

What was different with Katsuki? Katsuki acted like a lot of the other alphas Shoto had run off before, though not quite the same. He was not subtle at all, teasing in sometimes inappropriate ways. But when Izuku really thought about it, Katsuki had always kept some distance between them. He had been forward with his wants. But he’d never stepped across the line Izuku had drawn. Maybe that was the difference. Maybe not.

It was frustrating not knowing what to do with Katsuki in this particular aspect. He was finally settling into the village, in the pack, but whenever Izuku caught the alpha smirking at him, he felt as if the ground were unspooling under his feet. No matter how much he turned away and pretended not to notice Katsuki’s teasing, he couldn’t quite ignore the way his body reacted to the alpha’s attention. He’d never felt that before and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He could admit, silently, that he wasn’t opposed to Katsuki’s teasing, though he did wish the alpha was more aware of their surroundings when he was doing such things. But did that mean anything?

It was frankly embarrassing to even be thinking about, so Izuku was grateful for the distraction that came when Soren handed him a steaming mug. “Thank you.” He sniffed the tea, detecting hints of something spicy. Surprised, he asked, “What is this?”

“It’s my own blend. I, uh, I hope you like it.” Soren shifted nervously as he handed Katsuki his mug. It was hard to tell if he was nervous being near the alpha or over Izuku trying his tea.

“I’ll wait for it to cool,” Izuku said, setting it aside.

To his shock, Katsuki tip his head back and doused the back of his throat with the scalding tea. He smacked his lips and furrowed his brow at the empty mug. If he noticed both Izuku and Soren staring at him, he said nothing. After a moment, he set the mug down. “We used to have a traditional celebration drink. For when we came back victorious from a hunt or a fight or whatever. Reminds me of that. Not quite the same, but something like it.” He mulled over something and his eyes faded, disappearing into his past.

Izuku worried his lip over what Katsuki had said, then to Soren repeated, “I’ll just wait a moment longer.”

Soren smiled understandingly and turned to start cooking. Once his attention was elsewhere, Izuku leaned toward Katsuki. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?” Katsuki refocused on the present rather quickly. Maybe too quickly.

Izuku thought about asking him about it, but instead said, “You did just pour scalding tea down your throat.”

“Did it all the time. It’s how you drink anything with corder root in it.”

“Corder—” Izuku glanced at his tea. “What do you mean?”

“Corder root. You know,” Katsuki searched his face, clearly expecting something. “Special spice. We only used it for celebrations. For our best dishes. It was hard to find, or so I’m told.”

Izuku blinked at him, but it was Soren who spoke first, “You mean ginger root?”

“Ginger?” Katsuki glared back at him. “Never heard of it.”

“That’s what we call it.” Soren explained patiently.

Katsuki digested this information by picking at his teeth. He growled as some form of acknowledgement but clearly was starting to fade into the past.

Izuku sipped experimentally at his tea. He detected hints of lemon along with the slightly bitter flavor he assumed was ginger. After another sip, he did recognize it as something he’d tasted in other dishes before, but not very regularly. In the tea, the flavor was much stronger, starchier, coating his tongue and the back of his throat. In a way, it was relaxing.

“Thank you, Soren. I bet my Mom would like this,” he said.

Soren preened under the praise. “I got the idea from Kaya’s garden. She has so many unique plants. I want to learn how to use all of them to make delicious food!”

“I’m sure you will one day. Just don’t destroy her stock.” Izuku chuckled at Soren’s enthusiasm. It was nice to see the beta enjoying himself. He had a little spring to his movements when he was particularly happy. Izuku found he really enjoyed watching Soren be happy.

He frowned at the thought, wondering now if that meant Soren might be a good candidate as a mate. Would making Soren happy make Izuku happy? Would Soren be able to support the entire pack like he did Izuku’s family? It seemed cruel to heap so much pressure upon him. But Soren had asked for the pressure of taking care of the pack alpha’s family and had thrived under it. Maybe he’d also thrive under the pressure of ensuring the pack’s happiness.

Izuku looked away and drank his tea, upset he was thinking about such things at all.

At his side, he felt Katsuki watching him. The alpha at least had the good sense not to ask him about it. Instead, he asked, “You talk like Kaya’s garden is special.”

“It is.” Izuku laughed at even the thought. Then he remembered Katsuki would have no idea what he meant and set his tea aside. “Kaya’s mate, wonderful man I’m told, though he’s been long gone, he was an… eccentric I guess you could say. He didn’t spend a lot of time in the village, but used to wander around. He’d be gone for weeks, months, I’m told he disappeared for two years once. Everyone thought he was dead, including Kaya. But then he returned one day, with no warning, and went about as if nothing had happened.” He paused, remembering how Kaya softened whenever she spoke of her husband. Love etched with bone-deep grief. She wore it better than others.

“Anyway, whenever he returned from one of his trips, he’d usually bring back something for Kaya’s garden. Some strange plant or seeds no one had ever seen before. Lot of stuff in Kaya’s gardens are from places well beyond our territories. Sometimes he’d bring back other things as well. Clothes, for one.” Izuku glanced over at Katsuki.

Katsuki wasn’t dressed in the strange outfit Kaya had given him, opting for an eclectic mix of warrior garb and fisherman leggings. He seemed so uncomfortable whenever he wore a robe that no one had asked him to do so again. The tailors had pulled finished items from their chests to throw at him while they worked on recreating whatever it was that Katsuki had worn that day Neito and his companions had arrived. The process was a long one, though the tailors had seemed up for the task. Meanwhile Katsuki had found his own style, something he was more comfortable wearing. The leggings were tied at his waist and ankles, usually to keep fish from swimming up them though Izuku thought Katsuki only tied them such because the fisherman who’d given them to him instructed him to do so, and a longer tunic falling to his knees. The looped sleeves were clearly a bit cumbersome for him, but Katsuki was learning how to keep them from dragging through whatever happened to be around. It was a bit like teaching a pup to mind themself, if that pup was a bulked warrior alpha who had far too many teeth and knew how to use them.

Katsuki didn’t seem to notice the appraising look. Instead, he was focused on something else. “Did he ever talk about where he got the things he brought home?”

“I’ve never heard it. I don’t know if he told Kaya, but I know it was a bit of a game when he was alive. People would ask him what had happened and where he’d been and he’d tell these outlandish stories no one believed. He sometimes claimed he’d been the one to cultivate the plants he brought Kaya, even though Kaya’s the one who has the plant blessing.” Izuku let the conversation pause as Katsuki clearly thought through something, his eyes drifting to the side. “If you’re asking whether I know where he got those clothes from, then I don’t. But if you asked Kaya, she might be able to tell you.”

“She hasn’t said.” Katsuki replied simply. Izuku didn’t know if that meant he’d asked and she had refused to answer, or if she hadn’t offered and he hadn’t asked.

He sipped his tea again, finding the bitter flavor soothing. Kaya’s garden was limited, so only he and his family ever got to experience the odd flavors regularly, though every now and then she would have to harvest some crop to make room for another and the entire pack would be treated to whatever she had pulled from the earth. Usually around celebrations. Kaya had mentioned that she was holding onto something special for his mating announcement.

Izuku swallowed heavily, draining his tea. When he set it down, Soren was there to refill it and Katsuki’s, though he did so a little more cautiously with Katsuki. The alpha didn’t throw back his drink this time, letting it sit to cool hopefully. Izuku wondered if he’d burned his throat and didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

“Sounds like he traveled really far, then,” Katsuki said.

Izuku nodded, palming his mug. It was warm, the heat suffusing through his hands. He held it close to catch a little warmth on his face from the steam. “Did… did you travel far to reach our pack?”

“Farther than I remember, even. Lot of the early days traveling I’ve forgotten. Was still recovering from these, you know.” Katsuki ran a hand over the terrible scars. Izuku had grown used to them, so much so that he didn’t think about how those scars were relatively new to Katsuki. He hadn’t been born with them as Soren had been born with his limp. It was something he might still be getting used to.

“Do they hurt?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki shrugged. “Every now and then. Itches, mostly.”

“The healers could probably give you something to help.” Izuku suggested.

Katsuki shook his head. “Can’t turn back time, shula. No point in trying.”

“That’s not what I—” Izuku bit off his words. He searched for something else to say, but found there was nothing. Katsuki, for his part, seemed to want a moment to himself, so the conversation lapsed and Izuku let it.

Soren cooked their supper and laid it out in front of them. Fresh fish, as promised, the skin crispy and the flesh still moist. Izuku purred happily, forgetting his company, and startled when Katsuki chuckled.

“Have to admit. It is really good.” He bowed his head to Soren, a small token of his thanks. Soren smiled, pleased. “You have good taste, shula.”

“I know,” Izuku mumbled into his food. He paused when Katsuki laughed and realized what he’d said. “I mean— thank you?”

Katsuki grinned, teeth gleaming.

Toward the end of their meal, as people started trickling out of the dining hall, a few started trickling back in. Council members, Izuku noticed. He craned his neck, looking for his father or mother but neither made an appearance. No one even glanced up at the head table until Shoto stormed through the door.

There were few times in his life Izuku could remember the air crackling around Shoto, when he grew so upset that his blessing spewed out in ragged bursts of cold and hot air. Once, after a particularly terrible argument with his father, a burst of snow had erupted from around Shoto, coating Izuku in a fine powder. Shoto had been mortified but Izuku only laughed. There had been other times as well – less pleasant times not so easily laughed off.

This was instantly different from any of those times. The air around Shoto sparkled, little ice crystals forming and melting almost instantly until steam seemed to pour out from around him. The pack shied away as Shoto drew near, muttering amongst themselves. If he noticed, Shoto didn’t react. His attention was focused on the head table. On Izuku. And he was walking quickly.

Realizing something was wrong, Izuku stood, sensing Katsuki move at his side. Immediately, Shoto’s eyes pinpointed onto the alpha and he bared his teeth and growled, the crystals around him expanding, hissing as they collapsed into steam. Those nearest Shoto yelped and fled.

“Shoto, calm down,” Izuku reached for him but Shoto snarled a little louder. Izuku froze, not understanding why the alpha was acting so aggressive. He’d never seen Shoto act that way before. It was almost as if… as if he were demanding obedience. Subservience. Almost as if he were trying to dominate the entire pack. Izuku included.

Something hot rose up Izuku’s throat at the very thought and it came out as a low hiss, a warning to back off. Shoto’s eyes were slits, focused entirely on him.

“Shoto,” Izuku said again.

Shoto only growled, then yelped as water was dumped on him.

Izuku startled at the sudden movement, took a moment to realize what had happened. It took Shoto even longer, the steam drifting off his body in waves but the ice crystals subsiding as he shook himself from the water. Nearby, Katsuki stood, clearly ready for a fight. The bucket of water was still clenched in his hands.

“Katsuki!” Izuku tried to admonish but his voice felt small. He couldn’t look at Katsuki.

All he saw was the way Shoto was suddenly staring down at his hands, at the steam rising up from his skin. He let out a shaky breath, and turned without a word.

“Shoto!” Izuku called him back but the alpha was rushing to get out of the building, people leaping from his path. Before he could do anything, Shoto had swept outside and a deathly quiet overcame the pack.

It took Izuku a moment to realize most eyes were on him, and that the others were on Katsuki, still holding the bucket in his hands. Katsuki recovered first, setting the bucket back where it was usually sat near Soren’s station. The alpha muttered something like an apology to the beta, who looked frozen in confusion and fear, then sat back in his seat and picked through the last of his meal.

Izuku couldn’t think about his food. All he could think about was the look in Shoto’s eyes, the fury then the terror that had overcome him, the way the pack had scurried away from him much as they did his father when he grew enraged. How Shoto must have seen it, when he’d been knocked back to his senses.

But more than anything, all Izuku could wonder was what had sent him into such a state to begin with.

He searched the crowd and located Mirai almost immediately, the tall beta standing a little ways off but near enough to clearly want to be noticed. He dipped his head when Izuku saw him, and more when Izuku growled.

“You,” he hooked a finger toward the head beta, not caring who was watching, “what happened?”

Mirai adjusted his spectacles. He walked up to the head table, much too calm for how tense everyone else was. He walked right past Izuku to examine the remnants of their meal, to cast a curious look over to Katsuki, before turning back to Izuku.

“Finish your supper, Aeon. Your father won’t be happy if you start skipping meals.” And with that, he simply walked away.

Izuku watched, expecting him to turn back, to say something else, anything else. But Mirai let him standing there, the pack watching, the air heavy with confusion. No promise for resolution. No answers. Just a puddle where Shoto had once stood.

Izuku only moved when Katsuki scoffed behind him. “That guy,” the alpha growled and Izuku turned, almost numb, to watch as he lifted his mug and waited for Soren to refill his tea. When he had, Katsuki knocked it back just as he had at the beginning of the meal. He set the mug down hard enough to rattle the table, his eyes narrowed toward where Mirai had disappeared. “That guy’s an asshole.”

Izuku pressed his lips together. He felt everyone watching him, felt the heaviness of the air on his shoulders.

Slowly, he took his seat next to Katsuki, staring down at what remained of his food. He didn’t even have the strength to pick at it.

He said nothing when Katsuki reached across and snatched the last bit of fish from his plate, snapping it up hungrily. But he did feel a little better watching the alpha slowly clean his plate for him.

Chapter Text

Katsuki followed in Izuku’s shadow differently than Shoto did, but his presence was equally soothing. Especially since Izuku didn’t know what to expect as he searched the village.

Shoto was a lurking presence, a shadow attached to his heels. Although Izuku sometimes forgot he was there, every now and then he would turn and see the alpha there, always there, and be comforted knowing he wasn’t alone. Katsuki was much different. He was a looming presence. All-encompassing. It was impossible not to notice he was there, even though he said nothing and kept a fair distance between them. There was comfort with him as well, but also an edge of apprehension. Izuku didn’t quite know what to expect from him, or what Katsuki was expecting him to do. But he still followed without question as Izuku searched for where Shoto had gone.

The village was subdued in the way it only got when rumors were still spreading. Shoto’s outburst would be known throughout the village soon enough, if it wasn’t already widespread, but the reasons why would be slower to root. Izuku had to know the truth, quickly, to help alleviate the worst fears that might whisper between packmates. Mostly Izuku worried that the pack would look at Shoto then look at Enji and see the same man standing there, just as Enji would have wanted. Even though that was so far from the truth.

Izuku asked everyone they passed if they had seen Shoto, and some had, carving a path through the village. A straight line, he realized. It didn’t take him long to know where Shoto had gone immediately after leaving.

Outside his dwelling, Izuku paused, glancing to Katsuki. “You can come in,” he said, unsure if the alpha would do so. Even Katsuki seemed cautious, but when Izuku swept into his dwelling, he felt Katsuki at his heels.

Shoto was there, as his path had inevitably led, standing in the very center of Izuku’s home. He was still breathing heavily and dripping water off his clenched fists. His shoulders and chest worked through each breath with a deep, even rhythm. He stood like a heart beating at the center of Izuku’s world, pried open and bleeding. Izuku stepped carefully forward to inspect the wound, not knowing what he would find.

“Shoto?” He asked. Shoto was staring forward. When Izuku followed his gaze, he found the alpha staring straight at his courting robes. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Shoto set his jaw. A flash of heat overcame him and steam roared off his skin, sending Izuku back a step. Katsuki was there at his elbow a moment later. Izuku shook him off.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

Shoto tilted his head up. He had stopped breathing so heavily, but it seemed he wasn’t breathing at all. He had stopped, a heart stuttered and cold, with his hands still clenched at his sides. When he finally lowered his head, he stepped forward and grabbed the courting robes, twisting the fabric in his hands.

Izuku reached forward, worried Shoto might tear the thin fabric, but Shoto jerked them away. “Why do you have this out?”

Izuku stilled. He glanced at Katsuki, still looming nearby. Shoto had surely noticed he was there. But he wasn’t paying any attention to him.

“We’ve talked about why,” Izuku said slowly.

“No. You can’t be serious. Not like this!” Shoto tossed the robes to the ground. They were light enough to float, landing in the puddle that had gathered at his feet. “Why are you so ready to throw yourself away like this? Why is this the solution you’ve come to?”

Izuku searched for what to say, but he was baffled. “What’s going on, Shoto? Why are you so mad?”

“Because,” Shoto stepped heavily forward. He moved like a man twice his weight and three times his height. He moved like his father. “They know you’d throw yourself away for us. They didn’t even have to ask for it, you were ready to just do it! And I can’t let that happen, I won’t let that happen.”

“Shoto,” Izuku snapped, hoping the harder edge would rattle something loose, “just tell me what’s going on.”

Shoto stood to his full height. He was taller than Izuku, but not by much. Just enough that Izuku had to lift his chin, that Shoto had to look down at him. Something about this nettled at Izuku’s mind but he pushed it away, waiting for the alpha’s response.

It came with a snort. “One of the packs replied to your father’s request for aid. They said they would send warriors if you agreed to choose a mate from their pack.”

A second, a heartbeat, of stiff resolve. Everyone in the dwelling held themselves together, not wanting to be the first to break.

Then Izuku said, “What?” and Katsuki let out a low, long hiss and Shoto started steaming again.

“And the worst part is, we all knew you would give yourself up if asked.” Shoto turned away. The steam licked off his limbs. The dwelling was suddenly stiflingly hot. “Your father refused to tell you. He’ll be angry at me for telling you. But I don’t care. Because you aren’t going to do this. They’re taking advantage of you, Izuku. And you can’t let them, not like this.” He gestured around the room, perhaps to all the village. “They knew about this. They knew you were already prepared to give yourself up for the safety of the pack. And they’re fine with using that to their advantage. They’re no better than the rogues.”

Izuku listened, but his mind was elsewhere. What Shoto had said about them knowing. How could they have known?

“Who asked for this?” Izuku kept his voice steady. He wasn’t sure how.

Shoto snarled. “Does it matter? No, I won’t tell you. You’ll be tempted to do as they demand and I won’t let that happen to you.” He added when Izuku opened his mouth.

Cowed, Izuku took a step back, trying to remember who all knew, who had seen him with his robes. Kaya had, Katsuki as well. Katsuki didn’t know the significance of the robes, so he wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone, nor did Izuku think he would even if he had known. And Kaya had told him she wouldn’t say anything, so he knew she wouldn’t. So who would know?

Then his eyes slid to the box in the corner of his room, the flint knife still cradled inside. Hitoshi had seen the robes. They’d had an entire conversation about it. Hitoshi had even mentioned his own pack was starting to get restless with wanting him to announce a mate, even though the mate Hitoshi wanted they would never accept. Had Hitoshi mentioned it to his father? Izuku knew that Shota and Toshinori didn’t get along, but he found it hard to believe the other pack alpha would be so underhanded. Would he really try to force their hand to get help, to maybe even force his own son into an arrangement they knew he wouldn’t be happy with?

There was Shade to consider as well. No one had even known Shade was in the village until they’d revealed themself. Had they snuck in and seen the robes? Izuku knew even less about Shinya, but knew there was tension between their packs. Maybe Shinya saw this as an opportunity to bring their packs together, to either solidify a bond with Toshinori’s pack or gain power over a potentially hostile pack.

While he didn’t think anyone else could have seen the robes, he knew Malcus was an open gossip and many people in the village clamored for his attention. Would he have heard rumors that Izuku was getting ready to announce his courting season? Would he have suspected that the Aeon was getting ready to settle down? Maybe he’d heard the rumors and looked at both the ailing pack alpha and dissatisfied pack beta and saw the power vacuum slowly opening in the center of the village. Maybe he’d simply seen an opportunity.

As for Neito and his companions, Izuku felt sure in assuming their pack had not been the ones to ask for such a union. Neito had been consumed by his task with the rogues, and his companions had blundered so spectacularly into their village that they could not have had time to snoop around or revel in the local gossip. No one would have told them anything about their Aeon, certainly not that he might be thinking of taking a mate soon. The ones who had caused the most chaos were, then, the ones Izuku suspected the least, strangely enough.

But it still left him with three packs potentially trying to take advantage of him, and his own pack conspiring to try to protect him.

“Shoto, if this is what I need to do—” he didn’t get the words out before Shoto snarled at him.

“This is exactly why we didn’t want you to know! You really think throwing yourself at these people will save us? Do you really think so little of us?”

His words were a lightning bolt through Izuku’s chest. Stunned, he could only stand there as Shoto stomped past him, sweeping out of the dwelling like a storm passing over the ridge, there and gone in a moment. In his absence, it grew cold and clammy.

Izuku stood there for a long while, not knowing what to do. He felt tears welling in his eyes, though he didn’t even know where they had come from, who they were for. For himself, for what he was prepared to do, or for his pack, for Shoto, for all those who had tried to protect him just as he was trying to protect them. For the fact that he hadn’t realized how little faith he had in his pack, that they needed to be protected.

It wasn’t until Katsuki moved closer that he remembered the alpha was still there.

Hot embarrassment crested over the sorrow and Izuku bared his teeth in warning, Katsuki stilling immediately.

“Just go,” Izuku snapped. “Or go ahead and laugh, I guess. I probably deserve it.”

Katsuki didn’t move. He didn’t go. He didn’t laugh. His looming presence grated on Izuku’s nerves. For the first time in several days, Katsuki felt like an outsider peering between the trees to watch them. A predator stalking his prey. Izuku remembered the way Katsuki’s eye had shone through the trees during the Moon, piercing the dark to glare right through him.

Izuku grabbed his elbows, turned away in shame.

A gentle touch drew his hand away, a quiet tug and he turned to face Katsuki. The alpha didn’t look down at him with pity. Izuku couldn’t quite name the expression across his face.

“What?” Izuku snapped. He could have tugged his hand away, but he didn’t. Perhaps, he didn’t want to admit, because he wanted to know what the alpha would do. He wanted to see exactly what Katsuki thought of their conversation, of the way Izuku had stood there in the aftermath, of the robes dirty and wet on the ground.

Izuku waited for his judgment. He waited to see if Katsuki judged him like all the others in the village did.

Katsuki waited a second, a heartbeat that whispered between them in the dark. The dwelling wasn’t lit, the panel above pulled shut and the weighted entrance swept closed in Shoto’s wake. In the semidark, Katsuki’s eye was very red.

Until he dropped his gaze to Izuku’s hand, something uncomfortable shifting in his expression. “I want you to know something.”

“What?” Izuku repeated, still sharp. Whatever was going to happen, he wanted it to be over. He wanted to know what Katsuki would say to him. How he would comfort him. How he would say it was okay, that he would make it okay. Any other ridiculous alpha thing he thought would help.

Katsuki still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “In all my life, through my old village and this one, I’ve only ever known one other omega who was tougher than you.” Izuku felt himself bristling, though he didn’t know why. Katsuki’s hand on his was warm. He held very still, as if afraid to touch him too much. Izuku didn’t try to encourage it. He didn’t react at all as Katsuki’s brow furrowed. “She was a hell of an omega. Of a person. Tough as nails. Always did her best to keep me in line. She gave a damn about me. She tried so hard. She believed in me, even when it was clear even I didn’t give a damn.”

Slowly, Katsuki sunk. Izuku held his breath as Katsuki knelt before him, just as he had before Toshinori. Then, Katsuki had spilled his own blood and asked the pack alpha to take him as one of his own. This time, Katsuki lifted Izuku’s hand to his forehead, pressing the omega’s knuckles to the furrowed skin of his brow.

Izuku didn’t know the significance of the moment. He could never quite understand the depth of what was happening between them. But he felt the warmth of Katsuki’s skin trickling into his knuckles, up into his wrist. It dissipated quickly, melding into the warmth of his own body. But for a moment, he could feel as Katsuki poured something into him.

Then the alpha let go of his hand and he stood. This time, he looked Izuku straight in the face. “You remind me of her, you know. But you’re different in one way. She would never have let the expectations of others stop her from doing what needed to be done. Even if that meant she had to behave like she wasn’t an omega and wasn’t our pack leader. She’d do whatever she had to, and damn the consequences.” He swayed on his feet, and added, “I’ll admit, you have a strength she didn’t, in trying so hard to do everything you can without stepping over that line. But she still trumps you, because she never let fear stop her. And you let it control you all the time, even though I know you’d be unstoppable if you just let go.”

The bristling feeling rushed over Izuku’s body, flushing away like water from an unstuck dam. It all rushed down into awkward places, until he had to shift away from the alpha to regain some form of composure.

“You don’t know what it means to be the aeon,” he told Katsuki, “you don’t know what it means to have that responsibility.”

“You’re right, and I never will. Don’t ever want to know it personally. But I think I’m starting to know you. And I wish you wouldn’t let the others sell you so short.” He dipped his head. “And I know that I would be honored to follow an omega like you, no matter where you told me to go.”

A startled silence fell over them. Too unexpected, too unprepared, Izuku could only stare as Katsuki lifted his head and turned away.

“I’ll go make sure hothead isn’t burning something down.”

Izuku swayed again, took a step to follow Katsuki. Then, he said, “Don’t get into a fight,” after him instead, and Katsuki raised a hand in reply as he slipped out. The dark closed over Izuku again when he was gone.

Alone, the robes at his feet were the only spot of brightness in the entire dwelling. Everything else was faded and shadowy. Izuku stared down at it. He’d have to wash it again.

His mind turned over what Katsuki had said. Mostly, over a single fact that lined up so perfectly that it physically pained Izuku to realize it.

Katsuki’s pack had been led by an omega.

It all made too much sense. The way Katsuki stilled under Toshinori’s orders, the way he interacted with the other alphas and betas, how even he interacted with omegas. How he deferred so quickly to anything Izuku said. As if he were following the orders of a pack alpha.

Izuku closed his eyes. A new weight was nestling itself happily between his shoulders. He couldn’t name it, exactly, but he felt it all the same, and he knew it took the form of a piercing red eye, watching him, waiting for direction.

Izuku snatched up the robes and tossed them to the side. He had other things to worry about.

- - -

The village was quiet of Shoto’s presence for the rest of the day and into the night. Katsuki stalked the paths between the dwellings like a monster in the dark, but he found no sign that Shoto had been anywhere. In fact, he didn’t see the alpha until he appeared in the dining hall the next morning, stepping up to sit next to Izuku as if nothing had happened. Izuku stared back at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, but he didn’t, and Izuku didn’t press him. From his seat next to Eijiro, Katsuki glowered. As if sensing eyes between his shoulders, Shoto turned.

Their eyes met. Something silent passed between them.

Shoto turned around and went about his meal. He and Izuku were the only ones at the table that morning.

Katsuki spent the morning napping and seeking the bare patches of sunlight scattered throughout the village, following them like a starved flower. He’d chosen to wear the warrior garb of Izuku’s pack, but it was a heavy sort of material, dragging at his limbs. Better than the robes, at least, but still cumbersome.

It was while he was resting in a sun patch that Shoto found him. The alpha was practically a storm cloud, eyes dark and fists clenched. He stood over Katsuki to block the sun and snapped, “I’m going hunting.” It wasn’t a statement. It was an invitation.

Katsuki surveyed the people around them, how they stared uneasily back at Shoto, how the alphas slunk low as to not draw his attention. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

Without another word, Shoto turned and started into the forest. It gave Katsuki no time to prepare, but that wasn’t new. He’d wandered for far too long without having any time to prepare. He could handle a hunting trip with an alpha in a foul mood.

“Don’t fall behind,” Shoto warned, “or I’ll just leave you.”

Katsuki snorted at the thought, though he couldn’t deny the worm of worry that writhed in his gut. If he got lost in the forest, he would be cast off, a rogue again. Or Alpha and Jest would find him. And that might be worse than just being abandoned.

It wouldn’t come to that, he knew. He could keep up with Shoto. And no matter what he did, Shoto wouldn’t leave him. If nothing else, Katsuki knew Shoto wouldn’t for the single fact that it would upset Izuku if he did.

They set off immediately, which Katsuki thought was strange. He had the vague sense that if he were alone and simply walked out of the village, someone might try to stop him. Question him at least. While he had never seen anyone leave the village for any length of time, he had heard people talking about hunting parties and scouting parties, but such groups were tracked as they came and went. Katsuki was under the impression that they should have at least told someone they were leaving, but Shoto walked into the dark between the trees without so much as glancing back, so he did the same. No one called after them as they dipped into the shadows and disappeared. No one ran to catch up to them. Within just a few steps, they were alone.

Almost immediately, Katsuki felt the suffocating presence of the trees like vices around his chest. They were too close, the roots tangled at his feet, the branches swooped low at his head. The last time he’d walked that forest, he’d been a rogue. Unmoored and traitorous, dragging his two latest companions behind him. Noticing how close the trees leaned was a luxury. Survival had meant ignoring the terror of the forest closing in on all side, above and below.

But he wasn’t unmoored anymore. Behind him, he could still hear the muffled bustle of the village, the thumping of footsteps and the snapping of clothes on the line, the odd laugh or shriek piercing the thickest forest silence. Whatever anchored him to the village pulled at him, demanding his return. He hated the forest, didn’t he? He didn’t want to leave the small openings between the canopy that the village provided, right?

And what about the last time he’d left the village? Hadn’t he returned to only blood and ash?

Shoto was moving quickly away from him, adept at stepping on some roots and over others, using the natural bends of the trees to propel himself forward. Soon, he would be too far away for Katsuki to see. Soon, he’d have no choice but to go back to the village. But at least he had that option still.

Then, Shoto lifted his head. “If you’re coming, then come. We have a ways to go still.” He waited there, perched on a particularly gnarled root, lifted up to survey the forest. The elevation didn’t set right with Katsuki’s head. He wasn’t used to looking up so far.

Something about this thought shook him free. The anchor to the village loosen, though it didn’t fall completely away, feeding Katsuki enough room to move forward.

“I told you I’d keep up. Don’t patronize me,” he snarled as he clambered up the roots to join Shoto. In his climbing, he realized it wasn’t roots they were climbing over, but a long-felled tree, twisted up in the roots of all the other trees around it. Even in death, it remained a part of the forest, rather than simply rotting away.

Once he was close enough to not get lost, Shoto turned and continued their journey. He kept his pace slow but steady, giving Katsuki the opportunity to keep up while accommodating his admittedly cumbersome navigation of the forest. Katsuki didn’t remember having so much trouble moving through the forest, but he also hadn’t been inclined to try climbing up weird root structures like Shoto was. He’d avoided the hard paths while Shoto dove straight through them. Odd choice, especially since Katsuki’s inelegant stumbling was too loud for them to hunt much of anything.

“What are we hunting?” Katsuki asked Shoto far too long in their trek.

Shoto didn’t turn back to answer him. “Rogues.”

Katsuki stilled, but only for a moment. Then he did his best to close the distance between him and Shoto. “You want to go after Alpha and his pack?”

“I want to go after signs of where they are,” Shoto replied.

“Haven’t you sent people to look for signs already?”

“I haven’t gone myself.”

Katsuki thought it was ridiculous he seemed convinced he’d find something that his scouts hadn’t, but he also understood the burning need to do something with his own hands. It was a familiar impulse for most alphas, but also for people with something to prove. And if anything, Shoto was clearly a man with something to prove.

“Well then. What’s your grand plan?”

“Go to the ridge. See if the forest looks different anywhere at all. Track them through the leaves.”

It sounded like nonsense, but Katsuki didn’t say that out loud. He only gave a short scoff to confirm he’d heard.

They lapsed into silence afterward, and it was a long silence. They moved through the forest at a good pace, though clearly slower than Shoto was wanting. Every now and then, he would turn and glare at Katsuki, clearly contemplating leaving him behind, but then he’d turn to glare into the forest while he waited. Katsuki did his best to keep up and as the hours wore on, he started understanding how Shoto moved was purposeful. He moved with a kinetic energy propelled by the roots themselves, digging into places where he could push off and gain more leverage, more speed. Soon enough, Katsuki started learning a few of those spots, pushing himself forward until Shoto didn’t have to stop completely to wait for him.

It took them hours to reach the ridge. By the time they did, the sun was setting, the forest getting dark. Katsuki peered through the dark, thankful he could still see between the shadows as well as he used to. Daylight hours were a little trickier, his left eye gone soft and sensitive to the light, but the dark bled into him and he found it all the easier to see the footholds in the roots that kept him moving forward.

Until, that is, they reached a wall of rock. Katsuki didn’t really know what else to think of it.

The rock was gray-brown, ripples of color layered on top of one another. It rose up and up and up, cresting at a gentle angle that took it out of sight. Jagged bits stuck out not quite like a ladder, but enough to prove it could be climbed.

Shoto leaped at these handholds without pausing, climbing up the rock even faster than he’d moved through the forest. Katsuki snarled after him, struggling to pull himself up. He wasn’t used to huge rocks like this. The most he’d ever seen on the plains was the boulders by the river, run smooth on one side by the constant press of water. Those boulders had been taller than him, but he’d still been able to reach up and hook his fingers to their top.

It took him forever to climb this damn rock. Shoto had vanished over the top a while ago, but Katsuki could still hear the other alpha prowling above him. Probably waiting for him to catch up.

He snarled as he reached for the next handhold, only to find smooth rock. Grateful, he yanked himself up, his arms aching, shaking, as he lifted his head over the rock.

Sunlight.

It was so sharp and warm that he froze, half convinced something had gone wrong. The rock under his hands was warm to the touch, gritty with tiny pebbles of dirt. The rest of his body, hung over the side still, was cold and limp, and it took more effort than he expected to heave himself over the rock and into the light.

Yes. It really was sunlight. It drenched him, bathed him, coated him like a warrior’s greeting after a long hunt. In his village, the bravest of warriors were welcomed back by the pack crowding in around them, reaching out, running their hands over their bodies, the warm palms smearing sweat over their tired chests and arms, little children slapping at their shins.

Katsuki had never been welcomed back as a warrior. He had reached out to other warriors before, welcomed them back with equal measure envy and pride. Envious, waiting for his time. Proud, to know a warrior as great as them.

He imagined the feeling must be the same. The sunlight tingled his skin and pressed on his chest, trailed off his arms and patted at his shins. On top of that rock, he stood in glory as sunlight welcomed him back.

Then it was gone, just a blink, enough to startle Katsuki awake before it drenched over him again.

In the blaring light, he had a hard time seeing what was in front of him, but he knew it was Shoto, pacing back and forth. The other alpha hadn’t noticed his moment of bliss, too focused on surveying something below them. When Katsuki squinted, he saw a dark rolling field spread out at their feet. Or no, not a field. What looked like shifting grasses were in fact scattering leaves, the tops of the trees knit together in one long, undulating blanket. It was shocking to think the forest could look so much like home from so far above.

The sight jolted him back to what they were doing, why they were there. He lifted his chin to feel the sunlight on his throat for a heartbeat longer, then said to Shoto, “Well? Anything out of place?”

Shoto replied with a growl, still prowling back and forth. Katsuki had no idea what he could possibly be looking for across the shifting canopy. But, when he thought about it, he could remember staring out over the plain and picking out those little movements just out of time. The wave of wind broken by something that shouldn’t have been there. No doubt if Shoto had tried to spy something in the grass, he would never be able to, but Katsuki would have noticed that little gap where something lay hidden.

He cast a glance out over the trees, wondering what Shoto could see that he couldn’t.

And he saw a gap.

At first, he thought he must have simply been seeing things. The sunlight was blinding him and he had no experience spying problems in a forest. But the canopies rolled in the winds so much like grass, and he saw where they parted around something.

“Look,” Katsuki nudged Shoto to a stop and pointed out to the gap. Shoto followed his gaze, stiffening when the winds skipped over a slit in the trees. “That look right to you?”

Shoto didn’t say anything. He stepped closer, right up to the edge of the rock. It dropped off at a shear cliff right at his toes, but Shoto didn’t seem to notice. He stared and stared out for a long while. Katsuki watched as well, looking for anything else out of place, until he noticed the sun cooling.

He turned to watch as the sun slid down, dipping below the trees. The sunlight trailed low on his body, off his face, cresting down his chest and finally slipping off his limbs. Then the light faded back to the sky, coloring it in brilliant arcs of red and purple. Then, it slipped farther away, and night passed over them. It was cold and quiet. The forest hushed beneath them, the constant shhh of leaves begging them to rest.

That gap remained, even as Katsuki’s vision improved in the dark. There was something there the forest didn’t want to acknowledge. A place where a knife had slipped through skin, the skin left peeled open from the wound.

Shoto shifted. He’d stopped pacing a while ago to watch the forest, but now he turned his back to it.

“That’s enough,” he said.

Katsuki took one last look at the gap before following him. “You want to investigate?”

“It’s not in our territory,” Shoto said. There was something final and frustrated in his tone.

Katsuki let it go. It wasn’t his place to pressure the alpha into action. And, if he had to guess, action would be coming. He would only have to be ready for it.

He took one last, long look out over the trees, letting himself believe it was the plains spread out before him. Then he turned and dropped back under the leaves, burrowing into the earth and away from the sun.

Chapter Text

Katsuki’s absence was noticed first when he didn’t appear at dinner and couldn’t be found anywhere else, raising alarms throughout the village. Then it was discovered that Shoto was also missing. The news spread in a wave of quiet through the village, confusion ringing between open stares. The pack didn’t know what to make of these two in particular simply vanishing from the village. Izuku worried, of course, but he would have worried about anyone. More so, Toshinori worried, hiding it as best he could, though Izuku could see the strain in his jaw.

The sun set and still the village fretted, then the night deepened and the village rustled, then the morning hours threatened with thin fingers of light and finally two figures appeared through the trees. When the alphas stepped into the village, they were greeted immediately, enthusiastically, and with utmost suspicion. The warriors guarding the village snarled in their direction while the rest of the pack yipped and yelped at their return, grateful they had come back.

At first, the warriors held them just at the edge of the village, refusing to be moved even when Shoto snarled at them. Only when Toshinori called for them to come forward were they allowed to step beyond the perimeter. They were brought before the pack alpha, Izuku sitting on his left and Mirai at his right. Toshinori watched the young alphas approach, his worry hidden behind anger.

“Speak,” he said mostly to Shoto.

Both alphas were knelt before Toshinori, Katsuki having followed Shoto’s lead in dropping to his knees. Shoto kept his head lowered when he spoke, “To the ridge. To see if we could find signs of Alpha’s influence in our territory.”

“You left alone?” Toshinori was barely holding back a snarl.

“No. I went with Katsuki. He is an accomplished warrior.” Katsuki moved as if to lift his head, but stayed down as Shoto spoke. “Everyone else was needed here. And I needed to see for myself.”

“Reckless, both of you,” that snarl edged into Toshinori’s voice at this, but then he sighed and shut his eyes. After a moment, he opened them again, his anger bled dry. “I’m glad you two are all right. But neither of you had permission to leave the village. We thought something terrible might have happened. We thought someone had attacked you two, or taken you from the village.”

Shoto ducked his head a little more. “Apologies, Alpha. We are both okay.”

“You will do no such thing again. And for this, you will be made to repay the village their pains.” Toshinori paused as Katsuki stiffened. Then he said, “Have yourselves taken care of. The pack needs your reassurance.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Shoto said. Katsuki eyed the crowd around them cautiously.

With that done, Toshinori stood and stepped away, clearly not ready to take his own reassurances from them. The sharp dismissal from the pack alpha stayed everyone else. For a moment, both alphas were left abandoned in the center of a circle, all eyes turned inward but no one willing to step forward.

It was, of course, Izuku who crossed that line first. He went to Shoto, the young alpha lifting his head enough for Izuku to collapse into him, whimpering quietly.

“Reckless,” he repeated, the word sour in his ears. When Shoto didn’t reply, Izuku stepped away to look him in the face. “Why?”

“I have to find them. Stop them,” Shoto replied. There wasn’t an apology anywhere in his voice.

Sighing, Izuku dipped his head into the crook of Shoto’s neck and scented him deeply. It was instantly grounding, a moment of heartbeats steadying and muscles unwinding. Shoto eased into the scenting, didn’t dare to growl when Izuku buried his nose into the alpha’s throat. Izuku felt the pulse of blood just under his skin. If he’d wanted to, he could have dug his teeth into Shoto’s throat and ripped it out. Had he thought it just punishment, the pack would have stood in witness to his judgment and allowed Shoto to choke on his own blood.

Instead, he drew back, stepped away as Shoto’s brothers came forward. Their rituals were a quiet affair, but deeply personal. Touya and Natsuo welcomed their brother back by pressing their faces to Shoto’s, the gesture intimate and scared. Touya was rougher than Natsuo, snarling right in Shoto’s ear to admonish him, and Shoto allowed him to do so without reply. Still, they welcomed their brother back, reassured both him and themselves that he was well and still part of the pack.

As they did so, Izuku turned to Katsuki.

The other alpha had watched the exchange with pinpointed eyes, his jaw set and his fists clenched. Despite how he remained knelt in the grass, he looked ready to burst up and into a fight. There was a faint, trembling line to his shoulders. Izuku wondered if Katsuki was afraid, and what he might be afraid of.

He stepped forward and reached for Katsuki just as he had Shoto. Unlike Shoto, Katsuki moved away, clearly unsure what was happening.

Izuku glanced around the pack, lowered his voice, and said, “It’s all right. No one will hurt you. We are welcoming you home.”

Katsuki’s eyes remained pinpointed, but he didn’t pull away when Izuku pressed closer. He didn’t dip his head into Katsuki’s neck as he had Shoto, but contented himself by pressing their cheeks together, feeling the alpha’s jaw loosen at the touch, his eyes flutter closed.

So close, Katsuki smelled fresh, grassy. Suntouched, with sweat still run down his neck. Izuku had never noticed just how much the alpha smelled like an open field.

He leaned up toward Katsuki’s ear. “Are you going to be okay if the others come to greet you?”

Katsuki rumbled deep in his chest. “Fine,” he said. Izuku examined him for signs of distress, but if anything Katsuki was more relaxed than he’d seen in a while.

He remembered again that Katsuki was used to being led by an omega, was used to taking orders from someone like him. So he lowered his voice a little more and said, “Let the pack welcome you back. If you get overwhelmed, just keep your head down. And when that’s over, come to the council room. You and Shoto will be due to give your respects to my father.”

Katsuki growled low, though Izuku came to understand he was simply agreeing. With that done, Izuku drew back and stepped away. Almost immediately, Eijiro was right there, greeting Katsuki with a slap to the shoulder and a stern look before collapsing into the alpha in relief.

“Thought something bad had happened,” he said.

Katsuki didn’t look at the beta. “I’m fine,” he said, only lifting his gaze as his other friends crowded around him.

The pack shuffled forward to reorient themselves with their missing pieces, slotting them back where they belonged without much trouble. Izuku watched for a while, just to make sure everything was going well and Katsuki didn’t seem too overwhelmed with everything, but Shoto seemed the less comfortable of the two. Katsuki took the attention in stride, if a bit confused by how many came to greet him, while Shoto bristled when his father leaned in and said something in a low whisper. Enji didn’t seem upset, either angry or worried. And yet, Shoto still clearly fought a snarl as his father leaned in toward him.

When Enji had walked away, leaving the rest of the pack to do as they wished, Izuku turned to follow his father into the council room. They would wait for the alphas there and give their final judgments away from the pack.

Inside, the fire was blazing, Toshinori framed by the light. His head was bowed slightly and his jaw was loose. When Izuku came to sit next to him, he let out a great sigh.

“How is the pack reacting?” He asked.

“Well. Even to Katsuki.” Izuku knew what his father had really been asking.

Toshinori nodded and said nothing more.

It was some time before the door opened again and the two alphas stepped inside. Shoto kept his head held high, smelling strongly of his family. Katsuki reeked as well, though his was a more broad spectrum from many different pack members. Since he had no one family to claim him, he smelled of the pack most of all. And by the look on his face, he’d realized exactly why this was considered part of their punishment.

It was a marker, both to the alphas, the pack, and anyone else they may run into. They were part of the whole pack, and this was a reminder of that. Neither of them would be able to get the smell off of them for several days, carrying around a reminder of how they had displeased the pack as well as the fact that they were part of the pack and needed to act for the whole.

For alphas in particular, carrying around such a strong smell was obnoxious. It went against their nature to smell so strongly of anything. Betas and omegas might be more used to it – especially if they had a territorial alpha as a partner – but it was less common for alphas to have strong scents.

Shoto, used to the pack smell, was only mildly irritated by the smell, but Katsuki’s shoulders were hunched defensively. His eyes snapped around the room, searching for anyone hiding. No doubt his sense of smell was overrun by his own scent, rendering part of him unable to sense danger.

There wasn’t anyone hiding in the shadows, no one ready to pounce on the two. It was only Toshinori and Izuku, sitting behind the fire. Izuku had taken a seat slightly farther from his father than usual, leaving the pack alpha space to be upset in his own ways. As Shoto and Katsuki took a seat across the fire from him, he looked up.

“Tell me again. Why did you leave?” He focused on Shoto.

Shoto ducked his head in reply. “I had to do something. Find something to lead us to where Alpha is hiding. I know we hadn’t sent scouts to the ridge yet and I needed to go see for myself. So I went.”

Toshinori never once blinked as Shoto spoke, and when he was done he turned that look to Katsuki. Katsuki stiffened and his lip thinned, nearing a snarl. He kept it down by breathing deeply through his nose.

“And you. Why did you leave?”

Katsuki tilted his head. Something in the gesture felt aborted, too sharp to be complete, a movement cut short. His chin dipped forward but Izuku could tell it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I went to make sure Shoto was going to be okay.”

“And did you think nothing of what it might do to the pack, to know you had both gone?” Toshinori spoke to both of them, but he watched Katsuki.

Katsuki didn’t quite know how to respond to this question, but Shoto spoke confidently, “The pack will be more hurt by whatever Alpha is planning than by us being gone for a night. I thought of going to the main ridge, and you know that’s a much farther distance than where we went.”

Toshinori’s nostrils flared. So close, Izuku felt the heat building in his father, a pressure fluttering just under his skin. In years gone by, his form would have already been morphed, larger, taller, broader. Enough to take up an intimidating amount of space. Now, Toshinori struggled to keep it contained. Such gestures did more harm than good, to those sitting before Toshinori and to Toshinori himself.

“And did you not think,” the pack alpha said slowly, “how much damage would be done to our pack had you two gone missing? If something had happened and you never returned? How would the pack feel to be missing two of our young warriors? And what would it mean to lose two of our strongest just when we need them most?” The pack alpha stared hard at Katsuki, who had stiffened at each word, his eyes going wide and distant. “What would you have done if something had happened to us while you were gone?”

Shoto leaned back, clearly stunned. Katsuki sat there, too still. He looked haunted, and Izuku could only imagine by what.

Toshinori let his questions linger as if he expected an answer, but when none came, he sighed. “Not to mention the ridge is dangerous this time of year. The rock eagles will be nesting soon. Even the two of you would have had trouble had you run into a pair of them. There’s a reason we haven’t sent anyone out there to investigate.”

Shoto looked away. “I know. That’s why I didn’t go alone.”

“You really think the two of you would fair well against a pair of rock eagles?” Toshinori snorted. “I doubt Katsuki even knows what a rock eagle is. And just because you’ve seen one of their nests doesn’t mean you know what they’re like when they’re preparing to lay eggs. They’d rip you apart before you even noticed they were there. And let’s not forget that Alpha’s pack is out there, somewhere. I don’t even want to consider what they might have done if they’d seen an opportunity to do something to two of our young.” He seemed to want to add something more, but let his thought end there.

“You’re back now. And I am glad for that. But you will be made to repay the pack our worry. Understood?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Shoto said with a bow of his head.

Katsuki said nothing. He was still looking farther away than anything in that room.

“Katsuki?” Toshinori called. His eyes flickered, but he otherwise didn’t move.

The pack alpha hesitated, clearly unsure what to do. Izuku could see the want in his father to go over to Katsuki and comfort him, but also his want to stay at the head of the conversation. As much as Toshinori wanted to be a father, he was the pack alpha first.

So Izuku stood. It was his duty, equally as the aeon, to step in where his father could not. He walked slowly and deliberately over to Katsuki, knelt at his side a distance away. Again, Katsuki’s eyes flickered. It was almost like he was trapped in a nightmare, the world around him a veil he couldn’t see through.

Izuku reached out and touched his knee and Katsuki took in a sharp breath, his pupils instantly narrowing.

“It’s okay,” Izuku told him.

Katsuki looked away. He kept his head low. “I understand.”

“Very well.” Toshinori paused, perhaps waiting for Katsuki to say something else. Then he pushed himself to his feet. “I will think on how you can repay the pack. Do the same. After supper, we will decide.” He swept from the room without another word.

As soon as he had gone, Shoto burst to his feet. He was strumming with energy suddenly, his teeth grinding together so hard Izuku could hear it.

“Shoto,” Izuku tried to call, but the alpha had turned to follow Toshinori, his steps sharp and purposeful. He wouldn’t look back no matter how much Izuku called for him.

“Let him go.”

Katsuki’s voice, steady and unwavering, made Izuku pause. The alpha had tilted his head to watch Shoto leave, and now he turned his gaze to Izuku. “We found something. Since dear old dad didn’t ask about it, Shoto will want to make sure he knows.”

Izuku’s throat went dry. He swallowed so he could speak. “You… found something?”

“Don’t know what. But it was something. More than what we’ve had before.” Katsuki’s eyes unfocused again, then he blinked and his pupils opened to a sharp oval shape. “You look tired, shula.”

It was an observation bookended by a soft tug. Even if Katsuki hadn’t touched him, Izuku felt the draw of his name on Katsuki’s tongue. He closed his eyes. “We’ve been waiting for you all night.”

“Then you should get some sleep.” It didn’t feel like a question, but Izuku swore there was something more to it. When he said nothing, Katsuki sighed. “I’ll keep watch if you’d like.”

Ah. There it was. Katsuki didn’t want to leave his side.

Izuku sat back on his heels, letting himself get a little more comfortable. “What did you find? Was it bad?”

“No. I don’t know what it was. Just something out of place.” Katsuki wouldn’t look at him.

“Well. Something seems wrong. Tell me?” He lowered his voice, a secret shared between them. I will listen, he hoped Katsuki understood, to anything you want to say.

Katsuki’s eyes rolled shut. Almost as if he were drifting into dreams. He said nothing for a long while. Then, “I miss the sunlight.”

Izuku blinked. “What? There’s sun every day.”

“Not like what I had where I come from.” He kept his eyes closed but his head tilted up, face toward the ceiling. Or, the sky. The sun. Izuku remembered all the times he’d found Katsuki lingering in the patches of sunlight that flickered between the trees, how the alpha sought out those squares and only seemed to relax while laying in them.

“Oh.” Izuku pulled at his thumb, unsure what to say or do.

Luckily, Katsuki spoke first, “On the ridge, I got to see the sun set. I got to feel it on my skin. Didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.” He let his eyes open. “Your dad said it’s dangerous, where we went.”

Or, in other words, it wouldn’t be a smart idea for him to go back. For him to watch the sun set again sometime soon.

Izuku tried to smile, even though Katsuki wasn’t paying enough attention to notice. “Not all the time. Just this time of year. Once the rock eagles are done nesting, it’s a great place to go. Shoto and I used to go there all the time.”

“Used to?” Katsuki finally glanced over to him.

Izuku found he could smile a little more convincingly when the alpha was watching him. “That may have been one of those ill-advised adventures I used to convince Shoto to take me on. But plenty of others still go to the ridge to play. There are lots of places in the forest where there’s not so many trees, too. There’s a glade with a waterfall not too far away. You can see the moon in it, so I’m sure you can see the sun too.”

Katsuki tilted his head, a silent question.

“I’d love to show you around the territory. Once this is all over.” Izuku muttered. He found himself fiddling with his hands and he wasn’t quite sure why.

Katsuki grunted. “Well. Maybe someday soon, shula. Think I’d like that.”

“Good. I’d like that too.” Izuku smiled, then startled and cleared his throat. “I, uh, guess this means you’re thinking of staying around long enough to get a tour?”

“I’ll be here as long as you let me be here.”

Izuku didn’t like the way he said it. As if he had no other choice. “Because you have nowhere else to go?”

This time, when Katsuki tilted his head toward Izuku, it was with that smirk, too many teeth and his eyes half-lidded. “I think we can admit I like being here to watch how you squirm.”

Izuku made an effort not to shift even as he felt his cheeks warming. “Well. I hope you know we like having you here.”

“We?” Katsuki pressed.

Izuku finally had to look away. He cleared his throat to regain some composure. “I like having you here. We all do. Well, mostly.” He added, remembering the quiet grumblings that accompanied Katsuki whenever he happened to walk past the more grouchy members of the pack. “In any case, we want you here. And if you want to be here, then that works well, doesn’t it?”

“I guess it does.” Katsuki’s smile faded at the edges. He was looking at Izuku strangely, askew, not quite able to meet his gaze. At first, Izuku thought he might be remembering the past again, maybe imagining his village and those he’d lost, but the alpha suddenly turned toward him. “I’m going to ask you about something, and I’d like if you didn’t get mad at me.”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.” Izuku was surprised, wondering what had given Katsuki the impression he couldn’t ask him questions.

It made a little more sense when Katsuki asked, “What are your courting rituals here?”

This time, Izuku didn’t feel a hot rush of anger at the question. He didn’t immediately feel the need to bare his teeth and assert his own autonomy to this pushy alpha. Instead, he felt a rush of something else entirely. And he could not let Katsuki see it.

“Oh, well, uh,” he cleared his throat. He couldn’t decide if holding eye contact was more revealing than looking away and in the end he realized he’d looked at Katsuki then away and back at least twice before he cleared his throat again. “There are usually two ways it happens. It always begins the same though: an omega announces their courting season, officially marking them as wanting to find a mate. Candidates are gathered for the omega to choose from and are presented to them during the first week. From there, the season can go a few different ways, depending on what the omega is looking for in a mate, and usually ends with a huge celebration when a mate is chosen. Or the omega can choose to take no one and they go out of season, so to say, until they’re ready to try again. That’s kind of the overall process.” He realized he was rambling and stopped talking.

Katsuki had listened quietly, but as Izuku had kept talking his smile had grown. “You said there were two ways,” he prompted.

Izuku blinked, realizing he hadn’t actually explained much of anything. “Uh, yes. Well, the first one would be the omega has already chosen a mate. In that case, they would announce their courting season as usual, candidates would be presented, and the next day the omega would simply announce they had chosen a mate. Usually in this case, only the chosen mate is presented as a candidate. No point in embarrassing anyone else. If a mate hasn’t been chosen, then the candidates compete for the omega’s hand through acts of service and strength, whatever the omega wishes to see.”

“That’s a rather complicated process,” Katsuki said.

“It’s not that bad, if you’re used to it. It can actually be a lot of fun for the whole pack.” Izuku realized he was fiddling with his hands too much. “What about your pack? How does it work usually?”

“The intending alpha tells the omega’s parents they want to court their child. Then they proceed to offer gifts and acts of loyalty to the omega. If the omega deems them worthy, usually there’s a fight of some sort. One omega girl fought every single one of her suitors, saying she’d only choose a mate if they could beat her in a fight. No one ever did.” Katsuki bared his teeth in a delighted sort of way, the memory still a happy one, then added, “Didn’t go that way most of the time. Usually the sire or a brother fought for them. Or, if you were unlucky, the mother.”

“And if the alpha won, they got to mate with the omega?” Izuku asked. He was more than a little skeptical of the process.

“Ha. Maybe. Sometimes we just liked the excuse to fight one another.”

Both fell silent for a long second. Perhaps they were both searching for something to say, something they wanted the other to hear. The weight of what they’d been through, what they’d talked about, pressed uncomfortably on Izuku’s chest. He didn’t want this to be so serious. He didn’t want this to be so awkward. He could tell that Katsuki was getting tried again, unable to stay in the present as the past yanked his heels. It wasn’t fair to him, to be caught between being here and there, and even if Izuku knew it wasn’t necessarily his fault or his place to do something about it, he wanted to.

He wanted to take Katsuki’s hands and tell him everything would be okay now, that he had a home and they weren’t going to leave him, that they would fight for him as much as he had fought for himself. That he could relax and let go and nothing bad was going to happen.

Which was hard to say when they were facing a rogue pack bent on doing them harm. He knew Katsuki wouldn’t appreciate him spewing lies to try to comfort him.

So instead, he found himself saying, “My father would absolutely beat you in a fight.” Then he blinked, watching as Katsuki tilted his head to smirk at him. Realizing the implication of what he’d just said, Izuku added, “So don’t try to. For fun or otherwise.”

“Lucky for me, I’ve been told that’s not the usual way things go here.” Katsuki was teasing him again. But Izuku was okay with that.

“Please don’t try to fight anyone. At least, not for real. Keep it somewhat friendly.”

Katsuki grinned in a way that said he’d do exactly what he wanted, no matter what Izuku asked of him. But Izuku knew he wouldn’t hurt anyone. And if he did end up in a fight, that the other person probably provoked him into it.

Still, Izuku sighed and shook his head as Katsuki pushed himself to his feet. “I’m going to go see if Kaya will let me sleep in her place a little. She’s angry as hell, but maybe she’s calmed down enough to let me have a few hours of rest.”

“If she doesn’t, you can sleep in my dwelling if you’d like.”

He said it too quickly, and the silence that followed was too long. Izuku wanted to slap his own cheek for saying something like that. After the talk they’d had about mates and traditions, why the hell had he thought it was okay to tell Katsuki that he could sleep in his dwelling? Why had he told Katsuki he could sleep in his dwelling at all? Why had that been the first thing to come to mind?

“Uh, I mean—” Izuku scrambled for something to say, but stopped when Katsuki offered his hand. He took it and the alpha pulled him to his feet, then stepped away, leaving a polite distance between them.

“If she kicks me out, I’ll find a nice patch of grass to sleep in. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that.” He made an aborted movement with his hand, lifting it up only to drop it back down. “Get some sleep yourself, all right? And don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“R-right. If you need something…,” Izuku’s words trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say anymore.

Katsuki lifted a hand in understanding and slipped back out into the village.

Alone, Izuku stared after him, straining to hear his footsteps walking away. When he couldn’t hear anything anymore, he sank back to the ground and buried his face in his hands.

“Stupid,” he chided, then swept his hands to press into his cheeks. They were hot to the touch. He stared into the fire, muttering again, “Stupid.”

He sat there until someone came looking for him – Izuku didn’t even really pay attention to who it was – and when they called his name, he set aside everything he had said to Katsuki and everything Katsuki had said to him, answering the call with a smile that could fool almost anyone.

Chapter Text

Izuku flustered too easily nowadays. And Katsuki really didn’t know what to do about it.

On one hand, it was fun for a little while, knowing all he had to do was show his teeth to get the omega to squirm, but the appeal faded quickly. Not that teasing Izuku got boring, but he realized that something was wrong and this sort of teasing wasn’t the fun kind. Izuku was genuinely uncomfortable about something, and Katsuki didn’t want to cause him discomfort in any way.

And there was the small matter of his own feelings for Izuku, all tangled up in what was surely part of what was bothering the omega.

Luckily, as part of his punishment for leaving the village without permission, he had been assigned to help Kaya in her gardens and that gave him very little time to consider what everything might mean. Toshinori had given his sentence that night at supper, with the entire pack to witness. Shoto had been assigned to lookout duty, which apparently was dull and tiresome work thought of as beneath someone of his caliber, for the following five days. Shoto had accepted his punishment without argument, though he remained clearly on edge. Katsuki wondered if Toshinori hoped some time alone in the lookout towers would give him time to work through whatever was bothering him.

Likewise, Katsuki was assigned to help Kaya in her garden for the next five days, hard work that put him directly under Kaya’s command. She had always been somewhat commanding of him, but this was clearly a bit more official than before. Still, Katsuki was glad it wasn’t anything worse. In his own pack, if he’d displeased the pack and earned himself a condemnation, he might have been forced to spend the next week out in the open, no matter the weather, or if it was egregious enough he might be physically punished. Although Katsuki had spoken to Izuku of such pack traditions, he’d still half expected his punishment to be much harsher.

Despite how easy of a sentence it seemed, Kaya was more than content to get her due’s worth from him. She set him to work immediately in some of the most grueling parts of her garden, where the soil was thick and needed to be turned and delicate seeds needed to be planted and weeds had to be torn free. In a way, Katsuki relished the work. The pull of his muscles toward a goal, the way the garden shone once he stepped back. Kaya, of course, could simply flick her wrist and get some of the work done with her blessing, but she claimed that cheating her way through a garden like hers would only weaken the roots of her plants. Since he didn’t know enough to argue, Katsuki didn’t and he did as she demanded without complaint, growing a slow appreciation to what he was doing.

When his five days were done and over, he went to Kaya again and asked her what she needed done in the garden. Kaya smiled and directed him to a patch of squash that needed tending. That night, Katsuki was asked to join the head table for the first time since his punishment began and noticed the squash he had yanked from the ground being roasted by Soren. When he caught Izuku’s eye, the omega smiled knowingly. It was one of the best meals he’d ever had.

It was the next day he made his decision. Maybe it would lead to nothing. Maybe he was a damn fool for even considering it. Either way, he had to try. And even after what Izuku had explained to him, he only knew how to do it his way.

So the next day, while working in the garden, Katsuki spotted again the beautiful red spider lilies that grew nearest to her dwelling, the same ones she said got peevish if they were ignored. Apparently they were quite contented that day; they were bright against the green grass, a beautiful contrast.

He stared at them for a long moment.

“Kaya!” He shouted over his shoulder. “I want one of these.”

The old woman didn’t even look up from her work. “Pah! Almost sounds like you were asking for something.”

“I need one of these,” he tried again.

“Well now I’m just curious what a young alpha like yourself could need with some flowers,” Kaya did at least glance over her shoulder this time.

Katsuki paused. He ran his fingers over the thin petals, feeling how soft they were, how they curled around his fingers. “These are beautiful,” he said, waiting for when she stood to look over at him. “Would make someone real happy to be given something like this.”

This time, Kaya narrowed her eyes at him then gave her consent with a dip of her head. “Don’t do it yourself. I’ll get one for you when you finish up here.”

He completed his work for the day, then waited as patiently as he could before Kaya came over and coaxed one of the lilies to peel itself from the ground. “There. It’ll last a little bit longer if you give it some water.” She handed it to him.

Katsuki threaded the stem into his hair and said nothing else, ignoring the strange look Kaya gave him, and turning to search for a spot of sunlight. He found it where he usually did, near the center of the village but slightly away from the main thoroughfare.

Once he’d laid down, he didn’t have to wait long before a shadow fell over him.

“You look cozy.”

Katsuki opened his eyes to Izuku peering down at him. The omega was smiling that fake smile of his. Katsuki wondered what was on his mind that day.

“You look tired,” he countered.

Izuku laughed it off and sat next to him. “I see you raided Kaya’s garden. Does she know you’re stealing flowers to braid your hair now?”

“I asked. She gave it to me.” Katsuki sat up to better face Izuku. He wanted to get this right, even if he had no idea what getting it right would look like.

Izuku kept smiling, but a bit of confusion softened the edges. “You asked for it?”

Without saying anything, Katsuki reached up and pulled the flower from his hair. It sat in the palm of his hand, thin petals curled and dangling between his fingers, bright red in the sun. If he left it there long enough, he imagined the petals would shift and reach up toward the light, much as he did whenever he lay in the sunlight. Strange to think about, maybe.

Putting that thought aside, Katsuki glanced up at Izuku. “May I?”

The omega flushed immediately, but didn’t move away when Katsuki reached out to thread the flower into his hair. Nestled in the green curls, the red petals really brought out the flush in his cheeks.

Izuku brushed his fingers over the flower, eyes turned up as if he could see it. “That’s… very kind of you.”

Katsuki leaned back on his palms to get a better view. “You look nice.”

“Well, that’s better than saying I look tired, I suppose.” Izuku pressed his lips together, clearly thinking over something. Then he let his hand drop into his lap. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

“I finished working with Kaya. Wanted to lounge in the sunlight a little, but didn’t have any thoughts.” He studied the omega’s expression. His cheeks were still too red. “Why? You have a suggestion?”

“Oh! No, I just… was curious.” There it was again. Izuku flustered and unable to string his thoughts into words.

Katsuki laid back down, not knowing how to make the omega more comfortable around him. If he knew why Izuku was so flustered, he could maybe do something about it. But he suspected there was very little that he could do. This was something Izuku was still working through. His interference wouldn’t help the situation any, and, selfish as it felt, it might lead to an outcome he was desperately hoping to avoid if he pushed too much.

They had spoken of courting rituals. He had made his first step. He didn’t know how to proceed thereafter. But he watched as the flush in Izuku’s cheeks crept around to the back of his neck and up along his nose.

“A-anyway,” Izuku waved a hand in his face, a dismissal disguising how he was desperate to wave away the heat in his face. “I just wanted to come over and make sure you were doing okay. You seem happy to keep working with Kaya.”

“Long as she needs the help.” He didn’t bother to say that it felt good to work with her, that she reminded him so much of the old lady who led his pack. Maybe Izuku would guess it and maybe he wouldn’t, but Katsuki wasn’t quite ready to put that thought into words.

“That’s good. Good you found where you want to be within the pack, I mean,” Izuku’s smile had softened more, genuine. He truly was happy. “I know it was hard at first. I knew you’d find where you wanted to be.”

“Kaya is good,” Katsuki said, looking directly into Izuku’s eyes. He waited for the omega to fluster again, but he didn’t, suddenly focused on Katsuki’s face in return.

“She is,” he said simply, quietly.

There was a beat between them. Katsuki and Izuku looked at one another, both clearly holding back. But Katsuki wasn’t going to be the first to cross that line. He knew he couldn’t, knew that even if Izuku wanted him to, it wasn’t his place. So he waited, as Izuku bit his lip, as his lashes fluttered with indecision.

As his hand lifted, reaching out slowly.

Then—

A horn sounded.

Izuku jolted upright immediately. Katsuki did as well, more in reaction to Izuku’s sudden movement. Then again when he heard the pack howling around him, heard them gathering, heard others fleeing. His gut clenched and his hand reached for Izuku, wanting to pull him back, but Izuku shot up.

“Something’s wrong,” he was breathless, eyes wide and following the sound of the horn.

Katsuki was right at his side. “What is it?”

Izuku tilted his head, listening. When the horn sounded again, he sucked in a breath. “Someone is here.”

- - -

The warriors had already gathered at the perimeter and were pacing back and forth, snarling at the approaching group. Katsuki felt a strong pull to join them, felt his head ducking into a defensive hunched position, but he refused to leave Izuku’s side. Izuku seemed torn between shoving his way through the warriors to get a closer look and running in the opposite direction. Every hair on his body was raised and he was also hunched defensively.

Another warrior spotted Izuku and rushed over to them. Katsuki stiffened, thinking he was about to be attacked, but the warrior simply started circling around them, snarling out toward whoever was just in the forest. Another warrior peeled off to join them, patrolling around them protectively. Or, rather, protecting Izuku.

Katsuki stepped to join their pacing but Izuku grabbed his arm and held him back. He was shaking, eyes wide as he watched the dark part of the forest.

Then, just out of sight, someone let out a vicious roar. It was more of a bark, but something in the voice rattled through every bone in Katsuki’s body, the same way Toshinori’s snarls did. He knew without having to see that whoever had just roared was another pack alpha.

All at once, the warriors stilled, the command of this other alpha enough to quiet them for a moment.

“Where’s Toshinori?” A voice called out, the same voice with that same hint of power. He sounded quite upset.

Izuku stepped forward, but the warriors around them growled and stepped in his path. Izuku snapped his teeth in reply but they refused to move. Izuku opened his mouth to speak, only to shrink back as another figure came forward.

Toshinori had not taken his huge, powerful form. But he still radiated power like Katsuki had never known. The wind seemed to kick up around him, casting swirls of dust with each footfall. When the warriors sensed their pack alpha’s arrival, they carefully stepped aside, revealing who was standing right at their perimeter.

There were a dozen, no a score, maybe more, people hunched and swaying just inside the treeline. They kept casting startled looks at the warriors snarling back at them. The way they shifted, Katsuki realized, was their way of keeping just out of view. If they were attacked, they intended to simply blend back into the shadows and attack unseen. Even in their own territory, Toshinori’s pack might have a lot of trouble fighting a pack that seemed to fall back instantly on ambush techniques.

At first it was hard to pick out who the pack alpha was, an odd thing when Toshinori was so instantly recognizable. But eventually, Katsuki picked out the one person who didn’t feel the need to sway. He stood perfectly still in the middle of the forest, though clearly annoyed and with a hitch to his brow that promised danger.

This other pack alpha was shorter than Toshinori, though not exceedingly so, wrapped in dark clothes just slightly too big for his frame. The glint of a knife shone at his waist and a long, scraggly scarf circled his neck, burying his face up to his nose. Even from a distance, Katsuki could see how tired this other pack alpha looked, even with that edge of danger.

Movement just behind the pack alpha caught Katsuki’s attention, though it took him another moment to recognize the figure hunched just behind his alpha. Hitoshi was there, dressed similarly to how he’d looked before, a scout ready to join the frontlines if necessary.

Toshinori planted his feet in the soil just at the edge of the village, claiming the land without speaking a word. The other pack swayed a little more wildly, several backing away to slip into the shadows. They were clearly afraid of Toshinori. But their pack alpha stood his ground, his arms hung loose at his sides and his shoulders relaxed.

“Shota,” Toshinori spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, and they all stilled to listen, “you have some nerve showing up with force after what you’ve demanded.”

Shota’s brow furrowed. He lifted his hand in a clear signal, his pack shuffling away and into the shadows. Toshinori’s warriors snarled in reply, trying to peer through the dark to see where they had gone. Katsuki shifted as well, making sure he was at least a little between Izuku and this other pack. He couldn’t tell if they were preparing to attack, or if they had been signaled to back off.

His answer came when Shota said, “Let’s start at the beginning.” He tucked his hands into loops at his belt and sighed, clearly annoyed. “We received word of a threat near your pack. I sent Hitoshi to report on the situation, and in reply I’ve come myself to ensure the security of both our territories and you greet me with bared teeth.” He shook his head. “I’ll give you one thing, it’s good you’re taking this so seriously. It’s not in your nature to do so, but in a situation like this it’s logical to distrust everyone. But since you’re the one who asked for our help, I’ll need an explanation for why you’re treating my pack this way.”

Toshinori snorted. Steam was starting to pour out of him. His form wavered on the edge of expanding, but something told Katsuki that Shota wouldn’t be intimidated by him. Just what was his deal, anyway? He glanced to Izuku to try to glean something but the omega had stilled and was barely breathing, watching the conversation so intently Katsuki didn’t think he realized anyone else was standing nearby.

“I ask for your help and you demand a price you know I would never pay. Then you come to my pack anyway, as if I would simply give you what you wish.” Toshinori stepped forward again and the ground shook. Behind Shota, Hitoshi growled low, quieting only when his alpha held out a hand. The two pack alphas never let their gazes fall from one another.

“I’ve not demanded a price. Not yet at least. Keep up this act and I might demand some sort of apology.”

Toshinori reached into his robe and took out a thin scroll, wrapped tightly. He tossed it over to Shota, who caught it without a word. “Then what do you call this?”

Shota unrolled the scroll and began reading, with Hitoshi peering over his shoulder. Both of their expressions hardened. When he was finished, Shota retied the scroll and tossed it back. “This isn’t a demand from us. I wouldn’t have made such a demand from anyone.”

“It’s one of your official scrolls,” Toshinori countered.

Behind Katsuki, Izuku had shifted forward, as if he were getting ready to leap into a fight. Katsuki refrained from holding out an arm to bar his way, not yet at least. Something about this confrontation didn’t feel right.

“It is, but it’s not marked correctly. If you’d paid attention, you would have noticed. Instead, you got upset and didn’t bother to read the details.” Shota paused, the air heavy with something unsaid. The other pack alpha reached up to tug his scarf down, revealing his face in full, dark hair patched around his chin and lips. “Do you really think I, more than anyone else, would make a demand of your son like that?” His gaze slowly drifted to Hitoshi as he spoke, then back to Toshinori.

Toshinori’s eyes mirrored the movement, and something uneasy passed over him. Katsuki tried to track the unspoken words, but couldn’t quite interpret it. He reached out and laid a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, feeling a silent vibration through his fingers. Izuku wasn’t quite purring, but it was enough to let Katsuki know he was okay. It was comforting, if nothing else, to feel the omega’s response to his touch.

After a long moment, Toshinori glanced to his warriors. “Stand down. Let them pass. We will speak,” he said these last words to Shota.

Despite their pack alpha’s consent, the warriors stirred restlessly, moving slowly away from the perimeter. Shota watched as they clustered together, still wary of the newcomers, before lifting his hand. At the signal, his pack started appearing in ones and two, slipping from the dark to gather around their alpha. There was equal sense of apprehension and protectiveness that swayed through their ranks.

The warriors around Izuku, however, didn’t break away, keeping close to their aeon. None of Shota’s pack acknowledged his presence, and they didn’t again when Toshinori gestured for Shota to follow him and the two packs carefully stepped toward one another. Toshinori’s warriors broke off and stood in loose lines along the central thoroughfare, silently funneling the other pack toward the council hall. No doubt there would remain tensions until this meeting between alphas was had out.

As the pack was led away, Shota and Hitoshi following closely to Toshinori, Izuku’s guards relaxed and slowly started drifting away. Only when they were far enough away, Katsuki leaned in, noticing that Izuku still hadn’t relaxed.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Izuku vibrated again, and Katsuki recognized it this time by the pull of Izuku’s lips as a growl. “Something’s not right.” He paused a second longer, then stepped forward. He always carried himself with intention, but this was something more. He was more purposeful than Katsuki had ever seen him before. He had something he wanted, and he was going to get it.

Katsuki followed quickly behind, so not to be left alone.

- - -

It hadn’t been Shota’s pack.

Izuku had been wondering for days now who had demanded his hand in exchange for protection, and here was his first clue. His father and Shoto had thought it was Shota’s pack that had made the demands, and now here they were, warriors at the ready to help them. He should have been relieved. He should have stepped forward and offered his hand either way. Anything to save his pack.

But there remained an unsettling question: who had demanded him? And why?

As he hurried to follow his father, he felt a shadow at his heels. A looming shadow. For once, he would have rather had Shoto, who was more used to slipping by unnoticed, not drawing attention. He wanted all attention on him, on what he had to say, on the questions he needed answered.

As if in answer, he felt someone else slide into place at his other side. Shoto had been hiding during the encounter, no doubt readying to counter the ambush tactics that Shota’s pack favored. Izuku had looked for him and his brother and hadn’t seen either of them, but when he swept his gaze around the pack, he noticed Touya trailing slightly behind them, hunched forward and grinning a warning.

“It wasn’t them,” Izuku said, knowing Shoto would understand.

The other alpha growled. “No.”

“Then who?”

Shoto paused. “I don’t know.”

Izuku couldn’t quite stifle his growl.

At his other side, Katsuki loomed a little taller. “What?” He asked.

Izuku felt bad ignoring him, but knew he would find out soon enough. “Stay close,” was all he said in reply. To his credit, Katsuki did just that.

When they reached the council room, his father spotted him and held up a hand. “Not now, Izuku,” he kept his voice low and gentle.

Izuku stepped right up to his father and flashed his teeth, threatening a growl, before shoving his way into the council room. After a short hesitation, Katsuki and Shoto slipped in behind him. No one noticed them. They had all turned at his arrival and stared openly. He wondered what he looked like. He felt flushed, hot, enraged. Certainly not how an aeon should be acting, but he didn’t really care in the moment.

Shota and Hitoshi stood near the door, clearly not wanting to be trapped by the others. When Izuku stormed inside, they both stared at him. Something angry crashed through Izuku at the sight of them, until he reminded himself that they had not actually demanded his hand in exchange for help. In fact, it seemed they’d come to offer aid with no expectations of payment.

So he forced his face into his best approximation of a smile, though he could tell from Hitoshi’s amused look that it was anything but. “Alpha Shota,” he dipped his head. “Thanks for the knife.”

“Knife?” Toshinori had just stepped inside and glanced between both Shota and Izuku.

“Coming of age gift,” Shota clarified. “I had Hitoshi bring it with him on his last trip here.”

This time, Toshinori swung an accusing glare at Izuku, who felt himself bristling again. “You didn’t say anything about a knife.”

“It was a gift for me,” he snapped, fully aware he was acting like a child now. But he didn’t care. “And you didn’t bother to mention to me that someone had demanded I be their mate in exchange for help.”

Toshinori’s accusation turned immediately toward Shoto. “And who told you that?” He asked Izuku.

Izuku growled again. “Who cares. It was my right to know!”

For a second, Toshinori grappled with what to say next. He was clearly aware of Izuku’s fury and Shota and Hitoshi’s presence. Two seemingly conflicted conversations sat before him and he didn’t quite know which one needed his attention first.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Toshinori didn’t see that the two were connected. He was too blinded by the fact that Izuku, his son, had been dragged to the center of this conflict and even removed from immediate danger by the revelation that Shota hadn’t demanded his mating into their pack, there was still a thread to be pulled on between them.

Seeing his father not quite able to pick through what to say, Izuku turned to Shota. “Where did the scroll come from?” He demanded.

Shota narrowed his eyes at the accusation in his voice.

A few others had trickled through the door and now stood in a loose circle between them and the fire. Half the room was empty and the other half crowded, all eyes turned inward. Izuku felt Katsuki tensing at his side but instead of trying to ease that tension, he only felt his hackles raising.

“Someone used your official documents to threaten my pack and myself. You may not have been the one to make demands, but someone tried to frame you for it. So. Where did that paper come from?”

Shota blinked slowly. Despite the obvious tension between everyone, he and Hitoshi seemed halfway amused and halfway confused about the entire situation. “I’ll remind you, Aeon, that I was just informed of this incident. I’ll need time to investigate. As far as I know, no one’s misplaced anything that could have made that scroll.”

“Who carries such documents?” Izuku pressed.

“Myself and Hitoshi. Neither of us would give them up to anyone with ill intention.”

“Willingly, maybe.” Izuku glanced to Hitoshi. “Did you carry any of these documents with you while you were traveling as an envoy?”

Hitoshi thought carefully. “A couple. I brought them in case anything official needed to be reported back to my Alpha.”

“While you were traversing the territories, you slept alone, right? How do you know someone didn’t steal from you while you were sleeping? Did you recount your supplies?”

Hitoshi paused again. Before he could answer, Shota stepped forward. “As I said, we will investigate.” He lowered his chin so his face dipped back under his scarf. Still, Izuku saw the warning glint in his eyes. “I brought my warriors here to aid you against this enemy. You would do well to remember that, and to not accuse us so openly of indiscretions.”

Izuku reeled back as if struck. He’d stepped too far. Crossed over several boundaries. And Shota was reminding him just where he stood.

It was embarrassing to be corrected by a pack alpha who was not his own, especially in front of the leaders of his own pack, but more so than that, Izuku realized how embarrassing it must be for Shota to be scolded by the aeon of all people. The one who was supposed to keep the peace and ease tensions between packmates and packs had reprimanded him. When he cast a glance over the crowd, he spotted Tenna nearby, their own envoy, frowning in disapproval. She would know best how to handle Shota, and she was not happy with this interaction.

Realizing his mistake, Izuku took a breath to calm himself and stepped back, bowing his head low. “I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.”

“You ask good questions, Aeon, but none that we can answer right now. Demanding those answers is not the issue at hand; it’s only that you demand them without giving us the chance to search for the proper answers ourselves.” His gaze slid over to Toshinori, who was watching the exchange closely. Izuku couldn’t quite tell what his father was thinking; he was keeping his emotions in check in front of Shota and Hitoshi. “You would do well to not let your emotions get the better of you. Best to be rational first, especially in moments such as these. But I suppose you did learn from one of the worst in this case.”

“Enough,” Toshinori stepped in at the insult, though he didn’t directly confront Shota on it. They both knew Toshinori could get overly emotional, sometimes for the better and worse. “You’re here to help?”

Shota examined Toshinori. “If allowed.”

Toshinori gestured for Shota and Hitoshi to sit at the fire, waving at the others in the room to do the same. Izuku took a seat at his father’s side as usual, though he paused when Shoto took a seat slightly behind Izuku to his right, between him and his father. He’d always sat with his family before, but he seemed to be making some sort of statement, and honestly Izuku was glad to have him nearby. When Katsuki hesitated, Izuku gestured him join him on his left, which the alpha eventually did. The others settled in their usual seats as well, Mirai on Toshinori’s other side, Enji and his family and Tenna and her family across the fire from them. Shota and Hitoshi took seats still nearest the exit, still slightly uncertain, even if they both looked outwardly relaxed.

Once everyone was settled, Toshinori said, “We will take your help. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I imagine you can appreciate my fury at such demands, especially coming from a pack I have known for so long. I hadn’t thought you would ever ask such a thing.”

Shota waved away a bit of smoke, his demeanor still relaxed. “I understand. Let’s move past it. We have much more important things to address.”

“So we do.” Toshinori shifted, settled, and when he lifted his chin, it was done, just like that.

They started discussing logistics of Shota’s pack, where they would be able to sleep, what they had brought and what expectation of hospitality they could expect. Izuku listened closely, but he said nothing. He still felt a little too jittery to contribute anything helpful.

Halfway through the meeting, he felt Katsuki lean in toward him and he leaned back as well, tilting his ear toward the alpha. Katsuki’s breath washed over his ear and neck and he tensed at the warmth of it, distracted, until Katsuki spoke.

“What they said,” his voice was low, so not to disrupt. But still, Izuku heard the undercurrent of indignation. “Did someone really demand your hand?”

Izuku took a breath. “Shota didn’t.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Izuku paused again. “Yes.”

A breath washed over his skin, hot, slightly damp. A shiver rose up his spine. He hoped no one noticed. “I would like to know who.”

“I would too,” Izuku said, then leaned away to signal the conversation was over.

Still, the rest of the meeting, he was aware of Katsuki’s presence, the lingering warmth of breath at his neck.

- - -

The other pack alpha was watching him. Katsuki knew he was. No doubt Hitoshi had told him about the rogue who had joined up with Toshinori’s pack, but now here he was, sitting at Izuku’s side and no one had thrown him out yet.

It was a bit mystifying that he hadn’t, though he suspected the only reason had been Izuku’s ire at the beginning of the meeting. No one wanted to upset him anymore than he already was. Had someone demanded he leave, Katsuki wasn’t sure how Izuku would have reacted, but for now he enjoyed the fact that the omega seemed to want him nearby.

The flower was still stuck in his hair. No one had commented on that either, though Katsuki had seen a few glance Izuku’s way, a lingering stare at the vibrant red adorning his crown.

Katsuki kept watch, but he said nothing, and he listened carefully. Toshinori and Shota had agreed to most things and were just picking at each other now. It had been long enough that the nerves of the encounter had worn away, but not the fury of learning someone had made such demands of Izuku. The nerve of some people. If he ever found out who it had been, he’d rip them to pieces.

Again, Shota’s gaze slipped over Toshinori’s shoulder to Katsuki. Katsuki didn’t react, keeping passive if a bit annoyed. Then the pack alpha looked away again. He might be a spectacle but at least he wasn’t that much of a distraction. Toshinori might have thrown him out himself if he was, no matter how angry it made Izuku.

Mirai suddenly looked up, as if noticing something, though when Katsuki checked all he saw was the ceiling. He cleared his throat at the next break in conversation.

“Alpha, our guests have traveled a long way. We should indulge them some food and rest. The details can be sorted through once everyone has settled. Plus the warriors will need time to integrate. A meal will do everyone good.” The head beta said smoothly. Katsuki blinked at him. It wasn’t often Mirai stepped in quite so publicly. Everything Katsuki had seen him do was behind the scenes, letting Toshinori keep all attention on him.

Shota though tilted his head toward Mirai with just as much respect that he gave Toshinori. It was probably a slight of some sort, though Katsuki didn’t know the deeper meaning of it and Toshinori didn’t outwardly react to it. “It will do us all some good to share a meal. And I have to speak with my pack anyway. Ensure no one is getting into any trouble.”

“Very well.” Toshinori moved as if to stand but grimaced and sat back. Izuku moved a bit closer to his father, but Toshinori waved him back. “You and Hitoshi will join my family and I?” It was asked as a question, though Katsuki knew it was a demand.

Still, Shota nodded his assent and stood. Hitoshi followed his alpha out, with Mirai rising to lead them away. When they were gone, Tenna sighed.

“I know you don’t always see eye to eye,” she started carefully, and everyone knew she was speaking only to Toshinori, “but he isn’t a liar. He’s come to help.”

“I know.” Toshinori lifted a hand, asking for silence. He sat for a beat, two, thinking. Then, he painfully pushed to his feet, groaning as his bones creaked. “Izuku?”

Izuku offered a short glare in response. He was still upset, it seemed.

“Will you join us?” It was clearly strange for Toshinori to have to ask.

Izuku nodded. “Yes. I am the Aeon, after all.” He stood and Katsuki and Shoto mirrored the movement.

For the first time, Toshinori’s gaze went to Katsuki. Katsuki tensed, unsure if the alpha would be upset he was there, but he said nothing as Izuku stomped away and Katsuki trailed after him.

Outside, Shota’s pack had gathered around their alpha. There was still some tension in the ranks, but more than anything his warriors just seemed happy to see him unharmed. Shota was speaking low to them, just for them to hear, though Katsuki did tilt his head, hoping to catch something of what they were saying.

An elbow to the chest stopped him. “Don’t be improper,” Izuku snapped.

Katsuki felt his guts clench at the command. Izuku had meant it, but Katsuki wanted to nip at his command, show his teeth until the omega snarled at him. Now really wasn’t the time to tease Izuku, but he still tilted his head again toward Shota’s pack and reveled when Izuku silently bared his teeth in reply.

Then Shoto shoved himself between Katsuki and Shota’s pack and the fun ended quite suddenly.

“Will you be okay tonight?” Shoto asked Izuku.

Izuku snorted. “I can handle a meal with a pack alpha. It’s my father I’m annoyed at.”

“I know.”

“But I won’t let it get the best of me. Just have to… take a breath.”

Shoto leaned forward, dipping his head toward Izuku until the omega leaned into the alpha and their cheeks brushed. Something unwound in Izuku’s shoulders. Katsuki remembered the omega had done the same to him upon his return to the village with Shoto. It looked strange watching it happen in front of him. He’d thought he wouldn’t like seeing Shoto so close to Izuku, but he felt nothing. If anything, he was glad to see Izuku looking a little more relaxed when Shoto stepped away.

Just outside the dining hall, Izuku paused. He turned and faced the two alphas for the first time. He’d calmed considerably, and now there was something teary in his expression. Katsuki didn’t quite know what to expect, but wasn’t altogether surprised when Izuku cleared his throat and said, “Um. Thank you both. For. Staying with me. It means. Well, it means a lot.”

“Of course,” Shoto said, as if it was the most natural thing ever. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes. I will. And if I need something, I’ll ask?” There was a hopeful note in his voice.

“Don’t even need to ask. Just tell me.”

Izuku and Shoto shared a smile before Shoto dipped his head and went to join the rest of the pack in the dining hall.

Izuku hesitated long enough that Katsuki knew he was struggling to say something.

“Thought they’d throw me out,” Katsuki spoke first.

Izuku pursed his lips. “I thought they might too. But I’m glad you stayed. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Katsuki lifted his chin slightly, catching how Izuku’s pupils narrowed at the sight of his throat. What was that supposed to mean? Oh, right, he wasn’t supposed to do that. He lowered his chin instead and saw instant disappointment in the omega’s face.

“Do you have someone to eat with tonight?” Izuku asked.

Was he asking that truly, or was he asking a different question? “I can eat with Eijiro and the others anytime. They always keep a spot for me.”

“Ah, good.” Izuku shifted, awkward suddenly. He took a step away, then dipped his head. “Well, I won’t keep you. Enjoy eating with your friends. And thanks again.”

“Anytime,” Katsuki said once more, hoping Izuku heard him. He let the omega slip inside first, watching after him. Then he turned over his shoulder to see Shota and his pack approaching.

Toshinori’s pack was trickling into the hall as well, but Shota’s pack moved as one behind their alpha. So when he stopped a few paces from Katsuki, so did they. All eyes were turned to him, appraising him. Katsuki stared hard at Shota, wondering if it was an insult for his pack as well. If it was, no one reacted.

“You’re the new alpha,” Shota stated simply.

“The rogue, you mean?” Katsuki made sure his teeth peeked between his lips as he spoke.

“If that’s what you identify yourself as.” Shota leaned back to examine him. “Hitoshi said you’re a bit of a hothead.”

Katsuki bristled. “What’s it to you?”

Shota paused, clearly watching his reaction. Then he said, “You offered to go to Tsunagu’s pack to avoid a fight. And yet, here you are.”

To this, he said nothing. He had half a mind to glare at Hitoshi, but knew that he had simply been doing his job by reporting the confrontation between him, Izuku, and the wolves.

Shota looked him over one more time. “You would have done well in his pack, if you’d gone with them.”

Heat flared up Katsuki’s spine. “They would have killed me.”

“Is that what you believe?” There was something of a smile to Shota’s voice, even if he didn’t show it on his face. After another moment to observe him, the pack alpha said, “Are you going inside?”

Even without having Izuku there to explain it, he knew it would have been disrespectful for him to block Shota and his pack’s entrance into the dining hall, or even to go in first himself. And part of him really wanted to let Shota know how unamused he’d been by the interrogation.

But—

But he wanted to represent something different. Toshinori’s quiet strength. The spark in Izuku’s eyes. The way they spoke kindly to one another, and always, always stood in the gap when someone needed help. Toshinori’s pack was one of honor. Something not foreign to Katsuki, even if his pack had seen honor as something slightly different.

Still, he stepped out of the way and let Shota pass by, his pack trailing behind him. Several kept staring as they passed and he stared back, determined until they let their gazes drop. They each filed into the dining hall without incident.

Once they were gone, Katsuki waited a beat to follow, catching sight of a guard at the door. It was that old alpha, the one who had watched him during the first few days of his stay at the pack. Kenji, Katsuki thought his name was.

The old alpha warrior met his eyes and nodded, silently approving. Katsuki felt the heat in his stomach shift to a slight glow and he held himself a little taller as he made his way inside.

It was much more crowded than usual, though that wasn’t a surprise. Izuku sat with his family at the head table, Shota and Hitoshi just making themselves comfortable and Soren leaning over to serve them both tea. Shota’s pack had mostly clumped together, but a few were scattered amongst Toshinori’s pack. Despite how little space there remained, when Katsuki spotted Eijiro’s obnoxious hair through the crowd, he saw a spot still left for him at his side. When he dropped into it, the beta turned to grin at him and invited him to join the conversation.

It felt like a normal day. Katsuki had to lean in a little more to hear what the others were saying, the press of bodies was making the hall a bit warmer than usual, but there were still jokes made and good food shared and Eijiro still ate the fish eyes first, as he had since Katsuki had told him about them during their first meal. He scooped one out and handed it over to Katsuki mid-conversation, and something about the sharing of food with the beta felt wonderfully cozy. He slurped it down appreciatively, wondering when the last time a beta had offered him food like that.

It came to him like a thunderclap. Jest. Jest had been the last beta to offer him food.

Growling absently, he shoveled food into his mouth to stop the others from asking why he was suddenly upset.

Even after he had swallowed and Eijiro opened his mouth to ask, a terrible cry went up outside.

Deathly silence rolled over the dining hall, so sudden and so still it was as if they had all be struck dead by the sound alone. Just beyond the walls, Katsuki heard the distinct sounds of a scuffle, of bodies and weapons clashing together, of someone howling in pain.

Toshinori and Shota had leaped to their feet and several other warriors were barreling toward the door when everything went deathly quiet again, and the weighted flap over the entrance shifted aside.

Cold, sharp terror struck Katsuki through the chest. He felt Eijiro react to him, felt the beta instinctively grab his arm and pull him back, but Katsuki would not be moved, not by anyone. He stood perfectly still, wanting to jump up and fight and yet knowing he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. His body held him still, hoping to remain unseen, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed, that the danger would pass him by.

Then the person in the doorway stood, a towering figure to rival Toshinori’s, and dark eyes fell immediately to him. He felt himself shuddering and he dipped his head, even as Eijiro snarled and leaped up, covering Katsuki partly with his body.

Stop it, he wanted to scream, get up! But his body refused.

Because Alpha had just stepped into the room.

Chapter Text

It was Alpha. Izuku knew it had to be him.

He was a rounded man with thick muscles ringing his arms, a man who could probably tear a tree from its roots with only his bare hands. A wild mane of brown hair hung down his shoulders, his face rolled and wrinkled as if the weight of his mane alone had disfigured his brow and jowls. His skin was pale and slightly green, as if ill. The dark under his eyes was too pronounced to be typical. And when Izuku watched closely, he noticed that Alpha walked with a subtle limp in his left leg. Clearly, he was a warrior who had seen many fights and bore scars as trophies. But nearly every inch of his skin was covered by fur-lined cloth and leather adornments, pieces of armor stitched tight to his clothing as if into his very skin. He had a plain, rugged look about him, and nothing about his appearance betrayed his place as a pack alpha. But Izuku could feel it. The way he carried himself, tall despite his limp, unconcerned despite two packs circling around him, almost bored despite the fact that he was the one who had intruded on their supper.

One look, and Izuku knew. A second, toward where Katsuki sat, and the terror on his face confirmed it.

Seeing Katsuki cowering, seeing his expression painfully blank, his body hunched to be as small as he could be, shaking like a pup, with Eijiro pressed over him to keep him safe. Izuku felt a familiar rush of fury and pain, the same as when he’d seen Shoto injured by Jest. And when he looked, he saw that familiar terror in Katsuki’s eyes, the same frozen expression that he’d had when facing Jest.

He remembered Jest in his dwelling, telling him to give Katsuki up. He remembered the way Katsuki spoke of his time with Jest and Alpha, and the quiet fear that still ran through his words. He remembered Shoto laying on the floor, just clinging to life, after Jest’s attack. He remembered Miyu and the other omegas in the glade, remembered how his own throat still stung with healing wounds, remembered how the rogues’ blood was smeared over his own hands.

Go, he thought, and his body lunged. Fight.

Someone grabbed him around the waist and yanked him back, a quiet hiss in his ear reprimanding him. His own mother, clinging desperately to him, keeping him from throwing himself at Alpha. He wondered why no one else went to attack, why everyone was just standing there, watching as Alpha slowly stepped into the hall.

Then he noticed the body dragged at his side.

Something terrible caught in Izuku’s throat and he collapsed backward, all his furious strength vanished in an instant.

Kenji hung loose and limp in Alpha’s grasp, a hand tight around his throat, his tongue half lolled from his mouth. If he was alive, he was only just.

Another figure slipped in behind Alpha, Jest strolling along as if nothing were out of place. At the sight of him, Katsuki made a move as if he were about to leap forward or run away, and it was honestly hard to tell. His eyes were blown wide, even though he couldn’t seem to look at anything straight on. Eijiro crouched lower around Katsuki and his friends leaned in until Izuku could hardly see Katsuki at all.

Alpha had noticed Katsuki when first entering the room, but now his gaze was just on Toshinori and Shota. The two pack alphas had stepped forward, the packs scattering to leave them a wide berth, warriors gathering at the perimeter to keep the others safe. Soon, a loose ring formed around the pack alphas and Jest, though no one dared get too close while Alpha still held Kenji.

As the pack alphas drew near, Kenji flinched suddenly and with a vicious twist, grasped Alpha’s arm, latched his teeth into his hand. Alpha grunted, looking at Kenji as if surprised to see him at all, then lifted him up and tossed him aside. He went careening through the nearest line of warriors, causing a howl of fury and fear and the crowd around the circle rippled, drawing Kenji into their ranks while closing up around the pack alphas once more. Still, no one dared step any closer to Alpha or Jest.

With Kenji out of way, Izuku again tried to stand, even as his mother kept her grip around his waist. Suddenly, Hitoshi thrust an arm in front of him, standing in his way. He also faced in toward the circle, his other hand on the hilt of his knife, pulled an inch free and ready to use. Shoto appeared as well, suddenly and without a sound, standing in front of Izuku, his mother, and Hitoshi. Other of the stronger warriors gathered loosely between them, but Hitoshi and Shoto seemed resolute in holding the line, both between Alpha and Izuku, and Izuku and the pack alphas.

Izuku wanted to scream, wanted to throw everyone aside and say, “Don’t try to protect me! It’s my job to protect you!” He knew that wasn’t true, not really, but he couldn’t bear to think of anyone getting hurt trying to keep him safe. And besides. He desperately wanted a chance to tear Alpha apart. For all he had done, all the pain he had caused. Izuku wanted his piece of him.

“You are not welcome here,” it was Toshinori who spoke first, his voice steady but loud.

“So I’ve gathered.” Alpha’s voice wasn’t quite what Izuku expected. He’d thought it would be a low rumble, thunder in the distance. Instead, it was lighter, a pleasant song voice. It resonated through the crowd without effort, and everyone stilled to listen. “Regardless, I’ve come here on business. It’s my understanding that you have something of mine, and I’d like him back. Also, I thought it might be wise to discuss my proposal in person. I’ve heard it’s caused a bit of a stir in misunderstanding lately.”

Inko gasped suddenly and clutched Izuku a little tighter, though he didn’t know why. He put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to calm her, but she just buried her face in his coat.

“I have nothing of yours,” Toshinori said simply.

“No? But I just saw him.” Izuku went cold as Alpha searched the crowd, then gestured. “There. You have one of my warriors. I’d like him back.”

“Katsuki?” Toshinori sounded both appalled and infuriated. When Alpha nodded, Toshinori growled, “Katsuki was a rogue you cast out on a wild mission to steal from my pack. He chose to reform and stay with us. He is not one of yours. He is mine.” There was a possessive edge to Toshinori’s voice, more so than Izuku would have thought. This was a pack alpha standing up for his own.

Alpha rolled his head languidly to stare toward Katsuki sideways. “He’s willful, but rest assuredly, is not a rogue. Never has been. He’s been with me and mine since we fished him from a ditch about a year ago.” He turned that languid look to Toshinori. “Did you really think he survived the wounds that gave him those scars all by himself?”

For a moment, Toshinori had nothing to say. Even Shota was looking at him, searching him for direction. Then, “Katsuki has chosen to stay with us. We would let him leave at any point, if he wished. But he chose us. You, as alpha, should be willing to let him make that choice.”

Alpha’s lips peeled back, his teeth cracking open in a quiet laugh. “Don’t be absurd. He’s a child who can’t even be trusted to follow simple instruction. As alpha, it’s my duty to keep him in line. Correct him. And, when he strays, to bring him home. Surely you would do the same?”

“Not as you suggest.”

Alpha rolled his shoulders in what might have been a shrug but was also suggestively threatening. “To each their own. Now. Are you telling me you refuse to give what is mine back?”

“If he wishes to go with you, I won’t stop him. But if he wishes to stay, then I will fight for him.”

The packs went still and quiet. Somewhere in the crowd, there was a low growl, but Izuku couldn’t see from who.

Alpha tilted his gaze toward Katsuki again. “Boy. Here.” There was a sharp command to his voice, the yank of a leash.

Within the crowd, there was a sharp hiss that deepened into a snarl, a manic edge to the voice, and with it rose that growling. Izuku didn’t need to see to know it was Katsuki and Eijiro.

“Boy,” now there was danger in Alpha’s voice, “here.”

There was sudden commotion and Eijiro yelped, but suddenly Katsuki had torn through the circle and was leaping toward Alpha, mouth open to show all his teeth, his expression torn open, his terror raw and exposed. Alpha raised an arm and Katsuki latched onto the hard leather bracer across his forearm. An explosion rent the air and several pack members shrieked and screamed and there was a scuffle, somewhere, and Izuku heard Toshinori calling Katsuki’s name, followed by a yelp of pain.

Izuku’s breath caught. He knew that voice.

This time, when he surged forward, his mother couldn’t keep a grip on him. Not again, he thought as he jammed past Hitoshi and Shoto, as he leaped into the smoke-filled fray.

A figure cut across him, too small to be Alpha. Izuku drew his sword, seeing the flash of a delighted grin just as Jest reached for him.

Another arm hooked around his waist and yanked him back, only for a knife Izuku hadn’t seen to catch on his rescuer’s blade. It had come in low, aiming for his stomach. His heart leaped, thinking Jest had just tried to kill him, when he noticed the beta was holding the blade backward. It wouldn’t have cut him. But it would have dazed him.

“Back off.” Izuku blinked up at his rescuer’s command. Shota stood steady, holding Jest back with one hand and Izuku back with his other. Izuku honestly couldn’t tell who Shota had been speaking to.

Jest laughed, easing tension on Shota’s knife until he could step away. “I meant him no harm. But this is business between alphas. Don’t you teach your omegas to stay out of things they aren’t involved with?”

Izuku snarled, indignant, the same time Shota tightened his grip. “Don’t. He’s antagonizing you on purpose.”

Even if he was, Izuku kept his teeth bared, Jest standing patiently between them and the alphas. The smoke was starting to clear, and it was becoming apparent Toshinori had risen to challenge Alpha at his full strength. Izuku couldn’t see where Katsuki had gone, until he noticed a bit of movement at their feet.

Alpha pressed his boot hard between Katsuki’s shoulders, keeping him crushed against the ground. There was a dazed, wounded look in him, and when Katsuki opened his eyes to look around, clearly confused as to where he was and what had happened, the air squeezed from Izuku’s lungs in sympathy.

In his larger form, Toshinori towered over Alpha, was clearly stronger than Alpha. If not for Katsuki being crushed under Alpha’s boot, Toshinori would have ended the fight quickly. Instead, the alphas were locked in a stalemate, Toshinori’s fists caught in Alpha’s palms, both struggling to overcome the other.

“You dare,” Toshinori’s voice rang out over the packs, stirring his own to hiss and snarl at his fury, “come into my territory and do harm to my pack?”

Alpha’s gaze narrowed. “You’re right,” he said, and suddenly stepped back.

Katsuki let out a wheeze as Alpha stepped off him, Toshinori quickly taking up the space between him and Alpha, leaving Katsuki to painfully roll onto his back. A figure broke quickly away from the circle around the pack alphas to crouch over Katsuki, placing a hand on his chest to keep him pressed down. It was Touya, and for once, he wasn’t smiling.

Responding to his alpha’s retreat, Jest slipped back as well, Izuku struggling to follow only for Shota to shove him back.

“Stop,” he kept his voice low but authoritative, “your father can handle this.”

Izuku wanted to scream. He knew his father could handle it. But Katsuki was hurt, he was right there and he was hurt. Katsuki was shaking terribly, his breathing was hitched and shallow and his teeth were clenched painfully. Izuku felt his own breathing catch watching him.

Alpha was speaking, and Izuku forced himself to listen to what he had to say, “I didn’t come here to fight. I knew there would be some resistance, but I did try to minimize damage. You’ll find I’ve killed no one from your pack.”

“You have done enough harm.” Toshinori cut his arm across his chest, a clear sign of dismissal. “Leave. You are not welcome here.”

“As alpha, you owe me to speak as such. And I would speak with you. We have much to discuss.” Again, his gaze roamed toward Katsuki, and then lifted to Izuku.

Shota tensed at the attention, but Izuku knew he wasn’t looking at Shota. Alpha was looking straight at him.

Izuku bared his teeth and nearly balked when Alpha dipped his head in response, a clear sign of deferring to him. Just what was going on here?

To Toshinori, he said, “I’ll harm no one else, unless harm is done to myself or Jest. But I ask we speak. As leaders, as alphas. Surely you want to hear what I have to say?”

Toshinori paused. It was the same thing Jest had said, but this time it was coming straight from Alpha himself.

The pause lengthened, deepened, until both packs were practically shivering with anticipation.

Then, another figure pulled away from the circle. Izuku hadn’t even noticed he was there, just at the edge of everything, until he stood before the alphas, surveying the scene. Mirai.

The head beta locked eyes with Jest and something passed between them. Not quite an understanding, but something. An arrangement, perhaps.

He faced the alphas. “Our tradition is to extend an invitation to tea to new guests. During such a time, there will be peace between all parties. And, if that peace should be broken, then a price will be enforced,” he said this part to Alpha and Jest, then to Toshinori he added, “and once tea is done, we have no obligation to continue any peaceful interactions. So. Tea, then?”

Toshinori clenched his fists but said nothing. Alpha glanced over Mirai, seemingly impressed by his nerve, and nodded. “Tea, then. We shall speak quickly, before it cools.”

- - -

The pack was still and quiet in a way Katsuki only knew from hunting parties out on the plains. How he’d pressed himself to the ground, still and breathless, eyes wide and waiting either for prey to come close or predator to walk away.

He had gone still and breathless in the presence of a predator. But the pack was poised to leap, to kill. They were hunting for prey, and Alpha was in their sights.

Shameful. Katsuki ground his teeth together. You’re supposed to be a warrior. And yet, he’d frozen again.

Eijiro leaned in toward him. “You okay?” He asked again.

Katsuki snarled back, not wanting him so close, wanting to find his legs and stand up with the other warriors. Instead, he was huddled with the rest of the pack in the center of the dining hall, around the firepit blazing high. Warriors ringed the pack, stalked back and forth. That other pack alpha, Shota, stood near the entrance, his posture relaxed despite the knife he held in his hand. Shoto and his brother stood near the entrance as well, both much more defensive than the pack alpha. If anyone came through that entryway they didn’t like, the brothers were liable to destroy them.

Katsuki should be next to them. Should be protecting the pack from the people he had brought to their door. He moved to push himself up, but his joints locked and his muscles froze, remembering Alpha’s eyes on him, the command in his voice when he’d said “Here.”

Someone else brushed by. Katsuki didn’t need to look up to know it was Izuku. He’d been going around the pack, comforting people, checking on everyone. But after initially running to Katsuki after Alpha had left, he’d purposefully stayed away, focusing on everyone else. Katsuki tried not to think about why the omega was seemingly avoiding him. He didn’t want to think much about what was happening at all, if he was being honest.

“It’s okay,” Eijiro said it like he really believed it.

Katsuki didn’t react, not even when Izuku crouched down next to him. “Katsuki. Are you feeling okay?” Even though he spoke warmly, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the heat of the sun in his voice, just a reflection off the river. Tempered, controlled. When Katsuki glanced up, he saw Izuku wasn’t even smiling.

That flower was still in his hair, tilting slightly. Katsuki wanted to reach out, right it. But his body refused him even that.

He looked away, ashamed. Eijiro crowded in a little closer and Izuku touched his knee. He couldn’t even bring himself to lean into or away from the touch.

“It’s okay. We won’t let them hurt you.”

Katsuki growled again. “He keeps doing that,” Eijiro said.

“Has he said anything?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki snapped his teeth together. I’m right here! He wanted to say. All he could manage was another snarl. Izuku squeezed his knee reassuringly.

“Just needs some time. We’ll keep an eye out for him. Right, guys?” Eijiro turned to his friends, who were all huddled nearby. They had only just left enough space for Izuku to crouch in front of Katsuki, but otherwise they were keeping the others away. Denki had gotten up at some point and was talking to Hitoshi, but Katsuki was aware of him orbiting close by.

“Thank you,” Izuku said. He lingered a moment longer, keeping a tight grip on Katsuki’s knee. Katsuki could sense the omega wanted to say something more and he glanced up, searching Izuku’s face for it.

After a moment, Izuku reached up and plucked the flower from his hair. Katsuki’s heart sank as Izuku tucked it into his hair, until Izuku smiled.

“Here. Hold onto this for me, okay? I’ll come get it in a little while.”

With that, he stood and resumed his slow pace around the pack, leaning over to speak with anyone who called his name, anyone who looked distressed. Katsuki felt the weight of the flower in his hair, the thin petals shifting in the wind. A promise, a reminder. He ran his fingers over the petals, and let out a shuddering breath.

“How long?” He asked.

Eijiro blinked, clearly surprised. “What?”

“How long has it been? Since they left.”

“Oh. Not long.” Eijiro tried to catch his eyes but Katsuki deliberately stared at the ground. “It’ll be a little while longer before we hear anything, I think. Unless it goes badly. Then we might hear something very soon.”

“Right.” Katsuki watched the entryway, how Shota shifted his weight to find a comfortable position. Shoto and Touya tensed at his movement, but when Shota remained generally unperturbed, they eased back into their defensive postures.

“How are you doing?” Eijiro was asking him.

Katsuki rolled his shoulders, his neck. He felt looser than before, but his body felt equally heavier. The stress of sitting perfectly still had worn at his muscles and joints. His knees in particular ached and he didn’t trust himself to stand. “I’m fine.”

Eijiro sat there quiet, waiting for him to say more. Over his shoulder, Mina and Momo shared a look. Katsuki hadn’t ever seen them so concerned. Him being the center of their worry needled him, but he wasn’t even sure why.

He looked away. “I don’t know what happened. But I’m fine.”

“You were scared,” Eijiro said, and Katsuki snarled back at him, “and it’s okay to be scared. That guy is scary as hell. Did you see how he held off Alpha Toshinori?” This question he directed to Denki, who wasn’t paying much attention to their group.

Still, when he realized what had been asked, he shivered. “I thought he was going to kill Kenji for a moment there.”

The group fell silent, half of them purposefully keeping their gaze on the ground and the other half looking over. Katsuki followed their gaze and saw the small circle gathered near the center of the room. Kenji lay at its center, a younger alpha at his head, whispering to him. The old alpha was clearly injured, healers swarmed around him so Katsuki couldn’t quite see the extent of his injuries. Still, he was well aware just what Alpha was capable of, and they were lucky Kenji was still alive at all.

“I thought he was going to kill you, too,” Denki added after a moment. He reached out, hesitated, then laid a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re with us. Still, I mean. I’m glad you… well, yeah. Anyway.” His touch slid away but Katsuki remained quiet, unsure how to react.

He, too, was glad that he was still there. He was glad that Alpha hadn’t hurt anyone else.

Healers had come and seen to him, even as he’d growled at them, but his injuries proved minor in comparison to Kenji, so their attention had drifted away. One healer in particular, a petite omega woman called Koinya kept coming over to check on him, perhaps waiting for him to calm down. He expected that since he was talking now, she might come over to ask him about how he felt. He dreaded that conversation.

A burst of sobs across the hall drew everyone’s attention, though it was hard to see what was happening through the crowds. All Katsuki really saw was a hunched figure and Izuku crouched next to them, his feathered coat standing out amongst the din of colors in the crowd.

It was very quiet afterward, everyone listening to the sobs.

Everything changed when Shota suddenly stiffened.

Shota’s warriors reacted immediately to their alpha’s sudden tension and it rippled through the pack, all eyes turned toward the entrance. Several alphas and betas, and even a few omegas, hunched forward as they watched the entrance, clearly ready to attack. Eijiro balanced on his heels, his teeth bared in a warning display. Katsuki didn’t miss that the beta had purposefully put himself between Katsuki and the entrance. It also didn’t surprise him when Izuku suddenly appeared at his side, the omega’s outward appearance calm. When he looked closer, Katsuki saw Izuku’s hands shaking.

Katsuki tried to conjure up the rage and ferocity he had always felt when defending his home, but all he felt was a hollow sense of dread. Where everyone else rose up to face the enemy, Katsuki felt himself shrinking back.

Pathetic, he told himself, his teeth grinding in frustration at his own cowardice.

Then, just when the tension reached its height, Shota stepped aside and Toshinori swept into the room. A chorus of relieved noises sounded at the alpha’s appearance, from startled yips to warm purrs. Katsuki could barely look at the other alpha. Where everyone else’s tension eased, he felt his own mounting.

What had happened with Alpha? Where was Alpha? What had Toshinori agreed to let Alpha take?

Toshinori swept into the hall and raised his hand for silence. He wasn’t in his powerful form anymore, yet just that simple gesture still commanded attention, and the hall quieted.

“Alpha and Jest have gone,” he announced, and another wave of relief echoed in the hall. “We shall sleep communally tonight. You may remain here, if you wish, or you may join each other in the pack nest. Warriors will be stationed around the village and around the hall and nest. You will be safe there. Please gather whatever you need for the night and go to your chosen nesting ground.” Then his gaze fell to Katsuki.

Katsuki shrunk back, fighting the urge to scramble away. He’s going to send me away. The thought pounded in his skull. He might have run if Izuku hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder, a grounding force instantly bolting him to the spot. He’s going to send me with Alpha and Jest.

“Katsuki.” Suddenly the pack alpha was crouched in front of him. Katsuki felt his lips flinch, wanting to bare his teeth in warning. But if Toshinori sent him away, there was nothing he would be able to do. He would simply have to go. “You didn’t remember, right?”

Katsuki blinked. He had a hard time focusing on Toshinori. “What?”

Toshinori studied him, then said, “Alpha said he found you still wounded in a ditch. That you’ve been with him for a long while. Did you remember that? Did you lie to us?”

Katsuki closed his mouth. What did he remember of his past? Bits and pieces, painful as pulling thorns from an open wound. He searched for Alpha’s face amongst the injuries, or Jest’s, or anyone else’s. But all he remembered was the pain and wandering, going from one place to another. Had he really been ferried along with a pack? Or had Alpha been lying?

He shook his head. “I don’t… I only remember being alone.”

Again, Toshinori studied him. Katsuki thought he might be looking for something, but Katsuki didn’t know how to give him what he wanted. So he sat there, still certain he was about to be sent away.

Then, Toshinori shut his eyes. “You must be careful. Alpha is convinced you belong to him. But if you want to stay, then I will fight for you as one of my own. But I am worried what he might try next to get to you, what harm he might inflict.”

Katsuki held his breath, waiting. Waiting for Toshinori to say that he wasn’t worth whatever potential harm might come next. The pack alpha reached forward, and Katsuki stiffened, waiting for the blow to land. Gentle fingers curled against his head, Toshinori’s palm pressed at his crown.

“You will be all right,” the pack alpha proclaimed. He lingered a moment longer, then rose. “Gather yourself and nest with the pack tonight. Wherever you would feel more comfortable.” Then he left.

Katsuki held his breath, waiting to see if Toshinori would change his mind. But he was focused elsewhere now, stepping into the circle around Kenji and crouching at the wounded alpha’s side.

He let go of that breath, his body deflating. The hand on his shoulder held him upright, even as his head swam.

“C’mon,” Izuku was leaned close to his ear, and Katsuki closed his eyes to better listen to the warm tones in his words, “you need to get some sleep. Where would you like to go?”

“Wherever you want to go.” He realized it was probably improper to say such things, especially with so many people watching. But he didn’t care. He’d come this close to losing what little bit of space he’d found for himself with this pack. For now, he just wanted to say what was really on his mind, in case his time was coming to a swift end.

Izuku bit his lip, worried. “I need to be with the pack in the nest. They’ll be expecting me there as aeon. Are you sure… you’d be comfortable in a place like that?”

Katsuki tilted his head. “Would the pack be okay with me there?”

“I don’t see why not,” Izuku shrugged.

“Then I’ll go.” It was that simple. He didn’t really care very much anymore whether he would be comfortable. All he wanted was to be at Izuku’s side for as long as he could.

“We’ll come with you,” Eijiro said, his friends echoing the sentiment. Denki hesitated, glancing toward Hitoshi. No doubt Shota and his pack wouldn’t be allowed in such an intimate setting as Toshinori’s pack nest.

Izuku noticed Denki’s gaze. “There will be limited space. I suspect a lot of people will want to try to nest there. So it might be better if you stay here and keep watch of things,” he told the beta.

Denki smiled, relieved by the order, and bowed his head, “You got it, shula.”

Katsuki watched, amazed that even now, Izuku could so easily mend rifts within the pack, settle people’s nerves, ease everyone with words alone. He was truly a wonder, and Katsuki didn’t want to think about what might happen if he had to leave. In a way, Izuku was like the sun, and Katsuki already knew what going without sun for so long felt like.

Cold and dark and empty.

Izuku turned a smile toward him. “C’mon. Let’s get you settled in so you can rest.”

“Of course,” Katsuki said. He would have followed the omega anywhere, a flower following the rays of sun across the sky. He didn’t want to think about the night that always followed the day.

Chapter Text

Stepping outside of the dining hall proved more difficult than Izuku ever thought it would be. In fact, he hadn’t given much thought to stepping outside at all. It wasn’t until he realized Katsuki wasn’t at his side anymore that he stopped and turned, spying him lingering just inside with Eijiro. The beta was standing slightly behind him, waiting for him to walk through, but Katsuki hadn’t noticed.

The sparse color in his face had drained away and his pupils had blown wide again. Although he was clearly struggling to regain his composure, he looked outside as if the second he crossed the threshold he could drop dead.

Outside, scattered members of the pack were hurrying toward their dwellings, collecting up blankets or pillows to take to the nest or back to the dining hall with them. Warriors were stationed around the village, prowling after the few pack members who dipped into their dwelling before returning to the more populated paths. There wasn’t a place outside that felt dark or unwatched. Yet Izuku could tell Katsuki felt unsafe just looking outside.

Jest had appeared and disappeared out of nowhere before, and this time he had brought Alpha with him. It was possible that nowhere was safe within the village, not even the dining hall. But if Katsuki found solace in those four walls, then Izuku couldn’t blame him.

He crossed back to Katsuki, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You can stay here,” he said quietly. The alpha’s eyes followed him, wide black circles ringed red and gray. “If you’d feel better here, then stay here. It’s okay.”

“No.” Katsuki shook his head, as if trying to dislodge something. When he opened his eyes again, his pupils had shrunk back to a normal size. “It’s fine. I’m being ridiculous.” He added in an undertone, glancing away.

“You’re not. It’s okay to be scared.” Izuku glanced away as well, to make sure no one was nearby. In his own undertone, he added, “I’m scared too, okay?”

Katsuki reached up and plucked the flower from his hair. He wove it back into Izuku’s, right where he’d placed it the first time. Izuku didn’t feel the zing of warmth at the alpha’s touch as he had the first time. Instead, he felt the flower’s stem weave through his hair like roots, holding him steady.

“Looks better on you,” the alpha said.

Izuku shook his head. “It matches your eye color. Looked good on you too.”

Something like a smirk shadowed Katsuki’s face. He nodded outside. “Lead the way.”

This time, when Izuku stepped forward, Katsuki stepped with him, Eijiro trailing behind.

“Did your pack have a communal nest?” Eijiro was asking.

“Not like yours. All our dwellings were like communal nests,” Katsuki said.

Eijiro made a delighted noise and followed up with a few other questions, Katsuki’s low voice rumbling in reply. Izuku only half listened. Otherwise, he kept watch, just as the warriors did.

It wasn’t much longer before someone else fell in line next to him.

“Shoto,” Izuku leaned toward the alpha, and Shoto met him halfway. “Have you heard what happened with Alpha?”

“My father won’t say. But from what I’ve gathered, he agreed to leave peacefully.” Shoto was keeping watch as well.

It reminded Izuku of that night he’d sat on the porch of the nest, looking out into the rain with Shoto. That night felt so long ago, but it had only been a few weeks. So much had changed in only a few blinks of an eye. And yet, that uneasy feeling remained.

At least that night, it wasn’t raining. Izuku knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep though. He knew he’d end up on that porch again, looking out for danger with everyone else, Shoto at his side. He could only hope that somewhere in the mix, Katsuki got some rest.

“You’ll stay with me?” Izuku asked.

Shoto nodded. It didn’t need to be asked or answered. They both already knew.

- - -

The nest wasn’t anything like Katsuki was expecting. He hadn’t realized he had been picturing his old home with his parents and the others, the communal resting area and the separate bedding areas, a clear divide where a family could stay together without interference of the other families. He remembered being younger, curling up and feeling his mother’s arm wrapped around him, how she had been the anchor point to their family. He remembered his father as well, a presence that backdropped everything he and his mother did. A constant, if quiet, figure almost always within reach. His mother had dominated. He had fought for dominance with her more times than he could remember. But at night, they had curled up together, the three of them alone.

This felt more like the communal resting area than the separate beds. It was an empty room at first, but as more people filed in, they brought with them blankets and pillows or pulled them from cubbies in the far wall. At first, people gathered in familial and friend groups, but soon the lines between each group blurred, until they were all a tangled mess of limbs. Even looking at it made Katsuki’s skin prickle.

Izuku had gone immediately to the middle of the room. Katsuki hadn’t known why he would do such a thing, until he realized the pack moved with him, drawn as always to him. If he’d chosen a corner to rest in, they would have all piled up around him anyway. He chose to be the middle of everything because he didn’t really have another choice.

As much as he wanted to go to Izuku, Katsuki didn’t want to be in the middle of everything. He hadn’t piled with anyone but his parents in so long, and it had been so long since he’d piled with them. Since before they were murdered.

A tug at his arm pulled him back from his thoughts. Eijiro smiled and nodded toward the corner directly across from the entrance. A warrior was posted at that entrance. Tenya, Katsuki thought, though he hadn’t had much interaction with him. He appeared often during councils, next to his mother Tenna, and that was about all he’d seen of the alpha. But he appeared again by the entrance, and no one seemed surprised to see him there when they stepped into the room. This was his usual post, his place in the pack. When Shoto appeared next to him, leaning in to whisper something to him, no one paid him any mind either.

Katsuki wished he had a place like that. A spot to sit and watch over the pack where no one would give him a second glance, but would know he was there if they needed him.

Instead, he was pulled to the corner of the room where the betas were busy setting up a bedding area.

“Do you want any pillows or anything? I know alphas don’t use a lot of bedding usually,” Eijiro said brightly.

Katsuki glanced sideways at him. “I’ll take anything extra.”

“Anything extra” amounted to a single blanket and two pillows. Katsuki stared at the meager offerings and went immediately to the cubby wall. He yanked two large blankets and another pillow out and returned to the corner with his friends. They watched him, a little mystified, as he proceeded to show them how to make a proper bedding area, lining everything with one of the larger blankets and setting up small areas for each of them to rest. For his own spot, he piled up more blankets and pillows than any of the betas had brought and they again stared at him.

“What?” He snapped. “I like being comfortable.”

“Yeah, man! Of course!” Eijiro smiled but he still seemed a little confused.

They laid down soon after, the betas piling comfortably together. Katsuki could tell they were used to such sleeping arrangements, though there was a notably empty spot where Denki would normally be. He thought about slipping into that open spot, but decided to take a spot at the edge of the pile, nearest to Eijiro.

Before laying down, he glanced over to the middle of the room. Izuku was nearly indistinct amongst the bodies, save for the bright white feathers of his coat. Katsuki couldn’t imagine he would be sleeping soundly that night, but he knew the omega would stay with the pack to ensure they slept well.

He didn’t acknowledge that he’d looked over half hoping there was a little bit of room left for him, didn’t acknowledge the ache of disappointment when he saw there wasn’t.

When he laid down, Eijiro immediately pressed in closer to him. Katsuki stiffened at first, but forced himself to relax as the beta hummed happily. He closed his eyes, not knowing if he’d find sleep.

In time, he became aware of the quiet pulse of the others in the room. Their deepening breathing, evening out until everyone was breathing as one. Every now and then, a whimper, a growl, a nightmare manifested in shifting bodies. He realized he’d missed these noises. The feeling of other sleeping next to him and near to him. Someone had half joined their pile at some point, though he hadn’t noticed when. The press of their body near his friends didn’t bother Katsuki. If anything, it centered him more.

The pack slept comfortably together, and he felt himself drifting on their quiet snores.

It was just as he was slipping asleep that he noticed someone lift up from the center of the pile and peel themselves away from the pack. They stepped carefully to the edge of the room, then ducked outside, the room growing just a little colder in their absence.

- - -

Izuku sat hunched on the nest’s porch, flanked by Shoto and Touya. Well, Shoto flanked him, mirroring his posture just at his side. Touya, at his other side, was seated against the nearest support beam, arms up and behind the back of his reclined head. His eyes weren’t completely closed, but he did look out across the village through half-lidded lashes. Something about how relaxed he was set Izuku on edge.

When he grew too frustrated with nothing to do, he snapped, “At least sit up. Alpha could be out there.”

“Doubt it.” Touya scoffed.

Izuku knew he was being baited, but couldn’t help his knee-jerk reaction, “What makes you so confident?”

“Alpha said he’d leave. Good ol’ Shota didn’t seem concerned, just our big softie. And Toshinori would worry if so much as a leaf fell on one of our pathways.” Touya smirked when Izuku glowered at him. “We’re on alert, and Alpha knows it. He isn’t going to try anything after so blatantly strolling straight through our village. Would be stupid.”

“He’s already proven he can get in,” Shoto pointed out. Infuriatingly, he seemed just as calm as his brother, even hunched defensively same as Izuku.

“Uh huh. Which means he doesn’t need to prove anything else to us. If he wants in, he’ll get in. None of this snarling and growling is going to stop it.” Touya gestured to the patrols slinking nearby, keeping an eye on the shadows of the forest.

Izuku felt a prickle of unease at his words, knowing he was right. Alpha could appear anywhere, whenever he wanted. Nothing they did could stop him. “So. You’re just giving up?” He said to Touya.

Touya tilted his head. “Nah. But I’m not going to waste energy when I know things are going to be fine for now. Wait for the real fight. I’ll be there, tearing them apart.”

And yet, he was still up with them, at Izuku’s side, half watching the village. Izuku decided not to point this out. “We don’t know how big Alpha’s pack really is. Katsuki told us what he could, but that doesn’t mean Alpha wasn’t hiding stuff from him. Any number of warriors could just appear in our village at any moment. What are we supposed to do?”

Touya laughed, the sound so sudden and loud that the nearest patrol flinched toward him, then growled in warning. “Easy! How do you deal with any rogue pack? Take out the leader. Once they’re gone, a pack like that will break apart. If you’re a pack of rogues, you’ve just got a nest of snakes waiting for the chance to break free and slither away. Only one thing’s keeping them together. Get rid of that, and the rest will scatter.”

Izuku grimaced. “So. Just need to kill Alpha is what you’re saying.” It was much easier said than done. Alpha had clearly been through several fights before and even if he had scars, he’d clearly survived each of those encounters. He was seasoned, if nothing else, and would know many different tactics to use against them.

Touya sighed, tilting his head back. He turned that half-lidded look to the omega, slow and contemplative. It was odd enough to see Touya like this that Izuku glanced to Shoto, who watched his older brother raptly. He was expecting something from Touya, and it made Izuku uncomfortable all over again.

After letting the moment fester, Touya eventually let his arms drop, hooking one around his knee and leaning back on the other. The shift in position was subtle, but nearly threatening. If needed, Touya could leap up much easier from that position. He was preparing for battle, in a slow and subtle way. Even if he seemed relaxed, he was preparing still for what was to come.

“I don’t think,” he spoke each word with that same slow contemplation, “that Alpha is the one we need to get rid of.”

Izuku blinked and again glanced to Shoto, but the alpha seemed just as confused as he was. “You don’t think Alpha is the alpha of his pack?” It seemed ridiculous to even say it.

“Oh, he definitely is the head alpha. But I don’t think he’s the leader.”

What did that even mean?

Izuku waited for Touya to clarify, but he remained stubbornly quiet and fixed, watching the shadows a little closer. Izuku noticed how where most everyone else was focused on the forest, Touya kept his gaze inward, toward the village and the shadows that dripped along the ground between their dwellings.

He remembered how Jest had appeared and vanished through the shadows themselves. What was the point of walking straight up to the gates when he could appear wherever?

Like, for example, in someone’s dwelling? Or in a nest?

Izuku rose. The brothers turned toward him, perhaps expecting him to say something, perhaps expecting him to bolt off into the forest, to find who had hurt his pack. But all Izuku thought of was the nest of people behind him, and the only alpha that their enemy seemed to have any interest in.

“I need to stay with the others for the night,” he said hurriedly, “to keep them calm. Will you stay out here and keep watch?”

“All night long,” Touya said, then immediately leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“We’ll be here,” Shoto said, which was quite a bit more reassuring.

Without thinking much about it, Izuku leaned forward and rested his head against Shoto’s shoulder. Close enough to almost be intimate, when really Izuku just needed to hear his heart beating before he left him. Shoto stilled, didn’t pull away, and finally relaxed while Izuku rested.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be okay,” he said. Izuku wanted to believe him, but he couldn’t even decide if Shoto himself believed what he was saying.

When he was satisfied, Izuku rose and slipped back into the nest. Tenya was still at the entrance, as he always was, his eyes shining as they found Izuku in the dark. A few stirred nearby as Izuku stepped inside, but no one got up or even glanced toward him. The soft sounds of sleep filled the room in a heavy warmth, a coat draped over his shoulders. Izuku reached up and tugged his hood over his head. He felt better with the feathers tickling his ears.

It took him a bit of maneuvering to get to the corner where Katsuki and his friends were laying. When he found them, he thought at first Katsuki wasn’t with them anymore; he could pick out everyone except for the alpha. Then he noticed the figured buried under a particularly thick blanket.

It was a bit odd, when Izuku thought about it. Katsuki had something of a nesting habit, which Izuku had only ever seen in omegas. Pregnant betas, sometimes, but mostly omegas. He wondered where the alpha had picked that up.

Clearly though, he felt safer curled up under multiple layers, so Izuku did his best not to disturb that as he slipped amongst the bodies. Eijiro shot awake when jostled, alert as ever, but he immediately smiled when he saw it was Izuku and moved to make room. Izuku slipped himself into the pile, the betas warmly welcoming him, especially when he purred happily. It wasn’t very often he got to pile with those his own age. Usually he was surrounded by all manner of people. There was something very special in having his peers nestled in around him.

He hadn’t been there very long when Katsuki’s cocoon shifted. A hand emerged from the blankets and found Izuku’s arm, immediately jerking back. Katsuki sat up, clearly startled, so Izuku purred again, as he always did when someone was scared.
“What’re you doing?” Katsuki mumbled.

Izuku hushed him, nodding toward the others. Eijiro had fallen back asleep almost immediately and the others were still snoring contently. Katsuki glanced over each of them, then lowered himself back into his nest.

“You look warm,” Izuku said. It was meant as simply an observation. Somehow, Katsuki took it as an invitation.

The alpha reached for him again and this time, Izuku took his hand, allowed himself to be pulled away from Eijiro. Katsuki shifted the blankets until they fell over Izuku, their weight enveloping him. He purred, snuggling into the nest, pausing when he found skin. Katsuki’s chest was warm to the touch. Izuku hadn’t realized he’d taken off his shirt under the blankets. The feel of smooth skin gave way to rough scars when Izuku spread his hand. Under each finger, he felt the pulse of heat and blood.

All at once, he realized he was still pressing his hand to Katsuki’s bare chest. That he hadn’t pulled back and apologized immediately. That it had been far too long to simply say it had been an accident. And, that for even in that moment, when he knew he was doing something he shouldn’t, he still didn’t pull away. And neither did Katsuki.

“Is… this okay?” Izuku whispered.

Katsuki shifted, a palm pressing against Izuku’s hand. “If it’s okay for you, then yes.”

Still, he hesitated. Was he taking advantage? Was this really okay?

…why did it feel so wonderful, being so close?

Izuku searched for Katsuki’s eyes in the dark, but either he was turned away and they were closed. He reached forward and found the line of Katsuki’s chin, up along his jaw, felt as the alpha’s lips part under his fingers.

What the hell am I doing?

Katsuki’s lips were moist, Izuku’s fingertips skimming close to teeth. Katsuki made a breathy noise and Izuku paused, not knowing if this was still okay, until the alpha rumbled, the sound low and pleased. The palm pressed over his hand cupped, dragged his touch up to the hollow between Katsuki’s throat and shoulder.

Why am I doing this?

He knew why. He knew his heart ramming into his ribs was excitement and delight and nervousness and eagerness. He knew there was a smile on his face, heat in his cheeks seeping lower and lower and lower.

Katsuki’s teeth edged along Izuku’s palm, down to the notch where his wrist began. His other hand had dragged Izuku close enough to wrap around his waist. Their legs were getting tangled. Izuku worried Katsuki might notice where all that heat was pooling in his lower body, then nearly laughed at himself. Of course Katsuki would know.

What am I DOING???

It was thrilling, feeling Katsuki’s hands on him. Feeling the light brush of teeth against his skin. Getting to put his hands on Katsuki in return. He hadn’t even realized how long he’d wanted this, how much he’d been aching to explore Katsuki’s body. To feel the strain of muscles under his skin, the heat in his body mirroring the heat he felt in Katsuki’s, the rush of an excited sigh against his elbow.

“Tell me what you want.”

Something shivered up Izuku’s spine at Katsuki’s words. He ducked his head low, finding the alpha’s ear.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked up, seeing the sleeping pile of Katsuki’s friends just inches away, the rest of the pack beyond them.

The heat under his skin started to boil in protest as Izuku took a breath, knowing he’d had his fun. This wasn’t fair. To Katsuki and to the pack.

This was a mistake.

“Not now,” Izuku whispered.

He went to draw back, only for Katsuki to lift his chin. A hand tangled in Izuku’s hair, rougher than he’d expected. Before he could stop it, something between a yelp and a moan escaped his lips. He felt Katsuki’s lips curl in delight against his cheek and the heat rushed wildly through his body.

“Whenever you want, whatever you want, then.” His voice was so low Izuku barely heard it.

Izuku shook his head, trying to get loose and when Katsuki didn’t let go he hissed quietly, but found the sound was edged playfully, and when the alpha released him Izuku immediately snapped forward and nipped at his face.

He saw a flash of eyes, one gray, one red, and suddenly the alpha’s mouth was on his. There was a moment of maybe shock, maybe awe, then Katsuki’s hand was sweeping up the back of his neck and Izuku closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss.

He hadn’t kissed someone like that in so long. And he’d never felt such a rush at any kiss before. His head felt pleasantly emptied and his body heavily present. He wanted so desperately to see what Katsuki would have done if Izuku let him. Izuku wanted so desperately to see what he would have done himself if he could just let go.

But he couldn’t. Not here.

So he softly pulled away and Katsuki let him go. Izuku thought about rolling away but before he could, Katsuki had grabbed him around the waist again and was pulling him into his chest. Izuku nuzzled into him, the weight of the blankets and the weight of the alpha next to him settling all down his body. His limbs tingled with unspent energy. He was frustrated and he knew Katsuki was as well, but he soothed himself by burrowing deeper into the nest, feeling Katsuki shift to accommodate him.

Faintly, Izuku wondered if Katsuki had ever slept with another omega before. Or with anyone, really. He seemed experienced.

A breath tickled the fine hairs at the back of his neck, and he heard Katsuki whisper, “You’re wonderful. I hope you know that.”

Many people had told him that. But no one said it like Katsuki.

Still feeling a bit frustrated and maybe a little greedy, Izuku tilted his head toward the alpha’s lips. “Call me shula.”

Katsuki chuckled. “Shula,” he drew out each letter, a delighted hiss to a flick of tongue against teeth.

Izuku shivered, even more so when Katsuki shifted to draw him nearer, to find that comfortable place where they lined up alongside one another, occupying the same space at once.

They shouldn’t be doing this. Izuku knew it. He suspected Katsuki did as well. But neither of them went to stop it. Instead, Izuku closed his eyes and let himself so still and limp in the alpha’s arms. Katsuki dragged a hand in lazy circles under his shirt, along his back, down to his hip, up again. His touch was soothing in a way Izuku didn’t know it could be.

He waited, for what he wasn’t sure, and when sleep closed over him, he wasn’t all that eager to will it away.

- - -

When Katsuki woke the next morning, he knew Izuku wasn’t next to him. He lifted his head, found the pack sprawled out just as they had been the night before. At their center, Izuku was curled up among several of the younger pups and their mothers, squished into place as if he’d been there all night.

Katsuki hadn’t heard or felt the omega get up. He wondered, for a moment, if he’d only dreamed of Izuku next to him. But he couldn’t have imagined the warm touch of his hands, the slow, tentative and explorative way Izuku had searched his body, how he had hesitated once, then let himself go and just how glorious it had felt to have Izuku choose to be vulnerable with him.

His wildest dreams couldn’t have conjured up the moment their lips met, especially when Izuku kissed him back.

And yet, the dream had ended where Katsuki imagined it would. With Izuku among his pack and him alone.

Then he rolled over slightly and bumped into Eijiro, who snored in annoyance and shifted a bit closer and kept sleeping as if nothing had happened. Katsuki stared at him, at how relaxed and easy it was for him to sleep next to an alpha who had, at one time, been his enemy.

Well, perhaps he wasn’t completely alone after all.

Chapter Text

Katsuki joined Izuku and his family for breakfast the next morning and as much as Izuku tried to be casual about it, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off the alpha. Especially when the muscles in his arms flexed as he reached for his teacup, taking it gently from Soren’s hands.

“Izuku?” His mother called, and Izuku jolted.

“Yes?” He realized, too late, that he’d been openly staring again.

She was frowning at him. “Are you okay? Did you sleep well? I know you were worried.” She kept glancing to Toshinori, maybe asking him for help, but the pack alpha was distracted staring out over the pack. He hadn’t noticed either his mate’s silent pleas for help nor his son’s errant ogling.

“I’m fine! Thanks! Slept okay!” He ignored Katsuki smiling into his tea and hoped no one else noticed either. He also hoped no one had noticed his insistence on Katsuki joining them for breakfast. Izuku had felt bad about leaving him to wake up alone that morning and thought breakfast would help assuage him that anything was wrong. But mostly, he later realized, he’d just wanted to excuse to sit next to the alpha again.

Dammit. Izuku drank his tea. What have I done?

He’d never fallen in love before and he didn’t think that’s what this was, but he didn’t have another word for it. Was he attached to the alpha now? Had nesting with him inadvertently created a bond with him? Omegas were sensitive to such things, Izuku knew, but he’d nested with Shoto before without this strange twisting in his gut. And not to mention, he very clearly remembered what he’d been thinking about when his father asked him about his preferences for a mate. Was this all just part of that?

Another thought struck Izuku so hard he choked on his tea, turning everyone’s attention to him.

Was he… going into heat?

It was unusual for unmated omegas to go through heat spells, but it wasn’t unheard of. He’d never had a true heat before, but maybe that’s what this was. Maybe it was simply that he needed to spend a private night with the alpha and all these complicated feelings would go away.

…that’s a stupid thing to think. Izuku buried his face in his hands, embarrassed by his thoughts and by his choking fit. His mother patted his knee sympathetically.

When she drew away, he felt Katsuki lean in toward him. “You okay?” The alpha asked.

He sounded so sincere. And somehow that just made things so much worse.

“Yes. Fine. Thank you,” he added quickly. “Soren, please. Tea.”

“Your face is red,” Katsuki noted.

Izuku sat up a little straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The alpha leaned a little closer and snapped his teeth together, the sound ringing in Izuku’s ear. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Hilarious,” Izuku deadpanned, accepting when Soren gave him another cup.

Ignoring Katsuki’s amused grin, Izuku glanced out over the pack. In everything that had happened the night before, he hadn’t forgotten what had happened in that very hall.

Alpha and Jest had invaded their most sacred places, without permission and without having to use much force at all. Kenji was still recovering and would eventually be back to full strength, everyone hoped, but the fact remained: they weren’t safe and that had been proven in stark black and white.

Izuku could see the unease in short glances around the room, in tempers flaring among different groups, of glares tossed in the direction of Shota’s pack. To some, it felt coincidental that Shota’s pack arrived the very day Alpha and Jest had found a way into their village. Izuku knew Shota had nothing to do with it, but others were not so convinced. It was maybe more convenient to blame them than to admit that they were simply unsafe against an enemy that could appear anytime he pleased.

That morning, Shota had chosen to eat with his pack. They were gathered near the back of the hall, all of them hunched together and splitting food as was tradition in their pack. No one in their circle gave much mind to Toshinori’s pack surrounding them, but they must be aware of the whispers going around. The discontent was growing, and it would only get worse if they did nothing about it.

Izuku pondered this as he drank his tea, thankful for the distraction. He would have to deal with Katsuki soon, but for now he had more pressing matters.

“Father. What do we do now?” Izuku asked. He was hoping for some insight to whatever had happened during his meeting with Alpha and Jest. So far, Toshinori had refused to speak on it.

Katsuki leaned forward, clearly interested. Alpha and Jest had wanted him returned to them, as if he were an object to trade. Even if Toshinori would never do something so terrible, he had reason for wanting to hear what the pack alpha planned next. It concerned him, much more than it had only hours earlier.

Toshinori took note of Katsuki’s gaze. “Alpha and Jest are a threat to the pack. We will meet that threat with force, if necessary. I explained this to them. If they come into our territory again, we will set them straight.”

“Yes, but, wasn’t that what we were doing before last night?” Izuku pressed. They needed to do something more. “We still don’t know where their pack is, do we?”

“Izuku, enough.” Toshinori’s voice was harsh, cutting. Izuku flinched back at the reprimand, but he set his jaw and refused to bow his head. “The council and I will make that decision. If anything concerns you, you will be informed.”

“I am the aeon of this pack. Anything that effects the pack concerns me.” Izuku challenged.

“And I am the alpha of this pack,” Toshinori replied evenly. “It is my duty to see the protection of our people. Which is exactly what I intend to do. You have done well keeping the peace. Keep to your duties and everything else will be handled.”

“You can’t seriously believe that your work doesn’t effect my duties.” Izuku growled.

“Izuku, enough.” Toshinori warned.

“If you really believed everything was well, you wouldn’t be telling me to stay away,” Izuku pressed. He felt Katsuki tensing at his side and his mother reached for him, but he kept his focus on Toshinori. “If this was really about my duties as aeon, you wouldn’t be so concerned. So. What aren’t you telling me, Father?”

Toshinori stood so suddenly he knocked his plate aside.

The entire hall went quiet, a wave of hushed noises ending with a quiet cough, a sea of eyes turned toward the head table. Izuku kept his chin raised and met his alpha’s eyes, refusing to blink. The challenge set between them rippled, but Izuku wouldn’t be moved.

He had never challenged his father in this way before. Hardly anyone had. Enji, perhaps, but no one else dared. And Izuku could feel the pack responding to the tension between them, the unease that was splintering into something jagged, sharp. Everyone was already so on edge, and they were simply making it worse.

As aeon, he should be the one to set aside his own feelings for the betterment of the pack. As an omega, he should have deferred to whatever the alpha told him. As a son, he should have bowed to his father’s orders.

And yet, what had bowing and pacifying and otherwise doing as was expected of him gotten him?

A short noise of disapproval reached his ear just before Mirai stepped between him and his father. He looked first to Toshinori, then turned a reprimanding glare to Izuku.

“Aeon, please come with me. There is something we should speak on.”

“Mirai,” his father warned.

Mirai held up his hand. “If you are so intent on us doing our duties, then let me do mine. Aeon?” He gestured for Izuku to lead the way.

As tempted as he was to stay and continue his challenge to his father, Izuku sensed that Mirai had something he wished to divest, perhaps including whatever it was his father refused to tell him. So he stood, gesturing for Katsuki to follow him.

Mirai held up a hand again. “He stays.”

“He comes with me.” Izuku replied.

“Aeon—”

“I said he is with me.” Izuku growled when he spoke. He would not be refused. Not this time.

Mirai paused, as if weighing his options, before gesturing him forward again. Izuku marched onward, feeling Katsuki slip in behind him. When he glanced out over the pack, he saw Shoto watching from the edge of the room and nodded to him, Shoto crossing quickly to join next to him. Flanked by the two alphas, Izuku led the way out of the dining hall and down to the council room.

No one spoke the entire way. Both alphas were tense as they followed, especially when Mirai stepped around them to walk inches from Izuku’s side.

“We should speak. Alone.” He added.

Izuku thought about arguing, but when they reached the council room, he gestured for the alphas to wait. “I’ll call if I need you,” he said, and both Katsuki and Shoto were satisfied by this answer. While they dropped into guard positions at the door, Izuku and Mirai stepped inside.

Once the door had shut behind them, Mirai faced him, his expression a hard line sharp as a knife.

“The mating request we received. Your hand for protection. It came from Alpha’s pack.”

Izuku’s skin prickled. He remembered Alpha nodding to him, recognizing him, and how Jest hadn’t aimed to hurt him, just to stop him. How Alpha had said that a proposal he had sent had led to some confusion. His mother’s reaction when Alpha had said that. She had known. Maybe Shota had as well. And Izuku had completely missed it.

Mirai let the declaration hang for a moment before he lifted a hand to examine his nails. “We refused, of course. It’s a ploy to take over our pack using you as a way into the pack’s leaders. It’s not even a very good ploy at that. But it does highlight a weakness of our pack that we very desperately need patched. Immediately.”

The head beta leaned in. He was taller than Izuku and had to stoop slightly to get within inches of his face. Izuku bared his teeth in warning but Mirai simply blinked. “Your refusal to choose a mate is getting tiresome. You need to accept that it’s time to settle down with someone. And I don’t meant just anyone.” His gaze flicked up toward the door, toward Katsuki and Shoto.

Izuku bristled. “What do you mean?”

Mirai sighed, exasperated. “I can’t believe I have to spell this out. Your father is getting older. And weaker. He won’t be able to protect the pack forever. He needs a successor. Either you need to give him one or you need to confirm you won’t, so he can search for one within the pack. Same for me. I’m ready to start training a successor. Either mate one or I’ll find one.”

“I have much bigger worries than finding a mate right now, Mirai,” Izuku hissed. “We have enemies appearing in our midst whenever they want! Isn’t that more important than you wanting to give up your position as head beta?”

“It’s more important than ever because of what has happened.” Mirai didn’t raised his voice as Izuku did, but he did narrow his eyes. “If something were to happen to either myself or your father, we have no one ready to take our place in the pack. No one even lined up to take our place. Which means, you need to step up and do what is right for the pack. Pick a new head beta or pack alpha. Now.”

At first, Izuku opened his mouth to argue. Then Mirai’s words sunk in and he blinked. “I thought we were talking about my potential mate?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me make this very clear, Izuku. You’ve shown almost no interest in anyone so far and the ones you do show interest in are not good candidates for either head beta or pack alpha positions. I know you’ve set up a deal of some sort with Shoto to pick him as mate should you not like anyone else, but Shoto is a poor pick for pack alpha and we both know it. So he isn’t a viable option.”

“Hey,” Izuku snarled, but Mirai cut him off.

“And let’s not even mention what I was told just this morning!” Now the head beta raised his voice, cutting his arm across his body to punctuate his words. “Did you enjoy your dalliance last night? With the rogue of all people?”

Izuku snarled furiously and Mirai ignored him again.

“You could have been seen. You were seen! You’re lucky it was by someone with discretion! What would Shota think if he heard you were nesting with him of all people.”

“Katsuki is not a rogue, he is a survivor!” Izuku hissed.

Mirai eyed him flatly. “We cannot trust anything he says. Someone is lying to us. Alpha and Jest have no reason to. They hold power in this situation, and what good would it do them to lie to us about Katsuki’s origin? But Katsuki? He gained a lot by telling us he was simply a rogue acting in desperation. Instead, he’s an agent of a rogue pack. And he’s even abandoned them. A rogue, through and through. Looking to use up what he can and move on when he’s collected what he can take. And I truly worry that includes you, Izuku.”

It was only the sincerity in Mirai’s voice that kept Izuku’s fury in check. The head beta had always kept a polite distance, a line in the sand that made their duties easy to understand and follow. Izuku kept care of the pack. Mirai ensured the pack ran smoothly. They worked in tandem but separate spheres. And he didn’t usually take much of an interest in what Izuku was doing, so long as he was doing what needed to be done.

But there, at the very end, Izuku heard true concern in his voice. For the first time in years, Mirai had spoken to him not as the head beta, but as a member of his pack. Someone who wished to look after their kin. And that gave Izuku just enough pause, to sit in stunned silence of everything Mirai had said. To realize, very slowly, that there were doubts. Maybe more doubts than he had ever wanted to admit. And he didn’t know what to do with those doubts.

Mirai closed his eyes and took a breath. “Would you like my advice as your head beta, Aeon? Mate with Hitoshi. He has good ties within our pack and with a pack we need to strengthen our bonds with. He would make a good head beta for the pack and I seriously doubt he would mind if you continued your… trysts, as I’m sure he’ll want to have his own trysts with Denki. It would work perfectly for the both of you and would be best for our pack.” He leaned in close again. Izuku felt too numb to growl back. “But whatever you do, stop whatever this is you’re doing with the rogue. Leave. It. Be.”

He waited for Izuku to speak, then stood. “I’ll fetch Hitoshi. You and him will speak. Come to an understanding, if you can. Report to me if you reach one. I’ll handle things with Toshinori and Shota.” He stepped from the room, leaving Izuku standing there, cold and alone.

His first instinct was to run out the door and collapse onto Shoto. He craved the reassuring warmth of the person who had always been at his side, who had been set next to him since nearly the day he was born. They had been raised in tandem, to rely on one another since pups. And Izuku knew he was only a few steps away.

But Katsuki was out there. And Izuku didn’t know what to do with Katsuki at that moment.

Very suddenly, more than anything else, he wanted his mother. He wanted his mother so desperately that tears filled his eyes and he felt small, insignificant. Nothing more than a child left on his own.

He was still standing there, tear-filled, when the door opened again. Izuku knew it was Hitoshi and didn’t turn to look at him, felt him linger in the doorway.

Then, he sighed. “So. It’s finally happened, has it?”

Startled, Izuku turned, and he saw mirrored in Hitoshi the same overwhelming resignation he felt within himself. He remembered, all at once, the gift Hitoshi had given him, his interest in Izuku’s courting robes, the look in his eyes when Izuku had told him it would be okay if he didn’t attend to the omega’s courting season. How he had been pressured by his pack recently too. He’d been waiting for Izuku to speak first, but he had known this was coming.

The tears spilled from Izuku in a ragged noise, his knees suddenly weak under him. He sat down heavily, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, desperate to stuff the emotions back inside. All he managed was another sob.

Hitoshi crossed the room and pressed a hand to his shoulder. “I know. It’s not fair, is it? But we always knew it wasn’t going to be.”

He was right. When had it ever been fair for them? Izuku had worked so hard for the good of the pack, and the one time he’d done what he wanted, when he had gone to be solemn guard at the Moon, they had been invaded by rogues. He had brought Katsuki into their pack and now Alpha and Jest were looming at their borders.

He had made mistake after mistake.

As much as he wanted to stop crying, he couldn’t, and when Hitoshi couldn’t find a better way to help him, he stripped out of the jacket he was wearing and laid it over Izuku’s shoulders, then went to the door and called Shoto and Katsuki inside. The alphas heard him crying and hurried to him in their own ways; Shoto crossed to him and wrapped his arms around Izuku’s shoulders while Katsuki circled them and stared back at Hitoshi accusingly.

Izuku knew what he was doing. Already, he was acting as Izuku’s beta, as his mate. Protecting and comforting him in the ways he knew how. Keeping him together and keeping things moving smoothly.

Mirai was right. He would be a great head beta for the pack.

As quickly as the tears had started falling, Izuku took in a breath and they stopped. The sorrow still dragged at his body, his limbs heavier than they had been before, his eyelids drooped. He would have given anything for a nap.

To Hitoshi, he asked, “Is this why you and your father came? Because you knew this would be the end result?”

The alphas, confused and agitated, glared at Hitoshi, half prepared to attack him, until Izuku waved for them to relax. Then Shoto drew him closer and Izuku let himself nuzzle into the alpha’s warmth. His shadow, always by his side. More uncertain, Katsuki lingered where he was, watching as the situation unfolded. Understanding was weaving together in his eyes, and Izuku was afraid how he would react when he finally figured out what was happening.

Even under the pressure of the alphas, Hitoshi remained calm. A pillar in his own right. “No. My father brought us here because he knows this wouldn’t end just with your pack. Alpha would move on to the next territory and the next, until he’d wiped us all out.” He gestured between himself and Izuku. “This? We always suspected that this would be inevitable. It makes too much sense. But it had nothing to do with us being here now.” He paused, then dipped his head, not quite a bow, but just enough to know Hitoshi was deferential to Izuku. “What my father said still stands. We wouldn’t have forced the issue. It was still your choice. Always.”

“What choice?” Katsuki snapped. “Izuku, what is he talking about?”

Izuku couldn’t face Katsuki. Couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t watch whatever was about to happen. “Mirai has… advised it would be for the best if I was mated to Hitoshi. Sooner, rather than later.” His voice trailed off and as it did, Shoto sighed and hugged Izuku tighter to him. He seemed just as resolved. Had he also known that this was inevitable? How long had everyone else known Izuku’s fate?

For a long moment, Katsuki was silent. Then, “So, what? That really what you’re going to do?”

Izuku cut a glance toward Hitoshi, perhaps hoping to find resistance there. But Hitoshi had already given himself over to his fate. He stood at the entrance, a tall pillar to hold up a pack that wasn’t his own. He would have to adapt to Toshinori’s pack, but he had always been perceptive, and he was already starting to adjust how he moved to better fit.

It was inevitable. Mirai was right. Hitoshi would make a great head beta, and he would be a good mate to Izuku. Even if they didn’t love each other now, maybe they could learn to, given time.

Resistance came from a surprising place. “You shouldn’t. Unless it’s what you really want.”

Izuku looked up. Shoto’s face was set, determined. He was a line that refused to be crossed. A shield held up to protect those he loved. And in his own way, he loved Izuku. Just as much as Izuku loved him. They had been pups together, grown up together, hurt and laughed and changed together. Izuku knew he’d never have to live his life without Shoto nearby, and he knew Shoto took just as much comfort in the thought that he did.

They were meant to be together. Two souls bound by the friendship between them.

And he knew Shoto wouldn’t let him hurt himself.

“Listen,” he said, and Izuku held his breath, “my mother gave up herself, her own life, for the betterment of the pack. To make us stronger. And what did it get her? What did it get our family?” He grabbed Izuku’s shoulders, holding onto him tightly. Izuku could feel warmth and cold from each hand. “Don’t compromise on this, Izuku. It’s not worth it. Not when I know you can do this without having to compromise. Not when I know you want something else.”

He didn’t look up. He didn’t look at Katsuki. And Shoto didn’t either. But both of them were acutely aware of his presence in that room. Both of them acknowledged him being there, along with what Shoto was trying to say.

Then, a thought struck Izuku.

“What if—” he glanced to Hitoshi, still standing tall at the door. He thought about Denki, who had no idea what was going on, who would be just as devastated if they announced a courtship between Izuku and Hitoshi. And how Hitoshi had said the people of his pack were unhappy with the thought of their alpha’s son taking a beta as a mate. “What if we did compromise?”

Shoto frowned and Katsuki narrowed his eyes, but Hitoshi tilted his head, interested. This effected him just as much as it affected Izuku. In that gesture, Izuku saw him looking for a way out. A way to make all of this well.

“Hitoshi,” Izuku said slowly, “what if… we did arrange a mating between our packs?”

- - -

They had sat down to agree to the particulars, but by the end of it, everyone seemed satisfied. Hitoshi still had some reservations, and Izuku completely understood why, but they both knew it was the better option. It was an opportunity instead of a shackle. One that Hitoshi could do something with.

When he stood to leave, Hitoshi bowed to Izuku first, took his hand and kissed his upturned wrist. It wasn’t a gesture common in Izuku’s pack, but he knew it was a sign of utmost respect and honor in Hitoshi’s.

“Thank you, for this.” Hitoshi said.

“We don’t have to do this,” Izuku said slowly.

Hitoshi glanced up at him. “I think it’s the best option we have. And I think you’re right. Our fathers aren’t friends, but we have always been allies. It’s time to reinforce those bonds between our packs. Especially in times like this.” He stood, still tall and still proud, and maybe even a bit happier now. “I need to speak with my father. There will be a lot to do. And I’ll need to talk to… to Denki. Make sure he would be okay with all of this.”

“I think he’ll be just fine with the arrangement,” Izuku said sincerely.

Hitoshi let out a nervous laugh. “I hope you’re right.” He bowed again. “I’ll be off, then. See you later.” With that, he slipped out, letting the door shut behind him.

Once he was gone, Izuku sighed, exhausted. He’d never done such intricate negotiating before in his life. That was usually Mirai’s job. But he thought he’d done rather well at it. Both parties seemed happy with the arrangement. Now all they had to do was convince their fathers of their plan. And Mirai. Izuku really didn’t know what Mirai was going to think about all of this.

Shoto and Katsuki, who had mostly sat back and watched the negotiation, were now watching him. They had stepped back to let Hitoshi and Izuku speak, but now Shoto pulled himself closer.

“You did good.” He said.

“I hope so.” Izuku rubbed his arms, feeling a bit cold. They hadn’t lit the fire and it was very cool within the wooden walls of the council room.

Shoto reached into the firepit and summoned fire to his fingertips, igniting the coals and wood within. Izuku held his hands to the fire, grateful for the help.

“So. Why now?”

Katsuki’s voice chilled him even more, but he didn’t know why.

“Why now what?” He asked.

Katsuki stood. He walked slowly, deliberately, to the other side of the fire from Izuku, sitting across from him as if they were now entering into negotiations. Shadows played deeply across his face, especially around his scarred eye.

“Why was Mirai telling you to mate with Hitoshi now? You’ve known them for a while, haven’t you? So. What changed?” He was searching for something.

Unbidden, the memories of the previous night surfaced and Izuku looked away. He supposed Katsuki was probably hurt, remembering how they had explored each other only hours before now to be confronted by Izuku talking of mating with another person.

“Alpha… made demands of my father. Specifically, he was the one who sent the demand for my hand in exchange for protection.”

Shoto stiffened and Katsuki dipped his head. The firelight rolled off his cheeks, casting him further into shadow. The look in his eyes was murderous.

“So. Better to mate you to Hitoshi then to give Alpha the chance to steal you?” Katsuki’s voice was steady and even. Somehow, this was more frightening than anything else.

“That is… partially why. I am overdue to announce my courting season. So I’m sure that’s part of it as well.” Not to mention everything Mirai had said. He hadn’t been wrong in his assessment of the situation, even if Izuku didn’t want to admit it. Their pack was at a dangerous moment, the leadership aging and without proper heirs to step into their positions. They had to rectify that, sooner rather than later.

“But it doesn’t matter though, does it? Because you’d never agree to something like that.” Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Right?”

Izuku opened his mouth, intending to say no, he’d never.

And the words didn’t come out.

Because, in a way, Izuku could very well see himself giving himself up for the betterment of his pack. Wasn’t that what he had nearly just done?

Katsuki took in a deep breath. He locked eyes with Shoto. “Give us a minute.”

Shoto didn’t move. “What?”

“I said. Give us. A minute.” Katsuki bit the words off a little too sharply.

Shoto bristled in reply, but Izuku put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said, nodding at the alpha. After all that had happened, he wasn’t afraid of Katsuki. If he wanted to talk, fine. They could talk.

Still, Shoto lingered, clearly uneasy. When he stood, it was with reluctance. “I’ll be outside.” Close enough to hear if something went wrong. Izuku wasn’t really sure who he was more concerned about.

And then Shoto walked away and then he was alone with Katsuki.

Katsuki tilted his head again, the firelight spreading over his face. It caught the glint in his alpha eyes, a predator zeroing in on prey. A chill crawled up Izuku’s spine. For a second, he rather liked the idea of being prey. But only if Katsuki was the predator on the other side.

“So.” Katsuki’s teeth clicked together. “Talk.”

Chapter Text

“What would you like me to say?” Izuku challenged.

Katsuki felt himself twitching. What the hell was this guy’s problem?

“Why don’t,” he felt each word catch between his teeth, hissing past them, “you start with the part where you won’t be giving yourself up to Alpha.”

Izuku took a breath. Katsuki could see him thinking through his words. “If necessary,” he said slowly, “and if there was no other choice, I would give myself up. It would be my duty, as aeon to the pack.”

Katsuki clucked his tongue. “Did you know I never saw omegas in that pack? Did I mention that at any point?” He paused to watch for Izuku’s reaction. “How about this one: Jest once told me that any loose weight in his pack gets dealt with. You wanna know my theory why I didn’t see any omegas? Because I think Alpha uses them up and when he’s done he slits their throats and throws them in the nearest river. You really gonna be okay being fish food?”

“No.” There it was. A breathy edge to his voice. Katsuki had rattled him, and Izuku was scared.

Good. Katsuki didn’t like seeing Izuku scared. But he needed the omega to understand the seriousness of what was happening. “Right. And guess what? I can think of a few hundred people who wouldn’t be okay with that either. So maybe, you fucking tell me that you aren’t going to do something stupid like let Alpha and Jest just have you because they asked nicely.”

“If I have any other choice, I won’t,” Izuku said, then added, “and I can’t see any time when I wouldn’t have any other choice.”

“That was a whole lot of words that essentially amounted to no.”

Izuku’s jaw clenched, a line drawn across his usually round face. “Then I guess you weren’t listening.”

It was so unfair how beautiful Izuku looked when he was angry. “Are you just desperate to be a martyr? Is that it? You really want to have the chance to die to make yourself think you’re making a difference?”

“Stop it,” Izuku snarled. He bared his teeth just like an alpha sometimes. Katsuki hadn’t noticed it until this moment, but he saw it, the way he pulled back his lips and jutted his head forward. Just like his father did. Guess he’d learned it from the pack alpha. “I have to put my pack before me. That is my duty as aeon!”

Katsuki barked out a laugh edged with too many teeth. “Why does it take so much convincing to get you to save your own life when you’re so willing to fight for your chance to choose a mate?”

Izuku startled, his eyes widening. Just like that, he lost that edge of alpha to his face, to his posture, and he sat there like a dumbfounded pup. Confused. A little lost.

Katsuki waited for him to gather himself. “Well? Tell me. Why compromise on your life and not on your mate?”

“Because I—” Izuku bit his lip.

This time, Katsuki wasn’t patient enough for his answer. “You were perfectly fine nesting with me last night. But you guard your right to mate so jealously. Against even your own life. Thought up a whole new compromise with Hitoshi but not when it comes to Alpha. Do you know how ridiculous that is?” Do you know how much that hurts me?

“I won’t mate with Alpha,” Izuku said, as if that meant anything at all.

“Right. But if asked, you’d walk right into his village so long as he promised not to hurt your pack.” Katsuki leaned back. He’d been so close to the fire that steam was rising from his skin. He hadn’t noticed it before, but backed away, he felt his skin radiating heat. “Is everything you do for the betterment of your pack? Do you do anything for yourself?” He paused. “What about last night? Was that just to make me feel better?”

“No,” Izuku said at once, and only to his last question. “No. Last night I… it wasn’t just because you wanted it.”

“So then what the hell do you want, Izuku?”

“I don’t want to get anyone hurt because of me,” Izuku said.

“Oh, so that’s it!” Katsuki slapped his hand against the floor, pleased by the solid thunk and the pain it generated. “Your life, who cares, but your mate? Now you’re involving someone else!”

“Katsuki, please stop.” Izuku ran a hand over his face, pressed into his forehead.

Katsuki hoped he was getting a headache from all this. He hoped he was feeling even a fraction of the pain roaring in Katsuki’s ears. “What would you do if I just walked out into the forest right now? Just kept walking until Jest showed up?”

“You can’t do that!” Izuku said immediately. Far too quickly, and with far too much fear.

But Katsuki could work with that. “Why? What the hell would it matter to you what I did with my own life?”

Izuku bit his lip. “I know what you’re trying to do. But this is different.”

“Oh is it? Because my life isn’t as important as yours, since you’re the aeon? More people rely on you, which must mean your life is worth enough to sacrifice.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Izuku snapped.

Katsuki slammed his hands on the floor again. He wanted to jump through the fire, grab Izuku by the collar. And after that, he didn’t know what he would do. But he wanted his hands on the omega. Wanted to grab onto him and make him understand just what the hell he was trying to say.

Instead, all he could manage was, “Are you really going to just throw your life away?”

“I don’t want to.” He meant that. But it also wasn’t a no.

“What the hell was all this with Mirai earlier? And with Hitoshi? What is actually happening here, Izuku? Or do you not want to explain it to a rogue like me?”

“You’re not a rogue,” Izuku pressed, and Katsuki choked on a laugh.

“Oh, right! I forgot! Alpha and Jest claimed me long ago! Dug me out of the ashes of my home! Saw everyone else fucking dead but didn’t just leave me to die in peace with them!” When he slammed his fist against the floor this time, something cracked and lovely pain shot up his arm. He winced on reflex and smiled through the sensation.

In an instant, Izuku was at his side. “You’re bleeding. Let me see it.”

Katsuki was so tempted to jerk his hand away, but the omega’s touch was more soothing than any balm. He could feel his willpower to fight draining away, could feel himself sagging forward as Izuku pulled his arm up to examine his knuckles. Three were split and one was already starting to bruise and swell.

“I think you broke it,” the omega observed.

“Wonderful.” Katsuki flexed his hand as much as he could, feeling how stiff his fingers already were. He pressed his face into his uninjured hand, palm cupped over his eyes. He sighed, the last of his resistance bleeding out of him. “Izuku. I’m trying so hard.”

“I know. I know you are.”

“I really don’t remember being part of his pack.”

Izuku was quiet. “If it makes you feel any better, I think Alpha was lying about you being with them.” When Katsuki looked up, the omega frowned at his swollen knuckles. “Jest… he appeared to me a couple weeks ago. He told me that if I let them take you, my pack would be spared. He said you were just a rogue that betrayed even them. He said you had always been a rogue and would always be a rogue. So I think… Alpha was lying.”

Katsuki picked through his words, staring at the omega’s waist. “Your knife. Jest was the one who gave it to you.”

Izuku stiffened, but eventually said, “Yes. He did.”

“You didn’t tell anyone.”

“No. I… I was worried they would have sent you away.”

“So what? You protected me by selling out the rest of your pack?”

“I didn’t think for one second that giving you up would actually have made them leave.” Izuku chanced a glance up at him. “Katsuki, I… I really do count you as one of ours. You aren’t a rogue. Maybe you were before, but now you’re one of us. That is… if you want to be.”

Katsuki set his jaw. “What did last night mean to you? Did you… even want it?” He growled, angry that he was hesitating, that he couldn’t say what he actually wanted to say. “You kept talking about your courting traditions. And keeping to them and how important they are to you and your pack. And yet, I kiss you and sleep next to you and wake up alone and then you’re going off to mate with someone else. So what, Izuku? What do you actually want? And where do I fit into it?” He hissed as Izuku suddenly pressed into his knuckles.

“This one is definitely broken,” the omega proclaimed. Then, he pressed his palm over the open wounds. “Listen. It’s not that simple. Whoever I mate will become the next leader of our pack. Either I pick a beta and they become the head beta. Or I pick an alpha and they become the next pack alpha. Choosing a mate for me… isn’t just about wanting that person. It’s… for the pack.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Ridiculous. You’re the pack leader’s son. Shouldn’t you be the next leader? Not whatever shmuck you nest with.”

Izuku smiled. “That’s very kind of you to say. But I don’t think I’d be a good pack leader. And it’s not how it works here.”

“Ridiculous.” Katsuki said again. But he was slowly piecing something together. Specifically about what Izuku had said about him choosing a beta as a mate. “So. This deal you made with Hitoshi.”

“Yes?”

“You said your mate becomes the next head beta or pack alpha.”

“Right.”

Katsuki stared down at him. “But you aren’t going to mate with Hitoshi.”

“No. Probably not.”

“But he’s still willing to take the head beta position. By mating into the pack with Denki.”

“Yes.” Izuku smiled. “They’ll be very happy together. And Mirai was right about one thing. Hitoshi would be an amazing head beta for our pack. It would strengthen the bonds between our pack and Shota’s, and we need to strengthen those ties. And if Hitoshi stayed with his pack, it’s unlikely they would have accepted him mating with another beta. So yeah. He agrees to stay here, with us, and take Denki as his mate to become our head beta.”

“Denki isn’t you though.” Katsuki said slowly.

Izuku laughed a little. “Excellent observation.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, waited.

Eventually, Izuku shrugged. “I can’t mate to both a beta and an alpha. Well. Maybe I could, but I don’t really want to. So we’ll need to cover for one of those positions anyway.”

“So….”

“So?”

“So what does that mean for you?”

Izuku looked away. All his earlier pride and mirth were suddenly gone, faded away until all that remained was the echo of it still in his smile. “It means I have a little more time. But eventually, it means I’ll have to make a choice.”

Katsuki swallowed. “Do you think Alpha will demand your hand again?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he did, would you agree to go with him?”

Izuku didn’t say anything. They were back to where they had started.

“You can’t.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, Katsuki.”

“You can’t.”

“Katsuki, I—”

Katsuki snarled and shoved his face into Izuku’s, until all he could see were wide, startled eyes and feel a gasped breath against his cheeks.

“You can’t go with them.” Katsuki poured everything he could into his words. They weren’t a command. Truth be told, he didn’t know if Izuku would listen to anything he commanded. They were a plea, him begging. He just did so with a few more teeth than most.

Izuku swallowed. Katsuki watched his throat bob. “Fine. But you can’t go with them either. No matter what happens.”

“I’m not giving up. I was never going to give up. You were the only one talking about surrendering.”

“It’s not surrendering—”

Katsuki growled again. Finally, Izuku’s eyes narrowed and he peeled his lips back, a warning. Took him long enough.

“Tell me now. You won’t let Alpha have you.”

Izuku said nothing at first. Then, “You tell me first.”

“Alpha’s never going to get the better of me again. I’ll crush him.” Katsuki laced his words with a snarl, a delighted sneer splitting his face. Maybe he’d frozen when facing Alpha last. But that wouldn’t happen again.

Izuku took a breath. “Fine. I won’t do what he wants. I’ll stay here.”

“No matter what he says or does?”

Izuku set his jaw.

“Izuku,” Katsuki growled.

“No matter what.” There was fight in the omega’s words. He wasn’t being completely truthful, but that was fine. He’d said them now and Katsuki could work with that.

He leaned away, releasing Izuku from the challenge between them. “I don’t know how long I was with Alpha. But I know you can’t give into their demands. They’re doing all of this to force your hand. So don’t give them what they want. Don’t let them win.”

“I won’t.” There was still an edge of trepidation to his voice. Uncertainty. Maybe he was thinking about Kenji, with Alpha’s hand around his throat.

“And if Jest shows up again, you use that knife. Kill him if you have to.”

Izuku swallowed. This time, Katsuki knew what he was thinking about.

“I know it doesn’t feel right. Killing someone. But if it’s them or you, you better make sure you’re the one standing in the end. Got it?” He left no room for compromise.

And to his credit, Izuku nodded. “Okay. Yes. Fine. I’ll… do what I have to.”

“Good.” Katsuki closed his eyes. He was suddenly tired, even though he’d slept so well the night before. Even thinking about Alpha was exhausting. The residual scars of whatever Alpha’s presence had on him were itching. And he wasn’t even sure why Alpha had such an effect.

A touch at his jaw drew his thought carefully away. Izuku had crept a little closer, his knees brushing Katsuki’s. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki’s mind felt empty, focused only on the warm brush of fingers against his skin.

Izuku cupped both his hands against Katsuki’s cheeks, holding him steady enough that Katsuki could let go, let himself go boneless in Izuku’s palms. He kept his eyes closed, but he felt the omega drawing even closer.

“Last night. I’m sorry about last night. It wasn’t fair to do that to you.”

“Do what exactly?” Katsuki thought about last night. He hoped Izuku would kiss him again.

“It… wasn’t appropriate. To do that with the others around. And I felt terrible leaving you alone in the morning. But I… the pack needed me. So I made sure I was with them, in the end. I can’t help it. I’ll always put them first.”

Katsuki sighed, a low sound akin to a grumble. “That’s why you would be such a good leader, you know. I would follow you. You know that.”

“I know.”

“Others would too. I see the way they look at you.”

There was a heavy pause. Katsuki almost peeked through his lashes, but he wanted to just imagine what the omega was thinking. What expression might be laced through his freckles and down his lips.

Then, Izuku said, “I see the way you look at me.”

At this, Katsuki smirked. “Yeah? Can’t blame me for admiring something so wonderful, can you?”

“Well. I’ll admit it’s kind of nice.”

Katsuki lifted his hands, wanting to touch Izuku, but immediately the omega grabbed his, pushed his hands into his lap.

“What you said last night,” he said, a little hurried, a little breathless, “did you mean it?”

“Course I did.” Katsuki could only hope he knew what Izuku was talking about.

Izuku laughed, still breathless. “Well. Will you come by my dwelling tonight? Alone?”

Katsuki felt teeth edging into his smile. He leaned the rest of the way forward and kissed the omega, thrilled when Izuku kissed him back.

He leaned back too quickly. “I’ll be there.”

Izuku nodded. “Good. Um. Don’t… expect anything too… you know.”

“Whatever you want.” Katsuki meant it. Just getting to spend time with the omega was worth anything. Even just to watch him sleep, a silent guard in the night. He could be content with that, so long as he was always nearby, watching Izuku be amazing. “You just tell me.”

“All right.” Izuku leaned away and Katsuki finally opened his eyes. The room seemed brighter than before, but he couldn’t tell if that was because his heart was beating loudly or because he’d been in darkness for so long.

He did notice that Izuku’s face was noticeably red. “I need to go speak with my father and Mirai. And probably Denki and Shota and Hitoshi. We have a lot to do, if this is going to go as planned.”

“Will they force you to announce your courting season because of this?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku smiled. “They might try. But that doesn’t mean I will.”

“Do you want to?” Is it okay for us to do this even if you do?

Izuku smiled a little brighter. “I’m not ruled by courting traditions. They’re more for the pack than anything else. So I might, for the better of the pack. But I—” he broke off suddenly, catching Katsuki’s eyes then looking away.

Katsuki searched Izuku’s face. “Would you like it if I participated when you did?” He asked.

The omega wouldn’t look at him, but his face flushed a deeper red. “Yes.”

“Do you think the pack would be mad?”

“I don’t know if I care,” Izuku laughed.

Katsuki felt his chest swelling. “Good. You should get to do what you want. You deserve that, you know.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to be able to participate.”

Katsuki studied the omega, how he shied away when he said this, how he avoided looking straight at him. He reached out, touched Izuku’s chin, waited until the omega met his gaze before he said, “No. I mean it. You deserve to do something for yourself. Because you’re smart, Izuku. You know what you’re doing. And even if someone else doesn’t approve, I’d trust any decision you made. Well… most decisions. Get better at taking care of yourself and I’ll never question another choice you make ever again.”

“I think you should. Question me, I mean,” he added when Katsuki tilted his head. “It’s good to know… that someone will tell me when I’m being ridiculous.”

Katsuki’s lips peeled back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. “Well, I’ll keep letting you know. As long as you’d like me to.”

“Thank you, Katsuki. And I… well, I…,” he trailed off and gently moved away from Katsuki’s touch. “I need to get going. But… you’ll see me tonight?”

“Nothing can stop me.”

A smile broke over Izuku’s face, at the same time he ducked his head and his cheeks flamed red again. “All right. Good. Um. Well. I need to go. Do things. And you should rest, after what happened yesterday.”

“I’m okay,” Katsuki tried to say, but Izuku shook his head, the color fading already.

“It’s all right to need some time to breathe. Why don’t you ask Kaya to help you take a cleansing bath? Wash away everything Alpha said and did. Start anew. Maybe you’ll feel better?”

It wasn’t a terrible idea. The first time Katsuki had taken a dip in the cleansing pool, it had been a literal cleansing, the dirt washed from his skin and his hair and under his nails. But the stains of all he’d been through still lingered. He had faced both Alpha and Jest and frozen both times. He needed to find a way to face his fears, to stand up to them and fight. Izuku needed him to fight. The pack needed him to fight. And, he realized that he’d never be able to move completely on if he didn’t learn how to fight for himself.

“Okay. I’ll do that.”

Izuku smiled, took Katsuki’s hand, and nuzzled into his palm. At first Katsuki thought he was looking for attention, but then he realized this was something else. A marking, perhaps. Izuku was making sure to get his scent on Katsuki, similar to what he’d done when they had returned from the ridge.

Mine, he was saying.

Katsuki shivered when Izuku let him go. The omega took a breath and said, “I’ll see you soon. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll be fine. Just don’t let them push you around.” Izuku would be okay as long as he stood up to them.

Izuku seemed a little hesitant, but he nodded and led Katsuki back outside.

Shoto was waiting still, outwardly passive though Katsuki could tell he was anxious by the way his fists were clenched.

“Everything all right?” He asked.

“Yes. Fine. Everything’s… well it’s going to be okay.” Izuku glanced at Katsuki then away quickly. “But I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day. Walk with me?”

“Of course.” Shoto rose to follow him and Katsuki felt a prickle of something hot and uneasy. Jealous, maybe.

Then Izuku smiled at him and the feeling melted away. “Take care of yourself today, Katsuki.”

“Go do amazing things,” Katsuki said, and he realized a little too late he’d been a little more sincere than he’d meant.

Izuku ducked his head and blushed again and Shoto narrowed his eyes between them, searching for something unsaid. Before he could puzzle it out, Izuku pulled him away. Katsuki watched them go, breathing in deeply. He found more space in his chest than he had previously. It was easy to breathe. It was easy to think everything would be okay, somehow. Izuku would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

Izuku couldn’t honestly tell what Mirai thought about the arrangement, but he knew Enji passionately hated the idea. Luckily, he seemed to be the only loud holdup.

Hitoshi had already agreed, obviously, and Denki was all too eager to agree when they clarified he wouldn’t be expected to take on additional duties as the head beta’s mate. He would have to support Hitoshi, but that wouldn’t be much different from what he’d normally have to do as a mate anyway. Shota was amenable to the situation; in fact, Izuku sensed a bit of relief when he explained their proposal to the group.

Toshinori hesitated only a moment. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” He asked.

Strange as it was, he was speaking to Izuku. But Izuku knew why. If Hitoshi mated with Denki and became the head beta, he would be expected to take an alpha as a mate, limiting his prospects. His prospects would be limited even more by the fact that since their new head beta was not born of their pack that it would be expected their pack alpha would come from the pack. In this arrangement, Izuku eliminated the possibility of him ever taking either taking a beta as a mate or someone not of their pack.

But Izuku didn’t hesitate. “This is what’s best for the pack.”

Toshinori nodded as well. “Very well.” He turned to Mirai.

Mirai, of course, would have to agree to this. He would ultimately have to take up responsibility for Hitoshi’s training; Hitoshi knew the basics of being a head beta, but he also would need guidance on the different expectations between their packs. That, and it would be up to Mirai to incorporate Hitoshi seamlessly into their pack. There would be some resistance. Izuku knew that. Not everyone would want to see an outsider as their head beta. But everyone had also always known it was a possibility; Izuku had been under no obligation to mate within his own pack. Their leader could have very well come from a different pack altogether.

Which, when Izuku really thought about it, was a strange thought.

Then he remembered what Katsuki had said. That he would be a good leader. That Katsuki would follow any decisions he’d make. And how Katsuki’s pack had been led by an omega.

And, how Katsuki’s pack had been destroyed overnight.

Izuku couldn’t let that happen to his pack.

Mirai paused for a long moment, eyes closed his thought. Then, he sighed. “I will take on the boy. See if he will work well within our pack. And if he proves reliable and worthy, then I will step aside when the time is right.” These last words, Izuku knew, were ceremonial. Even if Mirai wasn’t completely sold, he was at least willing to take the first step forward.

Which was slightly strange, seeing as it had been Mirai to suggest Hitoshi for the position in the first place.

“All right, then.” Shota turned to Toshinori. “You and I will speak on the specifics. What this will mean for us going forward. But I will be taking Hitoshi back with us when we return to our village. We’ll have a more proper introduction to your pack once this is all over.”

Once this is over.

Izuku bit the inside of his cheek. Part of the reason they were doing all of this now was because of the threat posed by Alpha’s pack. They needed Hitoshi’s support. They needed that clear line of succession. But Shota wanted to wait until Alpha was gone.

To his bewilderment, both Mirai and Toshinori nodded. “Understood. We’ll ensure everything is prepared for when you and Hitoshi are ready for the formal introduction,” Toshinori said.

Shota nodded once, then pushed to his feet, gesturing for his son to follow. Hitoshi bowed to those gathered before following his father out. Instead of the council room, they had all gathered in the dining hall around the head table. Although it was unusual for negotiations to happen so publicly, Izuku knew that had been best. He wanted to see the initial reactions people had when they first caught wind of what was being discussed at the head table.

A few people had looked over, startled, and some had eyed Hitoshi warily. But overall, Izuku had the sense that Hitoshi was well liked for an outsider. It did help that Denki was so endearing, and that Hitoshi was so close to him.

Denki was seated next to Izuku, clearly a little nervous being included among so many important figures in the pack, and more so when Hitoshi and Shota stood and left. Still, he waited for Toshinori to dismiss him with a wave before he thanked everyone and hurried away.

As soon as he was gone, Mirai tapped his leg. “Izuku,” he said, his voice sharper than before, “I hope this means you’re thinking about everything we spoke of earlier.”

Right. It had been Mirai’s idea to have Hitoshi as head beta. But now that he was going to be mate Denki, that left the pack alpha position open for Izuku to fill with his mate. And both the alphas Izuku had shown “interest” in weren’t good candidates in Mirai’s eyes.

It was insulting to have it thrown back in his face, but Izuku kept his composure. He’d won this fight and it wouldn’t do to get ahead of himself. “I listened. I always listen to what you say, Mirai.”

Mirai made a noncommittal noise the same time Enji scoffed.

“Is this really the time to be worrying about these trivialities?” He lifted his hand to gesture over the dining hall and the pack gathered there. “We have the entire pack to think of. Protecting them from this threat. Do we really have the time to waste on finding Mirai’s replacement?”

“I’ll remind you, Enji, that not all warriors of this pack are just warriors. You will need the fishermen warriors and the head beta warriors.” Mirai pointedly glared back at Enji.

Izuku knew that Mirai, though not an official warrior of their pack, was certainly well trained and strong. He’d trained and fought with Toshinori in his prime, and even if his path as head beta had kept him away from combat, Izuku still wouldn’t want to have to face him in a fight.

“Your status as head beta does not stop you from fighting for our pack,” Enji countered.

“It does not. However, seeing as I have no heir or successor at the moment, then should I die in service of our pack, you would find yourself in a rather sticky situation. One I want to avoid if at all possible.” He glanced at Izuku as he spoke, though Izuku couldn’t quite pick out why.

“We would be fine without you, Mirai,” Enji said impatiently. “Survival comes before anything else. Whether we have a head beta or not doesn’t matter if everyone is dead.”

“It might matter if you need someone skilled in tracking down and collecting up everyone. Hitoshi is a wonderful tracker and scout. He would be able to fulfill our greatest needs first, should I fall in battle.” The tension between the two was acidic.

Izuku swore he could taste it when he opened his mouth. “Under what circumstance would we be scattered and in need of regrouping like that?”

Mirai, Enji, and Toshinori all shared a look. The conversation died then, leaving Izuku’s question unanswered. Because when Izuku thought about it, the only reason something like that may happen was if the pack fell. If they were forced to flee their village. If nearly everyone else had been killed.

Hands shaking, Izuku stood. “Excuse me, please.”

No one stopped him when he left the table, nor did anyone reach out to him as he passed through the dining hall. A few muttered, “Shula,” as he walked past, but he only acknowledged them with a nod. With things taken care of for now with Hitoshi, he finally had a moment to think for himself. And now all he could think about was what Katsuki had said, how his pack had been annihilated, how Mirai was preparing for that same situation.

He kept his breathing even until he reached an old, ramshackle dwelling just at the outer edge of the inner ring. It was carefully and precisely built; Izuku could see his father’s hand in the construction, but it had been left to wear around the edges, as if the occupant had never heard of cleaning off leaves and moss from the wooden beams. The weighted flap at the entrance shivered slightly when Izuku approached and he had to steady his voice before he called for entry.

“Come on in, kid,” a voice responded, and Izuku ducked through the first flap, forgetting about the second and nearly stumbling straight under it.

Even all these years later, he still forgot about the second skin of Torino’s dwelling. An insulted layer to keep in the warmth. As an older beta, he had often complained of the cold, until one day Toshinori showed up and pulled velvety furs and leathers over nearly every wall and the ceiling. They hung, bathing the beta’s dwelling in a cozy, confined atmosphere. It felt a little like being in a nest.

Torino was curled up in the center of the dwelling, nursing a steaming cup. The rug he sat upon was also layered and soft and warm, and Izuku melted a little upon sitting next to Torino. Unfortunately, this had the added effect of unleashing all the emotions he hadn’t noticed slowly bubbling under his skin and when he opened his mouth, he unexpectedly sobbed, startling himself.

Torino hummed. “Yeah, kid. I understand.”

“Do you?” Izuku ran his hands over his eyes, mortified when it did nothing to staunch his tears.

“Lot of pressure on you. You’ve done really well holding up so far. But everyone has their limits, and you’re well past yours.”

“I can’t be. The pack needs me.”

Torino offered his cup. Izuku took it and drank deeply, finding his favorite tea. He shot Torino a look, since he knew the old man wasn’t a fan of this particular tea, but Torino had stood to shamble over to a chest in the corner.

“Coat of yours is looking ragged. You’ll need to commission new feathers for it soon.”

Izuku blinked, twisted to get a look at his coat. Sure enough, the feathers especially along the edges were starting to turn gray and wilt, like flowers left out in the sun too long. He knew his coat molted like a normal bird, that the feathers didn’t last forever and every now and then a team of warriors went out and returned with offerings of new feathers for him. But that hadn’t happened in a while. Ever since before the first rogue spotting.

“It’ll be time for the rock eagles to start nesting soon. Which means they’ll start molting. Which means if you want some feathers, you’ll have to send out warriors to the ridge.”

Izuku ran his hand over the fraying edges, then turned away. “We can’t afford it. It’s all right. I’ll just… stop wearing it. Or I’ll find a way to patch it for now.”

“Uh huh. And how long until people start noticing you don’t have it anymore? How long until they start asking questions and worrying about where that coat of yours has gone?”

Izuku snuggled into the feathers, unsure how to respond. Because he knew what Torino was trying to say.

When Torino returned, he had a sack with him which he handed to Izuku. Inside, he found a stash of rock eagle feathers. They clearly needed a bit of maintenance, but the pack tailors would be able to brighten them fairly easily.

“Here. And take care of yourself, Izuku. You’re right. The pack needs you. But don’t forget about the you part in that sentence, all right?”

Izuku sniffled, then laughed when Torino handed him a square of cloth. He used it to wipe his face. “Mirai asked… well… he told me I should mate with Hitoshi to make him the head beta.”

“Oh did he now.” There wasn’t a question in Torino’s voice.

“But I… talked with him. And I set up an arrangement. He mates into the pack with Denki and afterward Mirai will train him to be the next head beta.”

Torino nodded. “It’s good compromise. You came up with that all by yourself?”

“Well. Hitoshi and I negotiated. But… it was my idea to come up with a compromise.”

Torino appeared again with a kettle this time, and Izuku held his half empty cup up when Torino offered. While he poured, Izuku continued, “I would have been okay… mating with Hitoshi. He would have treated me very well. But….” He bit his lip, staring into the steaming liquid.

Torino set the kettle down on a nearby stool. “It was good of you to recognize that you didn’t want to do this, but that you still worked to find a solution to the problem at hand. Question now becomes, what are you going to do next?”

A beat of silence between them, long and steady as a heartbeat. Izuku drank his tea, even though it was too hot, relishing the rush of heat down his throat. “Actually. I have a question for you first.”

“Go on then.”

“Why… that is… the pack alpha is our leader. And has been for a long time.”

“You mean Toshinori?”

“No, I mean. The pack alpha position. We’ve always had a pack alpha as our leader.”

Torino tilted his head. “Not always.”

Izuku closed his mouth. He opened it again, then looked away. “Oh. I didn’t… know that.”

A hand ruffled through his hair. He felt instantly like a pup again, but not in a demeaning sort of way. Torino had only ever ruffled his hair when he’d done well, and something like relief washed through him at the touch.

“Go take care of your coat, Izuku.” It was an order this time.

Izuku smiled. He drank more of his tea. “In a moment. I want to finish this first.”

Torino smiled. “Good choice.”

- - -

Kaya called her daughters to help with the cleansing and once again, Katsuki lowered himself into the water and watched dirt float off of his skin. When the water stream opened overhead and poured down his shoulders, he tipped his head back and let the water run over his forehead, his face, off his chin.

Kaya stood above chanting again, “You are welcome. You are safe. You are whole.”

She had said much the same when he’d first arrived. Ritual words she probably said to many others. Strange to think, but knowing that her words were more ritual than truth diminished them in his mind. The first time he’d heard Kaya speak over him, he’d felt warm and light, despite not knowing her as well as he did now. Now, her words were soothing but meaningless.

Until Kaya’s daughters joined in the chant, telling him he was welcome and whole and safe. They had not done that the first time. Katsuki glanced up, intending to ask about it, but all three girls had their hands held up as if in prayer, whispering those words over and over again. Their combined voices washed through him like the water over his skin, the dirt peeling away. He leaned back and listened and let himself be cleansed.

When the chanting was finished, the water was stoppered and Katsuki left to soak. Kaya’s daughters again went away, though this time with less giggling, while Kaya remained to watch over him.

Once they were alone, Katsuki said, “Your daughters helped out more this time.”

Kaya nodded. “They recognize your place with us this time. Before, you were an anomaly. Now, you’re bit more mundane. How’s that make you feel?”

Katsuki leaned back and said nothing. Ritual words that meant both nothing and everything. His pack hadn’t had something like that. They’d done most of their rituals through movements, dances, maybe a few words to emphasize the point. He remembered standing in front of Toshinori and dedicating himself to the pack alpha, as he had stood before the old lady and dedicated his life to her. He remembered the old lady nodding solemnly, then admonishing him for being too lax about the ceremony. And he remembered Toshinori’s palm on his head, the warmth of his touch.

Everything mixed in his head, topped with the memory of Izuku kissing him, asking him to come to his dwelling that night.

“You seem strange,” Kaya said.

Katsuki sighed. “What do you mean?”

“I expected you to be more upset about what happened. But you seem lighter than before. As if you’ve been relieved of something.”

Katsuki leaned back enough to stare up at the sky. The trees filtered shadows and sparks of light down on him. He found he was comfortable in the cool embrace of the canopy sky. “Can’t let Alpha have power over me anymore. Can’t let what happened yesterday happen again. So I won’t.”

“While I enjoy the sentiment, I hope you know it won’t be that simple.”

Katsuki closed his eyes and thought of Izuku rubbing his scent deep into Katsuki’s hand. He had placed that hand on the rocks slightly above the water, as if to buoy himself though in truth he didn’t want to get it too wet. And, he realized, it was ridiculous of him to be doing that. “Don’t have a choice. Alpha will be back. I need to be able to fight him. For the pack.”

“For the pack?” Kaya repeated, and Katsuki startled. He hadn’t realized he’d said that part out loud.

The words had felt so natural on his tongue that he hadn’t noticed them. They had only been the natural conclusion to that sentence. For the pack. Didn’t Izuku say that a lot?

Katsuki snorted. “Okay, well, it’s for me too. I’d love to get to grind his stupid face into the dirt. For all the shit he’s put me through.”

“And what, exactly, has he put you through?”

There was a hesitant edge to Kaya’s voice. It was hard to read, and Katsuki didn’t know how to handle it. In all the time he’d known her, he’d known her as fierce and unyielding, a small old omega that reminded him too much of the old lady while being a person all unto herself. And maybe at first he’d clung to Kaya because she had reminded him of what he lost. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he stayed with her because she was one of the first to treat him as one of her own. She had claimed him as easily as Eijiro had, even if she hadn’t done so quite as publicly. She had simply collected him up and set him to bloom like any of her other flowers. And he had been so starved for care that he hadn’t even noticed when she’d started watering him.

It was odd to think about. How he’d slept in her garden one night and now he might be counted among her flowers. But that hesitant edge to her voice. There was something dangerous there.

He looked up and saw that Kaya had turned to stare down at him. She reached forward to press a hand to his forehead, much as she had done during the first cleansing, much as Toshinori had done that first night in the dining hall.

“If he hurt you,” she said, “then I will make sure he pays for your suffering.”

Katsuki frowned and leaned away. “Don’t be stupid. He’s strong. And a lot younger than you. Leave it to me.”

Kaya leaned back and sat on her heels. “Of all the people in this pack, I would think you wouldn’t be the one to underestimate me.”

“Don’t be like that. He’d hurt you. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

“But it’s okay for you to get hurt?”

Katsuki paused. This conversation was achingly familiar in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I’m a warrior,” he tried to say, even though he knew that was crap.

Kaya barked out a laugh. “So was I, once upon a time.” When Katsuki stared at her, she puffed out her chest just like an alpha. “Oh, yes. Not for very long, but back when I was young, we had a few problems that we had to deal with and I decided I’d had enough of it all. Went out and used my blessing to make sure we caught the troublemakers and set them to rights. Then my mate came home from exploring and told me he loved me more than he could ever explain, then suddenly I was with pup and there wasn’t much more fighting to do anyway.” She shrugged.

There was a trap in her words and Katsuki was smart enough not to fall straight into it. “I have to earn my keep somehow, Kaya. And fighting is just about all I can do.”

“That’s not true at all.” She glared down at him. “You’ve been with our sweet shula quite a bit recently. And he isn’t as sweet as he once was.”

At first he thought it was an accusation. Then he saw the shine of satisfaction in Kaya’s eyes. She turned her back to him to give him some privacy.

“Listen. This pack is very old and very set in its ways. It’s worked this long and that’s made it seem like keeping to the ways we’ve always been will ensure our survival for generations to come. But that’s not how it works.

“My mate. He would go out and meet other people, other packs. Sometimes, he’d meet the same pack over many years. And he saw it happen. How clinging too tightly to traditions can so quickly kill you off. It starts slow, yes. Then suddenly you’re too far behind to catch up and it’s already done.”

Kaya glanced over her shoulder. The shadows framed her face and for a moment, she looked much younger, brighter, fiercer, if that was at all possible. “We need people who are willing to challenge our traditions. To ask why and not be willing to back down when the answer is this is how we’ve always done it. Our sweet shula. He’s been an adventurous thing since he was little. Got himself and Shoto into some outrageous trouble. It was all terrible fun, I’m sure. But that’s made him scared. And it’s good he has someone to tell him he doesn’t have to be scared.”

Katsuki considered her. “You know. My pack was led by an omega woman.”

Kaya sighed. “What was her name?”

“Chiyo.”

“Well. That’s a very good name. I’m sorry she’s gone.”

“Me too.” Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Izuku reminds me of her sometimes. He could be great, you know.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I know all too well.” Kaya stood and brushed dirt from her knees. “You’ve done well for our pack. Just keep doing what you’re doing and let us help you, hmm? And if Alpha gives me a chance to knock his teeth in, you aren’t going to stop me from taking it.”

Katsuki grinned. “So long as I get a shot too.”

“Naturally!” Kaya waved dismissively. “Now. Take your time. You deserve to soak away everything that’s happened to you.” She stepped away from the ledge, probably still close enough to make sure he didn’t drown but far enough away to give him the illusion of privacy.

Katsuki leaned back, letting his hair dip into the water. There wasn’t enough room to float, but he did let his arms go limp against the surface of the water and closed his eyes.

He hadn’t been there long when a horn sounded, and Katsuki knew someone or something was approaching the pack.

- - -

Just as before, the warriors gathered at the perimeter while everyone else scattered into dwellings, a few brave souls lingering to see who had arrived. Izuku heard the horn from Torino’s dwelling and rushed to see what was happening, aware of the old beta at his heels.

Toshinori and Shota were already standing ready at the head of their packs, Shota’s warriors sticking to the shadows while Toshinori’s stalked out in the open, snarling in warning. Izuku went to join the pack alphas, only for Shoto to appear in front of him. Just like before, warriors started circling around him to keep him back and protected. Izuku wanted to tell them to back off, but he knew it would only upset them when they were already on edge. He scanned the crowd for Katsuki, but didn’t see him. He hoped the alpha was okay, that maybe Kaya was keeping him back.

The uneasiness remained, until a howl went up. Izuku stiffened at it, then realized both Shota and Toshinori had visibly relaxed at the sound. A mix of reactions swept the warriors, some freezing in place while others stood up, their shoulders untensed. When a second, third, and many other howls joined the first, someone behind Izuku joined in the howl. He blinked in surprise when he saw it was Torino.

The old beta grinned at the answering howls, stepping forward. “Head up, kid. Want to greet our guests nicely.”

“Guests?” Izuku hated that he was a bit breathless.

He felt someone press near and a hand ghosted near the small of his back, just before Katsuki stepped into his line of sight. He was dripping wet and glowering unhappily.

“These freaks,” he growled.

“What freaks?” Izuku demanded.

Shoto tilted his ear toward the forest. “Listen,” he said, and Izuku did just that.

When the howls went up again, he realized he knew that call. It was familiar, if cautious, and just as the last ragged ends of the call petered out, a figure appeared through the trees, then two and three and more. They leaped into view with much less enthusiasm as their envoys had only weeks earlier, but with that same sort of manic, excitable energy. Izuku bristled at the sight of so many teeth bared back at them, even though he knew they were all smiles.

A tall alpha stepped forward, an elegant and precise sway to his steps. He was easily the tallest alpha Izuku had ever seen, though he was built like a birch tree, all thin, flexible limbs, liable to bend rather than break. Still, he knew this man without having met him before.

Alpha Tsunagu.

Just as Shota had brought his warriors, so it seemed had Tsunagu. And there were a great many more from his pack than Shota’s. The forest gleamed with eyes and teeth, anticipating the fight to come. A short howl rose up from the pack, a sort of greeting, as their pack alpha stepped forward.

“Greetings, Tsunagu,” Toshinori bowed his head. “You and yours are welcome here.”

“My thanks, Toshinori. It is good to see we do not face this alone either. Shota.” He bowed his head to both pack alphas.

Shota grunted in reply, though something about the stiffness of his shoulders made Izuku believe he wasn’t nearly as happy as Toshinori to see the other pack alpha.

If Toshinori noticed, he didn’t say anything to Shota. “Come. Bring your pack into our village. We will speak.”

With a short gesture from Tsunagu, his pack tumbled into the village, yipping and yowling as they did. Several of the warriors clustered around Toshinori’s warriors, asking questions and introducing themselves. A few slunk in like Shota’s warriors had, but even these silent figures brought with them a renewed energy. Exactly what they needed in the fight against Alpha.

Torino stepped forward as the pack alpha started toward the council hall. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go see what old Tsunagu has to say.”

Izuku stepped to follow, pausing when he noticed Katsuki wasn’t at his side anymore. The alpha was watching Tsunagu, eyes narrowed and lips thin, at the very edge of a snarl.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Katsuki’s gaze only flicked to him before returning to the pack alpha. “He’s the one who takes in rogues, yeah?”

“Sometimes, yes. He does more than the other packs.”

“He’s the one who kills them if they get out of hand?”

Katsuki’s sudden unease lined up too perfectly with his question. Without thinking, Izuku took his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Ha,” Katsuki bore his teeth in delighted fury, “I’d crush him.”

Deciding it was better not to encourage such behavior, Izuku pulled Katsuki toward the council hall.

Chapter Text

This time, no one even glanced at Shoto and Katsuki as they slipped inside behind Izuku. When Izuku took his spot next to his father, Shoto and Katsuki took their places slightly behind him, watching over the proceedings. Shota and Hitoshi joined the meeting as well, Hitoshi between his father and Mirai. The placement felt natural, even though Izuku knew it was very deliberate. Tsunagu and two of his warriors sat directly across the fire from Toshinori, with Enji and Touya on one side and Tenna and her sons on the other. Although they were penned in, neither Tsunagu nor his warriors seemed the least bit concerned, if they noticed at all.

Toshinori started the meeting by asking how their travel had gone, if they had been waylaid at all.

“Not waylaid, but we were certainly watched.” Tsunagu said with a certain amount of wariness.

Toshinori dipped his head in acknowledgement. “No doubt by Jest, Alpha’s personal scout. He has been spying on us as well.”

Tsunagu interlaced his long fingers and fit them in his lap. “Why don’t you explain all that has happened since our envoys left?”

And so, Toshinori did just that. Izuku paid close attention to the parts he spoke at length and what he simply recounted, and what was left unsaid completely. There wasn’t much left unsaid, though Izuku figured that was more so because Shota was also there to notice such discrepancies. But there were a couple points Toshinori had not made with Shota that he also avoided speaking to Tsunagu about.

The room seemed to chill as he spoke, until Tsunagu closed his eyes and bowed his head forward thoughtfully. When Toshinori went silent, Tsunagu said, “And you, Shota?”

Shota’s recounting was much shorter – that he had received a request from Toshinori, same as Tsunagu, and that he had sent Hitoshi to investigate, how he had come to the decision upon Hitoshi’s return to help and their unimpeded journey to the village. He did not mention, crucially, the agreement between their packs to have Hitoshi become the next head beta of Toshinori’s pack. Izuku knew it would do nothing but spark tensions between everyone when they needed so desperately to work together.

“If Alpha and Jest can appear whenever they wish, then we must be prepared to face them at any moment,” Tsunagu said simply. “Add my warriors to your rotation. We will keep the village safe and allow Shota’s warriors to do what they do best.”

“And what might that be?” Shota kept his tone neutral but his eyes sharp.

Tsunagu nodded toward Shota. “Search out our enemies. The forests here are perfect for your warriors to scout out where they may be hiding. I know your warriors have looked, Toshinori, but you must admit that even the most junior of Shota’s warriors would perform just as well if not better than your scouts.”

Toshinori made a discontented noise but didn’t otherwise argue.

Seemingly mollified, Shota settled on his heels. “Very well. If we can find where they are hiding, then we can take the fight straight to them.”

“Is that your intention, Toshinori?” Tsunagu said, and both him and Shota turned to face the older pack alpha.

Toshinori stared into the fire, his hands clasped in his lap. “It’s not within our nature to wish harm on anyone. Not even these rogues. But they are a danger. And they must be dealt with. Even if that means destroying their pack in the process.” He took no pleasure in saying it. Izuku felt his stomach twisting up in knots and he saw Katsuki’s jaw tightening.

“Perhaps a show of force at their border is all they will need,” Tsunagu said hopefully, though they all knew they couldn’t count on such luck.

“In any case, we thank you for your assistance, Alpha Tsunagu,” Toshinori bowed his head and Shota did as well.

Tsunagu bowed his head in reply. “It is our duty to look out for one another. Now. Onto other important matters.”

These “other matters” included the small problems of how to properly house, clothe, and feed all of the new warriors in the village. Shota’s group had been comparably small and easy to incorporate, but Tsunagu had brought many more warriors to aid in their fight. It helped that they had brought some supplies with them, mostly to help them make the trip to Toshinori’s village, but they would still need to be assured of basic comforts.

It was a tedious discussion, but Izuku listened carefully, eventually suggesting that while Shota’s warriors were searching for Alpha’s pack, they could use the time to hunt for additional game farther afield than their typical hunting grounds. Shota seemed amenable to this idea, and it was adjusted to fit the reality of their needs.

Izuku was pleased he could help, and that no one had ignored him. He had spoken in such council meetings before, but never on such important issues. War had never arisen in their territories; at most they had dealt with the odd rogue or two, and Izuku had never before had anything useful to say in those conversations. They had all been taken care of by people who had dealt with rogues for many more years than he’d been alive. Now though, things were different. And Izuku couldn’t help but again remember what Katsuki had said, what Torino had said.

When all the most pressing matters were settled, Toshinori invited Tsunagu to an early evening feast, which Tsunagu declined with surprising grace.

“Myself and my warriors have been traveling without stop. We all need rest more than we need food. But in the proper evening, we will feast with you.”

Satisfied, Toshinori nodded. “Your pack can gather in the dining hall. It’s large and warm enough for everyone to rest comfortably.”

“Thank you,” Tsunagu bowed and stood. “We will speak again soon.”

When he and his warriors had left, Shota said, “So. Tsunagu showed up.”

“So it seems.” Something in Toshinori’s tone had Izuku listening closely.

“Do you think Shinya and Yoroi will come?” Shota’s tone suggested he already knew the answer.

But Toshinori artfully dodged by simply saying, “They know of our plight. That’s all I can do for now.”

Izuku didn’t think they should be expecting anymore help, and by Shota’s doubtful look, he figured he wasn’t the only one. But their ranks had swelled even since Alpha and Jest had last appeared. They now had a fighting chance when before they were simply scrambling to stay afloat. Izuku had never before heard of a pack strong enough to take on the combined force of three other packs. Even Alpha and Jest might have second thoughts about attacking when they realized how outmatched they were.

“Tsunagu brought a lot of his pack,” Shota continued as if that had been the original topic of their conversation.

“I noticed.” Toshinori gave nothing away, though Izuku didn’t know what there was to give away in this exchange. Until, that is, his father looked up. “Is Hizashi keeping an eye on things while you are gone?”

Hizashi, Shota’s mate and his pack’s second in command, a beta of remarkable volume in every sense of the word, was nearly the antithesis of the typical warrior in Shota’s pack. And that made him one of the more dangerous because of it. Strangely enough when facing one of Shota’s warrior, you were taken aback more by the frontal attack than the ambush laid in wait, and Hizashi was the one who could be counted on to lead any such assault.

But Izuku had noticed he was clearly missing. He’d noticed it when Shota’s pack had first arrived, peeling from the shadows in silent, swaying fashion, without any fanfare to announce their arrival. He hadn’t given much thought to it. But by the sharp way Shota suddenly looked at Toshinori, he realized perhaps he should have.

“He’s home to report any movements while we are gone. Just because Alpha and Jest have shown no interest in other packs doesn’t mean he isn’t aware of them. Especially seeing as Tsunagu said they were being watched.”

“Do you believe he intends to take down my pack first then follow to the others?” Toshinori pressed.

Shota pushed himself to his feet, ending the conversation. “I think he’s a fool for power, and you’re a beacon for fools.”

Toshinori laughed good naturedly, despite the tension in Shota’s reply, and said, “Well how do you explain your showing up to my defense if all I attract are fools?”

“Don’t be coy. I’m a fool for doing this. But I don’t think we have any other choice but to stand against this together.” Shota paused, halfway between leaving and sitting back down. Eventually, he sighed. “I’ll admit, I don’t see this going well for us.”

Toshinori hummed quietly, as if he agreed.

Izuku stared between the two. “Why?” He demanded, and they both refused to look at him. “We’re fighting them together. We might not know how many are in Alpha’s pack, but we’ve never been beaten before. And never when we’ve worked together.”

Toshinori didn’t react, but Shota’s gaze immediately fell to Katsuki.

Something in the look startled Izuku. Not because Shota was looking at Katsuki – in fact, he seemed to look right through Katsuki, to something much worse.

To a pack murdered overnight, without any warning. To a sole survivor bearing scars from wounds that should have killed him. To the realization that something was out there strong enough to eliminate an entire pack all at once. And now they were facing an unknown entity of unknown strength, one that could come and go as it so pleased.

Izuku swallowed uneasily. “We can beat them.” He kept his voice steady and clenched his fists to hide them shaking.

“We will do everything in our power,” Toshinori replied, which felt like he was already preparing for the worst.

“No,” Izuku pressed, “we will beat them. We don’t have any other choice.”

Toshinori smiled and placed his hand over Izuku’s fist. “Go rest, Izuku. We’ll gather tonight for a welcome feast for Tsunagu’s pack. Until then, there’s nothing more you can do.”

It was a slap in the face as well as a dismissal. It was his father trying desperately to protect him. And Izuku was not happy to hear it.

He pulled away from Toshinori’s touch. “When’s the last time you rested, Alpha?”

He used the hard bite of his father’s title to hurt him, and he saw Toshinori flinch back both at the accusation in his words and his voice. Regret pooled immediately in the wake of his anger, and he bowed his head.

“I’m sorry. That was… unfair for me to say.”

“No. You are right.” Toshinori tucked his hand in his lap as if Izuku’s rejection had stung. “I do need rest. Perhaps while Tsunagu and his pack rest, I’ll take the opportunity to do the same.”

“Yes, Father,” Izuku bowed his head, aware of everyone watching him, listening to the exchange with a close ear. Something was happening between them and Izuku didn’t want to put a name to it, not with everyone there as witness.

Shota, who hadn’t yet left, nodded to Toshinori. “I’m sure someone will inform you if you’re needed. I’ll keep watch until then.”

“Thank you,” Toshinori said with a diplomatic tone. Izuku hated that he was the reason his father had to use such a tone, how he had to concede to this other pack alpha in his own village.

Thankfully, Shota didn’t take advantage. “I’ll make sure Tsunagu and his pack are settled, then.” And with that, he left.

Toshinori rose as well. “I’ll be in my dwelling if I am needed.” He gave no other dismissal, no other goodbye, and simply left without even glancing over his shoulder.

The weight of everyone’s attention shifted to Izuku, and he felt his shoulders tensing.

He was grateful when Hitoshi suddenly cleared his throat. Izuku hadn’t even noticed he was still there.

“Is there something you need from our pack?” He asked Izuku.

Izuku shot a glance toward Mirai, who remained silent and judging. “No. Not right now. Thank you.”

Hitoshi bowed his head. “Then we should all take our leave. Return to our duties, as such.”

There was a hesitant edge to everyone’s reaction. Hitoshi was not the head beta, was not even yet mated into the pack, but here he was slowly testing out the boundaries of where he stood. Izuku didn’t think anyone would have moved if Mirai didn’t first.

The head beta swept to his feet with a sigh. “We should see to the preparations. Enji?” He called the most troublesome of those still sitting in that room to him, and Enji reluctantly peeled himself up to follow Mirai out, Hitoshi watching the exchange carefully.

When Izuku stood as well, Hitoshi followed him out. At first, Izuku assumed he had something to say, but then realized that Hitoshi was following in his wake much as a head beta might, testing out where he stood, seeing if he fit the position well. Neither Shoto nor Katsuki seemed completely comfortable with his presence, and it only made the empty spot where a pack alpha might stand more apparent.

Izuku smiled to Hitoshi. “You don’t have to do that. Thank you, though.”

Hitoshi swept a glance over the area. A few pack members were trailing past, watching them curiously, but no one seemed overly concerned. Only Shoto and Katsuki felt the unbalanced position that Hitoshi’s presence left them.

“I wanted to show my support. You are the beloved aeon, after all. Even those from my pack respect you.”

“Thank you. And I’ll remember that.” Izuku felt suddenly exhausted by the posturing. He knew it was all part of Hitoshi’s transition, all part of what would happen over the next weeks and months. But Enji was right. It felt strange to be doing this dance when war was knocking at their borders, when their village was filled not in celebration of the mating but with warriors prepared to fight and die.

He glanced up, wishing it was later, darker. Wishing he could simply dismiss Hitoshi and Shoto and ask Katsuki with a nod to follow him. But not yet. Not quite yet.

“Your father is only worried, you know.” Hitoshi offered.

Izuku kept his smile in place. “I know.”

“He was wrong in how he did it. But Alpha and Jest have shown an interest in you and that can’t be ignored.”

“I know.” The exhaustion made his voice sharp and brittle as the flint knife Hitoshi had gifted him.

“I would like to have one of our pack act as a guard to you. If you will allow it.”

This was a surprise. Izuku blinked, not quite knowing how to reply, especially when Shoto bristled at his side. He held up a hand to keep the alpha from reacting too harshly, but Hitoshi had noticed.

“It would only be as a sign of our loyalty and my commitment. I want to make this work. As thanks for your efforts in helping me.”

“It was a bit selfish on my part too,” Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, not quite knowing how to handle this situation. “I know you would have been very kind to me as a mate, but I also knew neither one of us really wanted that.”

Hitoshi smiled. There was something soft and genuine in the expression, unguarded in a way Izuku rarely ever saw him. “I know. But that’s how I know it’s real. And I would have done my best. Just as I know you would have done your best. This way, we can actually do our best for the betterment of both our packs.”

Izuku nodded, unsure what to say. Luckily, Hitoshi was good at reading his mood. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll have the guard introduce themself to you tomorrow.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” He paused. “You should probably check with my father and Enji before you assign anyone. They might get prickly if they see one of your pack stalking me around the village.”

Hitoshi smirked. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He bowed his head to Izuku and stepped away, allowing Shoto and Katsuki to step closer and collapse the empty space at his side. Still, the void remained, and Izuku felt its cold tendrils raking along his spine.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Shoto asked.

Izuku shrugged. “It’s not like you to turn down extra protection for me.” He tried to make it a joke, but his heart wasn’t in it and Shoto only frowned.

“Tsunagu might want to add a guard to your group as well. To balance out any favoritism between the packs. And if Shinya or Yoroi see you with the extra guards, they might take it as a slight as well.”

“Well maybe I’m feeling slighted by their inability to send help for my pack.” Izuku snapped. He blinked, realizing what he’d said, and shook his head. “Sorry. Just. Tired.”

Shoto didn’t seem concerned. “You’re right. So maybe it doesn’t matter after all.”

Izuku nodded, thankful for the easy way out of the conversation. “Hitoshi said he’d talk with my father and Enji. They’ll know what to do about it. I’ll leave it to them.”

While Shoto seemed content with this explanation, Katsuki scoffed. “Extra guards are just going to draw more attention to yourself. If Alpha and Jest really want to hurt you, you’ll just be making it easier for them to find you.”

“Katsuki, I wear this same damn coat nearly every day and you stick out like a dying leaf, so maybe it doesn’t matter because I already don’t blend in.”

He hadn’t realized how close he’d stepped to Katsuki until he felt a breath of heat over his face, until he saw the gleam of teeth in his eyes, until Shoto was suddenly shoving himself between the two of them, hunched defensively.

If Katsuki noticed Shoto’s presence, he gave no indication. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m well aware I’m like a dying leaf. You got something you want to say to me about not belonging, then just say it. You don’t need to hide behind pretty words to make your point.”

“Apparently not because you didn’t even get the point I was trying to make!” Izuku snapped, then yelped as something was shoved into his arms.

“There you go, boy!” Torino’s voice was thin and wavering, his eyes squinted blindly. “You left this in my dwelling. Didn’t want you to lose it! You have a nice day, now.”

His interruption done, Torino limped away, humming to himself.

Izuku glared after him, again feeling like a pup but not in a way that was warm or cozy. This had been a reprimand and, maybe to Katsuki’s point, he would have rather the old beta just yelled at him instead of this.

The exchange had knocked both Shoto and Katsuki out of their posturing, both of them blinking at the sack in Izuku’s arms.

“What’s that supposed to be?” Katsuki growled.

Izuku untied the string to check what was inside, though he already knew. “Rock eagle feathers. For my coat.” He gestured to the frayed edges, and didn’t quite look away fast enough to miss the terrible realization strike Shoto.

“We haven’t had warriors sent out to collect more.” It was half a question, half a confession.

Izuku retired the sack. “These are extras Torino keeps. For situations like these, I suppose.”

He yelped again when Shoto suddenly dropped to his knee and bowed to him. “I’m sorry. I should have gone out earlier. Or brought some back with me when I left last week.”

“It’s fine. We have other priorities.” Izuku wanted to grab him and haul him to his feet. Mostly because he didn’t want Shoto to feel guilt over something so small and insignificant. But also because Katsuki was watching the exchange very closely, his eyes narrowed. Izuku knew that look all too well. “Besides. Like I said, that’s what these extras are for. And I’m sure you did collect some of them yourself. You always bring too many back.”

Shoto still looked somewhat dazed. Before Izuku could find a way to comfort him, Katsuki spoke up, “What’s so important about some feathers?”

Shoto’s head snapped up and Izuku tried to talk over him, but it was too late. “It’s a sacred rite of passage. An integral part of being a warrior of this pack.” He sounded insulted, but Izuku knew it was just because Katsuki was an easy target to redirect his guilt onto.

To his credit, Katsuki didn’t snap at Shoto’s tone. “What sort of rite of passage?” This time, he looked directly at Izuku.

There was no way out. Either Izuku told him or Katsuki would ask someone else, and they might not use the right words. They might not say things in a way that kept Katsuki from doing something stupid. Even Izuku wasn’t sure if he could find the words to keep Katsuki from acting recklessly.

Still, he tried. “It’s symbolic mostly. And a way for warriors to prove their mettle. At the end of their training, they are sent to collect rock eagle feathers from the abandoned nests on the ridge. Those feathers are then gifted to the aeon and stitched into a coat.” Izuku lifted the edge of his cloak, but Katsuki’s eyes were still snagged on him. Aware, somehow, that Izuku hadn’t told him everything.

“It’s not just symbolic,” Shoto snapped. “Those feathers protect you. And your coat’s getting too frayed to keep you safe.”

“I’m fine, Shoto. Besides. That’s what these are for.” He lifted the sack up again, halfway thankful for the excuse not to meet Katsuki’s scrutinizing glare.

Shoto’s nostrils flared, but he finally relented. “Make sure to give them to the tailors today.”

“I’ll go right now.” Izuku replied evenly. Even though all he really wanted to do was curl up somewhere and take a nap.

Shoto replied by shucking off his own jacket, which was sewn with flexible leather for added protection, and tossed it over Izuku’s head. “Wear this until your coat is done. I should go make sure my father hasn’t strangled Mirai.”

Izuku wrestled with the jacket as Shoto walked away. He carefully paid no attention to Katsuki, although he was very well aware of Katsuki paying too much attention to him. The pressure of his gaze itched at Izuku’s back until he simply couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“What?” He snapped. He hated feeling so on edge. But Katsuki’s glare needled him in ways almost no one else did. He couldn’t stand the silent judgment in those red and gray eyes.

Katsuki snorted. “Just symbolic, huh? What’s so special about these feathers then?” He reached for the sack but Izuku pulled back.

“Rock eagles are some of the most vicious hunters on the ridge. They’re huge and aggressive and hard to kill. Their feathers, when woven together correctly, are soft as down but strong enough to deflect a blade. Lots of people have been killed by rock eagles over the years. Including some of our warriors.” Izuku ran a hand through his coat. It was soft to the touch, but he couldn’t push his fingers through the woven barbs. “It’s symbolic for a warrior to present their feathers to the aeon. As a promise to always protect them. Usually, it’s the last thing a warrior must do to be welcomed within our pack’s warrior ranks and to be recognized as such by everyone else.”

Katsuki snorted again. “And you were going to mention this little ritual when?”

“We had other things to worry about, Katsuki.” Izuku said pointedly. He started toward the tailors, half annoyed when Katsuki trailed behind him. “I just didn’t think about it. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”

“So all I gotta do is collect a few feathers?” Katsuki said.

Izuku felt his heart sinking. “No. You don’t have to do anything, Katsuki. I think you’ve already proven yourself. Besides. It’s just symbolic.”

“Symbolic as your title, aeon?”

Izuku came up short and Katsuki stepped in front of him. There was a dangerous gleam to his eyes that Izuku didn’t care for, and he felt his lip twitching toward a silent snarl in reply. Katsuki watched his lips with that narrowed glare.

“Lot of what your pack does is symbolic, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t really matter right now.”

“If it didn’t matter, I don’t think Shoto would have just about lost his lunch when you mentioned the feathers.”

“It’s fine. Torino had extra feathers, like I said.”

“If it was fine, I don’t think you’d be so worked up about it either.”

“Katsuki,” Izuku shut his eyes. He took a deep breath and when he opened them again, Katsuki’s expression had softened around the edges. “Not right now. Please.”

For a moment, he didn’t think the alpha was going to listen to him. Then, he dipped his head. “This conversation isn’t over. But fine.” He took the bag from Izuku’s hands, throwing it over his shoulder. “Let’s get this taken care of.” Then he nodded for Izuku to lead the way.

- - -

The master tailor, an elderly beta named Dai who had been injured while hunting and had a strong limp because of it, took one look at Izuku’s frayed coat and threw his hands up in the air.

“Why didn’t you bring this to our attention before, aeon?” He demanded.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t notice.” Which was true, though Izuku didn’t mention the second part, which was that it wasn’t that important.

Dai made a distressed noise deep in his chest as he ran his fingers over the split barbs. “Not to worry. We’ll have this fixed up in no time.”

With his coat given over to the tailors, Izuku slipped on Shoto’s coat. He knew people would stare, knowing where that coat came from, but he didn’t care. It smelled like Shoto and was slightly baggier in the shoulders in a way that slumped comfortably over his arms. He snuggled contentedly into it, and when he noticed Katsuki glowering he couldn’t help but feel a bit smug.

By then, evidence of a second pack’s presence was everywhere. Yes, Tsunagu and his pack had retreated into the dining hall to rest, but Izuku could see the added pressure of so many newcomers to the village; the added stacks of food being shifted around, extra clothes, water, and blankets. Just like his coat, when Izuku really looked closely, he could start to see the edges of the village fraying under the pressure of so many people. Their pack was among the largest, beside Tsunagu’s, of the territory, but even it was starting to swell against its boundaries.

In a way, it was perhaps lucky that neither Shinya nor Yoroi had sent their warriors. Izuku didn’t think they would be able to accommodate them. As it was, he was starting to feel a prickle of anxiety in ensuring so many people were taken care of.

His anxiety eased slightly when he saw Mirai out and about, speaking to those organizing the food and clothing and other supplies. If anyone could keep things running smoothly, it would be Mirai. Somehow, he’d make things work.

Next to Mirai, he also saw Enji and Tenna out and about, organizing warriors and hunters and messengers. The pack, while strained, was still functioning, and it was these pillars that kept everything upright.

Not for the first time, Izuku remembered his place within that hierarchy, how important his position was. And he realized that now might be the worst time to have his coat repaired. Perhaps the pack needed to see that symbolic quilt of their commitment and bonds draped over the shoulders of their aeon now more than ever. Or maybe they needed to see that coat restored to its former glory. Maybe this was the exact right time to get it repaired.

Torino had been the head beta before Mirai. Maybe he was doing his own machinations behind the scenes, picking up the pieces that Mirai either failed to do so or would have been less effective in getting done. Izuku imagined the conversation between him and Mirai about the state of his coat would have gone quite differently than it had between him and Torino. But he also knew, quite suddenly, that Mirai had been all too aware of its fraying edges.

Just before leaving the tailors, Dai called Katsuki back. “Come help me with something, young man,” he said.

Katsuki glanced to Izuku, who shrugged and let him go. It was good to see people calling on Katsuki to help them, integrating him into the normal life of the pack. And it was good to see Katsuki answer those calls, turning back to the tailor without any fuss. Izuku considered lingering to ensure everything went smoothly, but eventually decided that his hovering wouldn’t help. Katsuki could figure out how to navigate these sorts of situations on his own; he would need to, in fact, if he intended to stay. So Izuku let him go, left him in the care of the tailors to go out and do his part in keeping the pack running smoothly.

He settled near the center of the village and soon several others crowded around him, asking him if he was well, asking him for help or advice, or otherwise just being near to him and relaxing in his presence. When he thought about it, it had been a while since he’d done this, just settled somewhere and let the pack relax with him. It was a small piece of normalcy he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

It wasn’t much longer before Katsuki appeared again. He surveyed the crowd around Izuku before finding a small patch of sunlight nearby and laying out under it. His eyes closed and he dozed like that, the pack moving around him, a couple of the pups settling nearby to play. Izuku felt such relief in seeing the pups comfortable around him.

Slowly, the day slipped away and then it was nighttime. Before going to meet with the other packs in the dining hall, Dai called both Izuku and Katsuki back.

“We all pitched in to make sure it was ready for tonight. Since we have guests to impress,” Dai said with a bit of pride to his voice. “But there was one detail we needed to see to.” And with this, he turned to Katsuki.

Katsuki shifted from foot to foot, and Izuku couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen the alpha this self-conscious before. “I didn’t know what was so special about your coat. The beads on them,” he clarified when Izuku tilted his head in a silent question.

Realization struck him and he felt his eyes widening as Dai came forward with a small wooden box, which he first presented to Katsuki. Katsuki took it and peered inside, and something caught in his face. Something deep and wanting and painful in wonderfully terrible ways.

Without pretense, he handed the box over to Izuku. “Apparently you have to approve it,” he said simply.

And yes, usually he did. Izuku had attended the after-birth celebrations of so many so the newborn pup’s bead could be added to the tapestry sewn into the back of his coat. The quilt knitting all of their lives together. Usually the parents designed the beads, framing them off of their own more times than not. And he had occasionally joined a mating ceremony to add a new bead in the form of the newly mated partner to his coat, almost always a mirror to another bead already long sewn into place.

Katsuki’s bead was simple. Half red, half gray, with a stripe of black between them. When Izuku took the bead out and rolled it in his hand, he saw that a small flower had been etched into the clay, thin petals curled outward.

Izuku smiled. “It’s wonderful, Katsuki.”

This time, Katsuki didn’t seem quite so flustered. “Another symbol you didn’t think to mention.”

“Well. To be fair I’ve only ever done this with day-old pups and at mating ceremonies,” Izuku laughed. He was glad to see Katsuki return his smile, tentative and almost shy. It was sweet to see him look both uncertain and settled in a way he’d never looked before.

How much had changed in a single day. Izuku could still feel the frustration of their earlier conversation, of all that had transpired, and he clutched the bead tight to his chest.

“I’m sorry. About what I said.”

Katsuki eyed him flatly. “I’m not.”

At first, Izuku waited, convinced there must be more. But Katsuki just stared at him, completely serious, and Izuku felt a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“Suppose I can’t be upset with you for that.”

“Of course you can’t,” Katsuki snapped in reply, but his lip was half curled in a smirk and his eyes were soft and long.

Izuku turned to Dai. “Go ahead and add it, please.”

It took only a few minutes, a few tugs of threads, the careful setting of the beads against one another, then a deft knot and Katsuki’s bead fit right into place.

“There we are.” Dai held up the coat and gave it a long, scrutinizing stare before he offered it to Izuku. “Shula?”

Izuku shifted out of Shoto’s jacket and handed it to Katsuki before slipping on his coat again. It fell into place, the newly woven feathers bristling around him. They were so soft, cloudlike, and for a second he closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the beads against his back like a hand running along his spine. When he opened his eyes, Katsuki was watching him, something guarded in his expression. He was happy, Izuku could tell, in that melancholy way of his.

“You look good,” the alpha said simply.

Dai scoffed as if offended. “It looks magnificent. Best work we’ve ever done!”

Of course, Katsuki hadn’t been just talking about the coat. Izuku smiled back at him. “Join me for supper?”

Katsuki bowed his head. “Always.”

Chapter Text

When Izuku strode through the dining hall with his new coat, Katsuki somehow thought everyone would turn to openly stare. And they did, to be fair, but no more than usual. No one noticed the added bead to his coat, but they did seem to notice the added levity to their aeon’s steps, the brightness of his smile. And that was worth more than anything else, he knew. When they joined the head table, crowded now with Shota, Hitoshi, and Tsunagu in attendance, everyone looked to Izuku as he smiled, and for once everything felt right.

There was still tension. Katsuki felt it every time Tsunagu and Shota looked at one another, or at Toshinori for that matter. Theirs was an alliance of convenience and necessity. They were friendly. But only just. What Shota had said earlier rung in Katsuki’s ears. A beacon for fools. And all of them gathered at that table were fools for being drawn in.

But then, their gazes would slip to Izuku, who laughed and smiled through the meal, and the tension eased. Enough that no petty barbs were shot. Enough that no one glared for too long. Enough that the meal was pleasant overall and Katsuki could ignore the underlying sense of unease that sometimes rippled through the crowd.

Behind them, the packs were squished between the walls. The hall wasn’t large enough to comfortably accommodate everyone, but there was a silent agreement between them all to ignore this fact. Instead, groups of warriors had taken their food outside, ostensibly to keep an eye on things but truthfully to let the others have a little breathing room. But for the night, they could pretend everything was fine.

As he sat there, Katsuki knew this could not last. They needed to find and stop Alpha sooner rather than later.

Then Izuku leaned toward him and asked him whether he could swim or not and the spark in his eyes was slightly mischievous in a thrilling sort of way, and Katsuki forgot all about the cramped hall.

By the time he thought to consider it again, when he looked out over the hall, many people had finished their meal and left, pockets of space appearing between the different groups and giving the illusion that all was well after all.

Shota and Hitoshi left first, excusing themselves with polite words and acknowledging again Tsunagu’s generosity in coming to their aid. Tsunagu reciprocated appropriately and they left without any further tension. Soon after, Tsunagu said he had one last matter of importance he wished to speak to Toshinori about, privately, and the last two pack alphas left the table.

Izuku waited a beat longer, then leaned over to his mother and nuzzled against her cheek. “I’m going to bed a bit early. If that’s okay.” He searched her for approval.

Inko smiled and pressed her palm over his hand. “Take care of yourself, Izuku. Rest well.”

Izuku stood and nodded for Katsuki to follow him. It was no different from the nod that he often gave Katsuki nowadays, an indication that he was welcome to follow and keep guard if he liked. The same he gave to Shoto.

But Katsuki felt his stomach twisting into knots as he stood to follow Izuku this time.

Izuku took a circuitous route through the village, almost to the point that Katsuki wondered if he actually planned on going to bed at all. But as Izuku stopped every other step or so to speak with someone or another, he realized that the aeon was ensuring everyone else was taken care of. That he could rest comfortably and for a long while without anyone coming to interrupt.

And for the first time, he started feeling a bit of apprehension next to his excitement. Just what would the omega ask of him? What was singing in Izuku’s body that compelled him to so definitely secure the wellbeing of everyone else before whatever was coming that night?

Their previous encounter had been fleeting and impulsive. You look warm, Izuku had said, and Katsuki had wanted to say, Not warm enough, but instead he’d just pulled the omega as close as he dared. And Izuku had crossed over the remaining distance between them.

This was different. This was calculated. Expecting. Katsuki felt his shoulders rising, not knowing what would come next.

Finally, they reached his dwelling. A sturdy but inconspicuous thing. Katsuki had liked the look of it when he’d first seen it, but now he felt frightened by how it and everything inside of it loomed in front of him.

Izuku untied the canvas flap and glanced to him. “You can come in,” he said, then a little more hesitantly, “if you’d like.”

Katsuki stepped forward. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Izuku swept inside first and Katsuki followed, fumbling with the ties to the entrance before simply letting it hang for a moment. Until he knew what Izuku wanted, he felt too jittery to be of much use. Instead, he watched the omega with the same care he had watched over the plains of his home, searching, searching.

Izuku frowned at him. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Katsuki swallowed. He hadn’t noticed how much his mouth had been watering. “I want to be here. If you want me here.”

“Well then. Please come in.” Izuku offered his hand.

Katsuki took it without thinking, without fear. Their palms pressed against each other, fingers sliding over skin. Was the omega warm to the touch, or was that Katsuki? He tried not to think about it too much, but found himself thinking only of the warmth of Izuku’s skin, the weight of his hand. When Izuku pulled him forward, he followed, and when Izuku sat at the low table, Katsuki sat across from him. And when their hands parted, he knew he was colder for it.

“So,” Izuku cleared his throat, “um. Thanks. For coming here, I mean. And uh. Yeah.”

Katsuki frowned, waiting. What exactly did Izuku want?

For a long, painful second, Izuku only stared back. Then he startled, seeming to realize Katsuki was waiting for him to speak, and fumbled with a small cutout in the center of the table. “Um. Here! Do you like incense? It helps calm me down.”

Katsuki watched, see how much Izuku’s hands were shaking. He drew an incense stick from a bag along with a knife and a bit of flint, but his hand was shaking so much that he hesitated, uncertain. Katsuki carefully took the knife and flint from him. Taking a breath, Izuku held the incense while Katsuki struck it, the tip catching and a thin whisp of smoke trailing up between them.

It was something spicy, slightly sweet. He’d smelled something of the like in Kaya’s dwelling, though he couldn’t name it off the top of his head. Either way, when Izuku took a deep breath, the tension melted off the omega’s shoulders and he set the incense stick in a small clay pot to diffuse the scent.

“Thank you.”

Katsuki nodded. “So. What did you want from me?”

Almost immediately, the tension returned. “Oh. Um. Well. I, uh… it’s more a question, I guess?”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow in silent reply.

Izuku fidgeted, hands twisting in his lap. “You see. I, um. Well. I wanted to ask you something. But. You don’t have to… I mean it doesn’t actually mean anything. This question. I just… well—”

“Izuku.”

The omega swallowed. “Yes?”

“You can tell me anything. Ask me.” He kept his voice steady, hoping to impart a bit of strength to Izuku. Even while his own hands trembled just under the table.

Luckily, Izuku only nodded, once, sharp, and took another breath. He swallowed again, and said, “I’m just going to say it. I’d like to know how alphas in your pack treat their omegas.”

The words made sense, even put together in that order they made sense, but something about them, Katsuki didn’t quite understand.

When he was quiet for too long, Izuku started fidgeting again. “It’s just… well, you see.” He stopped fidgeting, and his tension melted into something much worse. His shoulders slumped, his body sagged in exhaustion. Defeat didn’t fit his frame, but it still clung to him, dragging him down. Katsuki felt his lips flinch, wanting to snarl that look away. But he kept quiet as Izuku closed his eyes.

“I’m the aeon. Beloved and treasured. But… because I’m the aeon and the son of the pack alpha, I get treated special. Different. I see how other alphas in the pack treat their omegas. And I… I don’t know. I don’t think I’d like it. At least not all the time. But for once, I’d like to know what it would feel like. To just. You know. Be an omega to an alpha.” He cheated a glance toward Katsuki out the corner of his eye. “Do you… get what I mean?”

And oh.

Katsuki felt his eyes widen, just a little. “You’ve… never been entreated before?”

Again, Izuku fidgeted. “Uh, well. I’m not sure what you mean by that. But I don’t really get to do normal omega things. Too busy being the aeon instead. And the Alpha’s son.” He cleared his throat. “So. Um. Like I said, I was just thinking it would be nice. To know how your pack treats omegas differently. Because you know. Maybe it would help me understand. Or, um—”

Katsuki leaned across the table. Izuku startled silent, shut his eyes tight as Katsuki reached for him.

Katsuki pressed his palm to Izuku’s forehead, held it there until Izuku carefully opened one eye, until the tension bled from his brow.

How long had Izuku lived with this burden? All his life, it seemed. Never knowing what it means to be cared for as an individual. Only as the aeon. And how lonely that must have been.

“Shoto really never sat you down and let you act as omega for the day?” Katsuki asked.

Izuku blinked. “N-no. It’s not… well that’s not something he would do anyway. But especially not with me.”

Katsuki took his hand away and stood. Izuku stiffened, and it hurt to see him so uncertain. To have asked for something so simple and yet be so frightened by it.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Katsuki said, and ducked out the entrance.

He had never cared for an omega. But he’d watched others do it. And Izuku was asking him to take care of him. He couldn’t let Izuku down. So he paused just outside the dwelling, considering everything he’d need, before hurrying onward.

- - -

Izuku waited, and waited. And after a time, he accepted that Katsuki had simply run away. Maybe overwhelmed by the request he’d made. It was a bit surprising that Katsuki had run from him, but Izuku couldn’t blame him. His request had been odd and probably inappropriate. But when Katsuki had told him he’d do anything Izuku wanted, he’d hoped, just for a moment, that he’d meant it.

Still, Izuku wouldn’t be bitter about it. He understood. He really did. He had always understood that he was different. Special. That he would always be in a position singular to himself, and that was simply his lot in life.

Even telling himself all of this, he found his throat closing up gently, so he didn’t notice until he tried to swallow and nearly choked.

Very suddenly, he was desperately lonely. More than anything else, he didn’t want to be in that dwelling by himself. But even the thought of crawling outside, of running to someone with rejection heavy in his eyes, he couldn’t face it. He didn’t want anyone to pity him.

But he also didn’t want to be alone.

He’d just resolved to sneak into his parents’ dwelling, maybe hoping his mother would bundle him up in her arms without asking too many questions, when a rock rolled outside his dwelling.

“It’s me. I’m coming in.” Katsuki swept the leather covering aside and stood in the opening, half leaned in. His pupils dilated immediately, slits that locked and followed Izuku’s hand as he quickly went to rub at his eyes, knowing it was too late.

The alpha stepped inside, revealing his arms heavy with a bag, which he sat next to the table and crouched in front of Izuku. His hands came up, swept Izuku’s aside and tilted his chin up to inspect his face.

“What happened?” There was a discontented growl to Katsuki’s voice.

“N-nothing. Nothing.” Izuku said hurriedly.

“Was it Jest? Was he here?” Katsuki’s nostrils flared, searching for the scent of an intruder.

“No, no.” Izuku pulled his hands back, turning his face away. He pawed at his face, angry with himself for letting his emotions get out of hand. “I’m… it’s nothing. I just thought—”

“Thought what?” Katsuki pressed, but Izuku couldn’t make himself say it.

When he refused to speak more, Katsuki sat back on his heels. “Do you still want to do this?”

Izuku nodded. “Yes, please.”

“All right.” Katsuki stood, glanced around the dwelling. Izuku could tell he was tempted to search through it, as if he wasn’t convinced there wasn’t a rogue beta hiding in his wardrobe. “Get comfortable. Just one more thing I need to grab.” He paused again before stepping out and leaving Izuku alone.

Embarrassment quickly crowded away the loneliness, then shame at his behavior. He’d been so overwhelmed by just being alone that Katsuki had thought he’d been attacked. Ridiculous. He was supposed to be strong. The pack needed him to be strong.

Izuku closed his eyes and held his breath, willing that welling dread within him to drown deeper in his gut. He couldn’t afford to let that happen again.

By the time Katsuki returned, this time with a wide-rimmed bowl of water which he played in the corner of the room, Izuku had changed out of his coat and robes and slipped into a simple nightshirt that hung over his knees and a long fur-lined jacket that swept down to his ankles.

Katsuki appraised his outfit silently, but seemed pleased by what he saw. Izuku didn’t quite know how to take that, but he said nothing as the alpha set the bowl aside.

“Can you get that? I don’t know how to tie it correctly.” Katsuki nodded toward the entrance, sounding slightly put off.

Something about the hint of embarrassment in his voice settled nicely with Izuku’s own embarrassment, and he went to do as Katsuki had asked. As he did, Katsuki sat at the table and started pulling things out of the first bag he’d brought with him. Herbs, Izuku realized, and spices. He sat across from Katsuki, surprised when the alpha set a large pink fruit in front of him.

“Here. Pull some of the seeds out of this. Need probably,” he paused, clearly calculating, “maybe two dozen or so.”

“All right.” Izuku picked up the fruit. Its rubbery skin resisted his nails, so he found a knife to use instead. He didn’t recognize the fruit, beyond it coming from Kaya’s garden, along with everything else Katsuki was setting up at the table. When he smelled it, it gave off a slightly sour scent, not unpleasant.

Katsuki paused in organizing the herbs to reach for the incense stick, cupping his hand around it and letting sparks shoot off his palm to reheat the end. The ember tip flared between them, a single spark hovering.

Izuku watched the flame, watched how much care Katsuki took in ordering the herbs in front of him. He kept bringing the bundles to his nose, testing them again and again.

“What are you doing?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki glanced at him, then away. “Trying to make tea.”

Izuku glanced at the herbs. “We have different teas you can use already.”

“This is different.” Katsuki sniffed a bundle of dried mint and set it aside. “Just let me handle it. I’m the alpha here, remember?” He cut a glare toward Izuku that was equal challenge and question: did he really want to continue with this?

Izuku answered by digging his knife into the fruit. It split with a sucking sound, juice spilling over his hands with surprising speed. A rag appeared under his hands before he could even think to look for one, and Katsuki went on as if nothing had happened.

The fruit cut cleanly after that, revealing an inside speckled with red seeds and squishy white flesh that clung stubbornly to each. While Izuku tried to clean the seeds off at first, Katsuki told him to leave the flesh on the seeds, so he did just that, creating a little mound of red and white on a separate clean rag.

Meanwhile, Katsuki was plucking and crushing dried leaves into a bowl, pausing every now and then to smell them, his face pinched in concentration. Izuku couldn’t tell if he had ever done something like this before, but it was oddly comfortable watching the alpha work.

They said nothing, but it was cozy being there with Katsuki, working silently beside him. Domestic, he might have said, though Izuku wasn’t even sure what that meant.

Finally, Katsuki looked up. “Kettle?”

Izuku fished out an old iron kettle and gave it over to Katsuki. The alpha poured the water into the kettle and went over to the small firepit, lighting a fire just large enough to set the kettle within. It threw oddly shaped shadows across the dwelling, but still Izuku found he didn’t mind. They played well across Katsuki’s face as he continued his work gathering all the herbs and spices and the seeds together.

“At night, we used to sit and drink cider together. This won’t be quite the same. But maybe it’ll be close.” Katsuki’s voice took on a low, quiet drone. Similar to the storytellers who sat at the fire with pups at their knees, whispering of far off places and legends from the forest. “My dad used to sing while we drank. That ain’t going to happen here. But that’s what he used to do.”

“I see.” Izuku twisted his hands. “Um. In our pack, partners usually scent one another just before bed. It’s, uh, a comforting… thing….” He trailed off at the long look Katsuki gave him.

After a moment, the alpha tilted his head. “Am I the alpha here or are you?”

Izuku felt his cheeks reddening, frustration and indignation building, until Katsuki smirked. “We used to do something similar, too. Old family tradition. Guess there’s some traditions that cross over even our packs.”

“I guess so.” Izuku felt himself deflating, realizing Katsuki was teasing him. “Sorry. I only know what omegas and alphas do here.”

“Do alphas treat their omegas well in your pack?” Katsuki asked.

It seemed a strange question. “Of course they do.”

“Do they treat omegas like they’re the moon hanging overhead? Like they’re the water that flows from the wells and the seeds that grow food for everyone to eat?”

Something in the way Katsuki spoke made Izuku pause for a long moment. In the flickering shadows, his expression was difficult to read, but Izuku swore there was something grieving in the way his eyes were narrowed.

“In a way. I suppose. Mostly omegas are just treated like people though. Not moons or rivers or seeds.”

Katsuki laughed. “Is that what you would like, omega?”

For once, Izuku didn’t bristle. The name washed over him, omega, and it felt oddly wonderful to have such a mundane name given to him.

“I think I’d just like to be treated normally for once,” he muttered.

Katsuki nodded. “How’s it going so far?”

Izuku glanced away, smiling. “It’s going well. What did you mean by entreated earlier, by the way?”

“You entreat an omega. Treat them beyond what you would treat others. It’s a precursor to courting, usually.”

“Oh.” Izuku paused. “I. Um. Don’t want you to feel like you have that much pressure on you.”

Katsuki smirked. “It’s also just how you’re supposed to treat your friend omegas. You do a lot for the pack. All of you do. So we always made sure to respect that.”

“I see. Well, that’s very good of your pack.”

“It was a lot of pressure, as you said,” Katsuki added, and Izuku’s stomach tightened. He opened his mouth to tell Katsuki not to do that, but the alpha cocked his head toward the omega. “But it’s different with you. Feels good to take care of you. Helps that you’re not particularly demanding, I suppose.”

“I could be demanding,” Izuku muttered, suddenly grumpy. He didn’t want Katsuki to think he was just a pushover.

By the toothed grin Katsuki gave him, clearly he didn’t think that was the case. “Trust me, it wasn’t a request. You asked me to treat you like any other omega. Well that means you get to help me make the tea too, then.”

As if in reply to what Katsuki had said, the kettle whistled and the alpha nodded toward it. Izuku pulled it off the fire and went to set it aside, but Katsuki motioned him to bring it over. He filled a teapot with his mixture and Izuku poured water in. While Katsuki set the teapot aside to steep, Izuku tended the fire, letting it simmer toward a contented smolder. The night would be cool, but not particularly cold, and he kept that in mind while he worked.

“Here.” Katsuki handed him half of the pink fruit. “Had one of these before?”

“I don’t think so.” Izuku poked at the seedy insides.

“Try some.”

Izuku did so, popping one in his mouth. It burst with juice, sweet and slightly sour. “It’s good!”

Something toward a smile lifted Katsuki’s lips. “They used to be a treat. When I was a young pup, our leader would give us a few seeds if we’d done well for the pack.” His smile slipped. “The only grove drowned a few years ago. Haven’t even seen one until Kaya’s garden.”

Izuku shuffled the seeds in his palm, then popped another in his mouth. “Wonder if that means her mate visited your pack?”

Katsuki tossed several seeds in his mouth, probably so he wouldn’t have to answer. Taking the hint, Izuku dug a few more seeds out and held out his hand. “Here.”

Katsuki paused, confused, until Izuku took his arm and opened his palm, placing the seeds within. “Sharing is something alphas and omegas do, right?”

“Sure.” Katsuki tilted his palm, looking at the glistening seeds, before throwing them into his mouth. They crunched between his teeth as he dug out several from his half and offered them back to Izuku. “Here.”

Izuku took them, ate them all at once as Katsuki had. “Mm!” He pressed his palm to his mouth, finding his skin sticky with juice. “Yours is more sour.”

“Cuz I know how to pick the best ones.” Katsuki grinned around a mouth of seeds.

Izuku couldn’t help but laugh a little.

Once their fruit was eaten, Katsuki checked the tea while Izuku set out cups and saucers. The tea Katsuki poured was light in color, almost pink but not quite. The aroma was sweet and spicy, and Izuku’s mouth water immediately.

“Careful. Still hot.” Katsuki handed him a cup.

Izuku stared at the steaming cup. “There isn’t ginger in this, is there? I don’t have to swallow it in one go?”

Katsuki grinned. “Do you want to add ginger?”

“Not if I have to drink it like you did that one time.”

The alpha just laughed. “We only used it for celebrations. Mix was different. But I’d say there’s something to celebrate in having your first night being treated as a normal omega.”

“Sure.” Izuku frowned, suddenly conscious of the fact Katsuki was doing this all for him because he’d asked. He wondered if it would have been different, had Katsuki simply just done all of this as he normally would, and he knew nothing about this was normal. No other omega had to ask to be treated normally. Only him.

“Hey.” There was a scowl dipping at the corner of Katsuki’s mouth. “What are you thinking about?”

Izuku shook his head, trying to smile, knowing from the tilt of Katsuki’s lips that he knew it was forced. “Nothing. Just that this isn’t what I was expecting.”

“You not happy, omega?” There was a strange edge to Katsuki’s voice. Not quite disappointment, but maybe… unease? No, that wasn’t it either.

“No, I’m very happy. Thank you for doing this for me.” Izuku drank the tea. It was an odd blend of sweet, sour, and spicy. It warmed his lips, his tongue, down his throat. Soothed in a way he wasn’t used to. And he had to admit, it was nice. “This is very good. Thank you, Katsuki.”

Even with the praise for his tea, Katsuki didn’t look pleased. He leaned back on his palms as if to examine Izuku from a different angle. “Tell me something.” It was a demand, not a question.

“Yes?” Izuku decided to treat it as a question for the time being.

“Did you really want me to treat you like an omega? Like… my omega?” He paused as Izuku sat there, startled. “Because it’s different, taking care of an omega friend and a… closer omega.” He was skipping over the word mate, Izuku knew. Maybe because Izuku had told him off for using that word before. Maybe because he was struggling with the idea of it.

But the idea seized hold in Izuku’s mind. Most of the alphas he had known had treated him as lesser, smaller, something fragile to be bundled up and protected. It had always come from a good place, but it had always made Izuku’s skin prickle. He’d never gotten along with courting alphas, mostly because of how they had tried to treat him.

But with Katsuki? What would it be like? To be courted by someone like him? Someone who saw him as strong and reliable, rather than weak and reliant?

Even thinking of it made Izuku’s guts clench. He ignored this and cleared his throat, hoping to keep steady as he spoke. “What would be the difference?”

Katsuki drank his tea, slow, without ever once letting his eyes trail from Izuku. “You want me to show you?”

This was it. His choice. What did he really want?

Izuku’s hand tightened around his cup. “Yes,” he breathed, and Katsuki set his tea aside.

He stood and came around next to Izuku, sitting at his side. Izuku tensed immediately, unsure what to do, if he was supposed to do anything, and Katsuki grinned.

“Easy, omega. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Of course he wouldn’t. But the thought of whatever else he might do made Izuku’s skin warm.

Katsuki’s hand pressed over his wrist, guided his hand to the table, where he let go of his tea. His fingers were shivery from holding on so tightly, and Katsuki ran his hands over his palm, his knuckles, smoothing away the tremors.

He worked methodically, slowly, inching his way up Izuku’s hand, wrist, into his arm. As he did, Izuku felt himself easing, slipping into the moment, letting his body sag toward the alpha. His touch was firm, thumbs circling up the length of his arm. Izuku swore he felt something under his skin shifting, a moment of discomfort kneaded away into contented warmth.

When he was done with Izuku’s right arm, Katsuki sat it in the omega’s lap and picked up his left one, working just as slowly, carefully.

Izuku sighed, and found he wasn’t embarrassed to let himself relax under the alpha’s ministrations. “You’re good at this,” he said without thinking.

Katsuki didn’t look up from his work. “My mother taught me. She used to do it for my dad almost every night. His wrists went bad if he worked too hard, and he always worked too hard.”

“Was your dad an omega?”

“No. Beta. Mother was too. But I swear she was just as fiery as any alpha you’ve ever met.” Katsuki turned Izuku’s arm over, examining a small bruise near his elbow. “Never really thought it mattered. Because of them. Since they were both betas but Mom was so much an alpha and Dad was so much an omega, always thought it didn’t really mean anything. And maybe it does, but only in ways that we make it mean something.”

Izuku didn’t quite know what to say to this, but he let himself wonder over it. How Katsuki had grown up with betas parents who apparently didn’t act much like it. And how his pack had been led by an omega. And how his own pack hadn’t always been led by an alpha.

His world, stuck as he was in that village, was slowly morphing around him, expanding in ways he’d never imagined possible. And he didn’t quite know what to do with this knowledge.

Katsuki paused in his work. “Hey. Relax. Otherwise I’m going to have to start all over again.”

“I don’t think that would be that bad,” Izuku teased, but he took a breath and tried to let his thoughts go.

“If I have to start over here again and again, I’ll never get much farther than your elbows,” Katsuki grumbled. He ran his thumb along the length of Izuku’s forearm, pressing hard enough for his skin to ripple. Izuku shivered in delight at the feeling. He’d never imagined his forearms could feel so much pleasure. But maybe that was only because Katsuki was the one touching him.

“Would you tell me more about your parents?” He asked without thinking.

He half expected Katsuki to stop, to pale and go distant as he usually did when thinking of his past. Instead, he tilted his head thoughtfully.

“My parents believed in soulmates.”

It wasn’t what Izuku was expecting. Not at all. But he listened closely as Katsuki spoke.

“Always thought they were dumb when they insisted that they were soulmates. That I was the perfect union child they had always wanted. Especially when I drove my mother so crazy. But they always insisted that I was exactly what they had always wanted, and that our family had been brought together by the strength of our soul bonds. That we were always meant to be together.” His voice faded as he spoke, and then he was distant, his touch slowing, stopping, until he was simply holding Izuku’s arm, caught in a wave of sorrow.

Izuku considered him, trying to picture this family of his. His parents next to him, his mother red-faced from yelling, his father exasperated, Katsuki between them pouting like a pup. And yet, they were still so happy.

It was actually nice, in a funny sort of way. To know that even if his parents sometimes grew frustrated with him, Katsuki had always been loved. Izuku could see it in him, now that he thought about it. The bold way he took on the world, unafraid of what anyone would think or say. He must have gotten it from his parents. How, even when they disapproved, they would always love him. No matter what.

He hummed quietly. “I don’t know if I believe in soulmates. Sounds a little sad, honestly.”

Katsuki refocused, his eyes dilating in interest. His hands resumed their careful massaging. “Sad how? My parents were disgustingly happy.”

“Sure. And I’m very happy for them. But think about everyone else. If soulmates were real, think of how many people never get to meet their soulmate. Do they just have to settle then? Or stay alone for their life?”

“This coming from the person who was willing to throw himself at whoever just to keep his pack safe. You didn’t really seem concerned with settling.”

“That’s different. I have a duty to uphold. But what about everyone else? Those who don’t have to do that sort of thing for their pack? Do you really think they have such a small chance of finding the one person they are supposed to be with?”

“There’s plenty of unhappy people in the world. Maybe this is why.”

Izuku tilted his head. “Do you really think you need to find your soulmate to be happy, though?”

Katsuki paused again. For a moment, he seemed to shift toward the past, his eyes going distant, and Izuku was afraid he’d unsettled the alpha.

Then, Katsuki laughed. “Maybe you’re right. But anyway. It seems nice to think about.” He paused again. “I thought about soulmates when I first saw you. When we met. I don’t know why. But when I saw you were hurt, I would have done anything in the world to protect you. And it was so strange to think about that. Seemed the only conclusion was we were connected somehow.”

Izuku considered this, remembering the feral look in Katsuki’s eyes as he had faced the other rogues. He believed that the alpha would have torn the world apart for him, even though he also couldn’t understand why. They had only exchanged a few words, had almost exchanged more blows than words at that point, and yet Katsuki had defended him.

“I’m sorry to say I didn’t feel that way. But I was mostly thinking about how I was dying.”

“Understandable.” Katsuki licked his canine. Izuku had never seen him do that before, and wondered what it meant. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I’ll do everything I can to make sure it never does again.”

“You and everyone else.” Izuku muttered dryly. Then, he added, quieter, “Thank you. For saving me. I don’t… I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped them.”

“It’s not worth thinking about. Because it’ll never happen.” Katsuki set his arm down. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Izuku flexed his fingers, his skin pleasantly warm, his shoulders relaxed. “You seem practiced. Your mother taught you well. Have you done this one many people before?”

“You’re the first one, omega.” Katsuki’s voice was low and quiet. So sincere that he almost sounded fragile. As if anything Izuku said next could break him.

But Izuku knew he wouldn’t break. Not only because it was Katsuki, but because he’d never do anything to break him. “You’re very kind to me.”

“You deserve it.” Katsuki shifted on his knees. “Here. Take your jacket off.”

Izuku did as he asked, slipping it off until it was just the thin nightshirt wrapped around his body. As he set it aside, Katsuki moved behind him, his hands pressing into the knobs of his shoulders, rubbing circles into his muscles. Izuku closed his eyes and purred happily.

“What can I do to repay you?” Izuku asked.

“You can let me do this for you. It’s… weird. But it’s nice to get to do this for you.”

“I think you just like touching me,” Izuku teased.

Katsuki chuckled and shifted forward, until Izuku felt a breath on the back of his neck. “You’re not wrong, omega. But don’t get too used to it. The others might get jealous.”

“Let them. Who cares.”

Katsuki went very still. So still, Izuku wondered if something had gone wrong.

Then, the alpha said, “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“Yeah.” Izuku leaned back, until he felt the alpha catch his weight. His palms smooth along his back and shoulders, then his chest. Izuku curled toward him, and Katsuki’s arms enveloped him. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m being selfish. But for once, it feels nice to be selfish.”

“It’s not selfish,” Katsuki murmured, but Izuku could tell he wasn’t sure.

Izuku smiled into his chest. “How about just for tonight, let’s pretend no one cares who I choose as my mate?”

“People should care about who you choose. You deserve someone who will treat you well. Right.” Again, there was that hesitation.

Izuku tilted his head, searching for Katsuki’s eyes. “You’ve treated me very well tonight. Thank you, Katsuki.”

The alpha took a breath. He sat for a long moment, then curled up around the omega as if in reply. “We can pretend for tonight. But. Maybe one day it won’t have to be pretend.”

Izuku hummed quietly, let his eyes close. He didn’t want to think about how this might or might not be pretend. Because it sure didn’t feel like either of them were pretending at all.

Chapter Text

They never made it to a bed, instead curling up around each other and burrowing into each other’s clothes. Izuku ended up with his head in Katsuki’s lap and Katsuki found a hollow near the omega’s hip where he could rest his cheek. The nightclothes he wore were soft, warm. Katsuki missed the weight of blankets over him, but he could forgive it, seeing who he was laying with.

Izuku slipped into sleep first, his breathing evening, his heartbeat slow and steady. Katsuki cast lazy circles around the omega’s shoulder, feeling the tension smoothing away. His thumb trailed over the notch where shoulder met neck, and he realized he was subconsciously searching for the omega’s scent gland. He pulled back, not wanting to be too intrusive. But his hand still pressed against Izuku’s skin, along the ridge of his spine.

Pretend, Izuku had said. As if this was pretending. As if the warmth from his body wasn’t real and substantial, as if he wasn’t feeling the tension drain from the omega’s shoulders.

As if this wasn’t the first time he could remember in a long time feeling right.

It shouldn’t have been this simple. After everything that had happened, spending a quiet night with Izuku shouldn’t have made everything feel so much better. And, in some regards, it didn’t make things any better. It didn’t erase the scars on his body. It didn’t take away the memories. It didn’t unmake the harm done to him and the deaths of his entire pack.

But for the night, he could finally lay down and feel okay. He could let himself be present, without feeling guilt for not dwelling on his past. The morning would come, and with it the pressure of Alpha’s pack and the memories of what he had lost and the pain of all that had happened. That dawn was a long way away though. He had so much time to simply rest with Izuku, to feel whole and anchored in place for the first time in so very long.

He nuzzled into Izuku’s side, felt the omega shifting to accommodate him. As tired as he was, he didn’t want to fall asleep. He wanted to stay in that moment with Izuku for as long as possible, to nestle down in the omega’s warmth.

Izuku had asked him to treat him like any other omega. He’d asked it like it was a burden. Katsuki still didn’t know how to convey to him how wonderful it felt to just go through the evening as he had any other day, to care for Izuku as he’d watched his mother do to his father, and how his father had done to him. How spending the night with Izuku, pretend or not, had done him so much more good than he’d ever imagined.

Would a raucous night without any clothes on have also been nice? Sure. But this felt better than any wild imaginings he might have entertained only a night before. At the very least, it felt more real than a skin filled night with the omega ever would have.

Sleep prickled at the edges of his senses, lulling him toward the dark. Katsuki pressed close to Izuku, hoping that if he did fall asleep, maybe he’d dream of just doing this, laying next to Izuku, running his hands over the omega’s skin, warmed by his touch.

It was in that twilight of sleep that he realized, slowly and dazedly, that they weren’t alone. That a shadow had risen from the ground nearby and was hunched at the omega’s head. That when Katsuki opened his eyes, a second pair of eyes stared back at him.

“Hush now,” the familiar voice was low and soft and made Katsuki’s entire body ache with sudden tension. “Don’t do anything too rash. If you wake your partner, he’ll have to be involved in all this, and I don’t think you want that now do you?”

Something shifted in Jest’s hand, a sliver of light catching off the blade of a knife. It was so close to Izuku. Too close. Katsuki looked at the knife and remembered Shoto laying in a pool of blood, of Izuku and Jest fighting with the bloodied knife between them.

Every instinct in him was screaming. Some to leap up and tear Jest apart. Some to curl up and disappear, hoping Jest would leave him alone. Some others to throw himself over Izuku and tell Jest to just do whatever he wished so long as he left the omega alone.

Instead, he found he couldn’t move at all, staring up at Jest as the beta rocked the knife in and out of the moonlight, as he raised a hand and rested his chin in his palm.

“He’s a good choice, you know. Anyone would throw themselves at his feet for even a chance for him to notice them. That’s of course why Alpha is interested. Or rather,” Jest paused, tilted his head. “Do you remember his name?”

Whose name? Katsuki wanted to ask. Because, he thought vaguely and distantly, he didn’t think Jest was talking about Alpha.

“Alpha’s getting anxious. He had duties to uphold. They all do. You remember, right? You, Alpha, have a duty to uphold.”

The name rushed over Katsuki’s skin. Alpha.

Someone had called him that. A nameless, formless thing. An object to be ordered around.

It wasn’t the person Alpha that had made him freeze. It was the name. Alpha. A call to heel. A jerk of the leash at the collar.

Jest was smiling in that scorpion way of his. “You’ve done your part very well, all things considered. Sure, we had to intervene. Up the pressure on him and his pack. Force the issue, so to speak, but really, it was you doing all the important work. Telling him how strong he is. Convincing him of all he could do. Placing him in the perfect position to take that step forward to lead.” He purred in that satisfied way betas only did when greatly pleased. “And you don’t even remember why you’re doing all of this.”

Why you’re doing this.

What was he saying?

I thought we were soulmates.

Even I know how stupid that is.

Someone set me on this path.

Someone pointed me toward him.

The feeling sunk so deep so swiftly Katsuki expected the earth under him to fall away and pull him under. And if it did, it would pull Izuku under as well. Izuku. Who was the center of all of this.

Izuku, who had always been the one the rogues had wanted.

He forced his jaw open. “No,” he hissed.

Jest flashed his knife in the light. “Oh yes. You’ve done splendidly. But it’s time to come home now. You’ve had your fun. If it was me, I would have indulged a bit more, but it was a sweet little night. Cozy, I suppose, and if that is what he wants, then very well. We can oblige.” Jest was staring at Izuku now, his eyes softened in a strange way.

Katsuki felt his skin prickling and he growled low and in warning, and Izuku stirred. He wrapped an arm around Katsuki, pulled him closer. Even in sleep, he sought to comfort Katsuki. Even when his life was dangling just over his head, he was still seeking to give himself to someone in need.

“No,” Katsuki said again. He wasn’t even really sure what he was saying it to.

“Yes, Alpha,” Jest’s gaze hardened when he looked up at Katsuki. “You will come with me. You have set everything into place. Now we need simply remove you from play and he will come to us. It will be simple and painless. We won’t have to involve anyone else.”

No one else.

It wasn’t a coincidence Jest was doing this now, when there was a new pack adding their warriors to Toshinori’s. Jest made it seem like Katsuki was here like bait on a hook for Izuku, but this felt premature. Izuku had said they were only pretending. And even if it hadn’t felt like they were pretending, his position still felt precarious. Only a couple of days ago, Izuku had still been fully prepared to give himself up to save his pack.

But maybe that was the point. Even now, after settling himself into a position of strength, Izuku was still willing to make that sacrifice. And that was what they needed most. Especially now, when his pack was at its strongest.

But Jest was only one person. And Izuku’s pack was strong. As were the warriors come to aid them. If Katsuki could only alert them to Jest’s presence, then it wouldn’t matter any. Even Jest wouldn’t be able to fight against them all.

He had to alert the pack. Protect Izuku. Protect himself. Because more than anything else, he refused to be the reason these bastards got their hooks into the omega.

He growled again, low and furious, and Jest’s grip shifted on the knife. No longer a playful display. The light disappeared from the blade, hid into shadows.

“Obey,” Jest commanded, and something in the way he said it shrieked in Katsuki’s ears. He wanted to listen. To just do as Jest told him to. That was what he’d been doing from the start wasn’t it?

He was in far too deep and had been before he’d even met Izuku. He’d been doomed from the start.

There was no warning.

One second, Katsuki was panting for breath, fighting against Jest’s command.

The next, Izuku had ripped out of his arms and hurled himself forward.

Jest let out a startled yelp as Izuku tackled him to the ground. The omega roared in fury, a sound grounded so deep the earth seemed to shake and it physically hurt Katsuki to hear it. But it was just enough to shake him loose from Jest’s grip and with a snarl, he leaped into the fray.

Everything happened so quickly. It felt like an eternity between Izuku’s roar and when Katsuki finally reached the two of them. Jest was trying to wrestle Izuku under control, just as he had when he’d attacked Shoto, and Izuku was putting up one hell of a fight in reply. They both seemed to have learned from their previous encounter and were trying to take advantage of the small openings they could pry apart, but theirs was still a stalemate.

It was easy for Katsuki to reach between them, shove Izuku aside and replace him in wrestling with Jest. And unlike Izuku, Katsuki was bigger than Jest, stronger too. It took him only seconds to disarm the beta and shove him down to the floor, pinning him in place while Izuku howled and snarled in fury. Beyond the walls of his dwelling, the pack was alert, howls ringing up in reply to their aeon’s cries. Katsuki half expected warriors to tear through the walls at any second. Why was it taking so damn long?

Jest hissed in displeasure up at Katsuki, then melted through his fingers. It was an odd sensation. To be gripping flesh one second and nothing the next, just a slippery, insubstantial mist between his fingers. Katsuki could do nothing as Jest vanished into the shadows, just as he had every time before, and like every time before Katsuki expected that to be the end of it.

Then Izuku’s rageful cries turned to pained ones.

He spun over his shoulder just in time to see Jest’s arms wrapped tightly around Izuku’s waist, for the shadows to be crawling up Izuku’s body, pulling him into the shadows along the floor. Izuku struggled and snarled and even grabbed his incense knife from the table to stab straight into Jest’s throat. It went straight through, splitting nothing but air.

Jest’s scorpion smile shone through the shadows. “Come along now. My aeon wishes to speak with you.”

Izuku gasped, his body slipping farther into the floor, his knees vanishing through the ground. Without thinking, Katsuki tackled the omega, intending to rip him away from Jest. Instead, as soon as he touched Izuku, he felt the icy grip of the shadows closing in around him, too.

“Ah yes! You should come with us too, Alpha. Back where you belong.” Jest’s voice was thinning, little more than a whisper on the breeze, but it sunk into Katsuki’s skin like claws.

He struggled to pull himself and Izuku from the sinking cesspit of shadows, but found he couldn’t fight against the grip of the shadows. They were overwhelming and insubstantial; he might as well have been fighting the sun itself for all the good it did.

In that last seconds, as their bodies sunk deeper into the shadows and Katsuki slowly became aware of something else under his feet, a new floor far away from the Izuku’s village, Izuku grabbed onto Katsuki, his nails digging deep into his clothes, clinging desperately to him. His fear was bitter and rotten in Katsuki’s mouth and all he could do was howl in impotent fury.

The dwelling unraveled around them.

Katsuki didn’t quite know any other word to describe it. Only that one second the leather and cloth walls of Izuku’s home were pressed in around them, and the next they were split apart and moonlight was streaming over them. Threads wrapped tightly around their limbs and waist and anchored them in place, a brief fight between thread and shadow where Katsuki feared he might be split in two and ended suddenly when Izuku yelped in pain and the shadows gave way.

They both were torn upward from the force of the threads around them, thrown into the air before the threads caught them again and they hung there as if caught in a spider’s web. Katsuki was too disorientated to do much, but he did grab onto Izuku, determined to keep him safe from whatever was happening. Before he could establish exactly what was going on, the threads loosened and lowered them to the ground, then let them go entirely.

They were surrounded by people almost immediately.

It was a sudden wash of sound and movement and eyes, and Katsuki stilled under the pressure of so many people so close, especially when Izuku whined as if calling to someone.

That someone appeared only a second later, the crowd parting as quickly as it had descended.

“Izuku,” Toshinori reached for his son and Katsuki moved back, knowing it would be unwise to get between the pack alpha and his child. He was in his towering form, all bugling muscle and intimidating presence. He scooped Izuku up like he was still a pup, cradling him to his chest and checking him over for injuries.

Izuku immediately fought to get out of his grip, eyes scouring over the crowd. At first, Katsuki thought he must not want to seem so weak in front of the pack, then he let out a desperate call, “Katsuki!”

“I’m here.” Katsuki said, and Izuku leaped out of his father’s arms to grab his shoulders.

“I thought Jest had taken you.” There was a trembling edge to his voice, something he wasn’t quite able to keep to himself.

Startled by the omega’s panic, over his own wellbeing of all things, Katsuki shook his head. “No. I’m all right. I thought he was going to take you.”

All the panic in Izuku’s expression narrowed, sharpened into something like a blade, and he hissed, “I wouldn’t have made it easy on him.”

Katsuki blinked, taken aback by this proclamation. Had Izuku forgotten that Katsuki had been right there? That he’d seen the omega struggling to get free of Jest’s trap?

Then again, he had also been there to see the fight between him and Jest, the way Izuku had leaped on the beta with every intention of ripping him to shreds.

A smirk slowly spread along his lips. “I know you wouldn’t have.”

A hand landed on his shoulder, huge and consuming, and Katsuki bristled at the touch until he realized it was Toshinori.

“Are you two all right?”

“We’re okay. Just a little shaken,” Izuku replied primly, switching far too easily into his soothing tendencies, speaking less to his father than to the pack watching.

“What was with the strings?” Katsuki asked, kicking aside a few looped threads still clinging to his leg.

“Ah, that would be my work.”

The voice wasn’t immediately familiar, though Katsuki wouldn’t have missed the tall pack alpha standing nearby even if he’d wanted to. Both of the visiting pack alphas and their packs had come to investigate what was happening, and now the tallest one – Tsunagu, Katsuki thought he remembered – intertwined his fingers and let his hands rest casually at his waist.

“I heard you and Aeon Izuku in distress and knew that Alpha’s pack had employed underhanded tactics before. I apologize for the mess, but I thought it was the fastest way to ensure your safety.” He seemed genuinely sorry for the state of Izuku’s dwelling.

Despite this, it took Izuku a moment longer to realize the exact extent of the destruction. The leathers walls had collapsed without the support of the threads weaving them together, and the cloth walls had unraveled completely and lay in huge tangled piles all around him, his furniture and possessions scattered about in a mocking resemblance of a home.

“Oh,” he clearly struggled with what to do about the entire situation. “That’s okay. I, um… thank you for your help. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t acted as quickly as you did.” And while that was true, Katsuki could tell Izuku was more than a little disappointed in the destruction around him.

He didn’t get to dwell on it long before his mother came charging through the crowd, screaming he child’s name. As quickly as he had reverted to his proper aeon self, Izuku startled at the panicked sound of his mother’s voice and ran to her, allowing her to grab onto him and grabbing onto her with equal enthusiasm. All semblance of propriety gone, they clung to one another, mother and child, whimpering and purring back and forth in small attempts to comfort the other.

Toshinori watched his family, but kept a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. He tried not to be completely conscious of this fact, but couldn’t ignore it. Although he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, he kept waiting for Toshinori to turn an accusation toward him.

And when he did, Katsuki would deserve it.

He had helped forward Jest’s plan from the very beginning. He had been part of it all along.

Toshinori’s hand gripped a little tighter and Katsuki held his breath, knowing what was coming next.

“Are you all right?” The pack alpha asked.

It was among the last things Katsuki expected to hear. “Fine. Fine, I just—” he swallowed, glancing out over the wreckage.

Toshinori followed his gaze. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of everything. Here. Come with me.”

He gently pushed Katsuki forward, and again Katsuki expected to be led toward the council room or maybe even to that small tent he’d been tied in when he’d first arrived. But then he realized Toshinori was guiding him toward his own dwelling, where Izuku and Inko were already limping toward, Izuku leaning more heavily on his mother as she whispered to him.

He’d never been inside Toshinori’s dwelling before, and he felt a pang of panic at the thought of it. He didn’t belong in that place. The seat of Toshinori’s power was the council room, but the seat of his family was that dwelling. Going near it felt like brushing near something hot and sharp. Something about it reminded him too much of the home he had shared with his family, with his pack. The shape of it, the smell of it, the number of people crowding toward it.

He dug his heels in, and Toshinori paused. His form had wilted slightly, with the danger passed, but his eyes remained sharp and intelligent, small beads of light against a growing dark. That light pierced through Katsuki, picked at his very soul, leaving him raw and exposed. Maybe Toshinori saw exactly what he was thinking. Maybe he simply understood that this was painful.

In either case, he let go of Katsuki’s shoulder. “I have to speak with Shota and Tsunagu,” he said quietly, “would you please watch over Izuku and Inko in my stead?”

Katsuki stared at him.

He wanted to scream, They wanted me here! They set this all up! Why can’t you understand I’m the danger!

But if he did, then Toshinori might have him chased out. And what would Jest and Alpha do once Katsuki was alone? They would come for him, certainly, and whether he had been chased out or not, there was still a chance Izuku would come for him. It all led in a simple circle back toward what Jest and Alpha truly wanted.

And besides. He was selfish enough to admit he didn’t want to leave. That he was scared and wanted to curl up and hide away among the pack. That they made him feel safe and he so desperately needed that in this moment, even if he was a danger to them all.

“Please? I will feel better knowing you’re with them.” Toshinori prompted.

Katsuki took a breath, coming back to himself. “Fine,” he managed, though he felt stuck in place. Toshinori had to gently nudge him toward the dwelling, and even then Katsuki’s feet were nearly too heavy to move.

Inko hovered at the dwelling entrance, waiting for him to duck inside. Her eyes were red but dry and there was a familiar line across her lips. The same one Izuku got when he was being stubborn. Katsuki could have traced that line straight from Inko’s face onto her son’s.

He ducked under her arm and stepped into the dwelling.

- - -

Soren came to care for them, serving them tea and small snacks while the pack roiled around outside.

Izuku and Inko huddled together, drawn by both their bonds as omegas and as mother and son. He curled up in her lap as if he were still a small pup and she held him just the same, sniffling every now and then.

At the table, Katsuki brooded.

There wasn’t a better word for it. Ostensibly, he was there to keep watch over Inko and Izuku, make sure no one came to hurt them. In truth, Izuku knew his father was worried for the alpha and wished to hoard him away in his own dwelling, where he felt the most safe. The fact that Inko was allowing him in her dwelling when she was so frightened spoke to how much she must trust the alpha, and how much she cared for him.

She kept looking over at him, biting her lip as if she wanted to say something, but never quite managing to speak. Katsuki had his back turned to them, facing the tied entryway. He was too quiet and too still, but Izuku didn’t know how to comfort him. Part of him wanted to curl up with the alpha as well, to feel him safe and warm and protected. Seeing Jest standing over the alpha, how wide and terrified Katsuki’s eyes had been, had rattled Izuku fiercely. He hadn’t even realized he’d leaped at Jest until the beta had yelped under him.

Seeing Katsuki so tense, Izuku couldn’t settle quite right. His mother tried to purr and hum and whisper to him, running her hand over his forehead and back and tidying his hair as she always did when he was upset. But even this couldn’t make him feel better.

Eventually, she glanced up one last time to Katsuki.

“Katsuki,” she called, the alpha startling at the sound of his name. “Please come here?” She said it as an invitation, her hand outstretched toward him. Izuku held his breath, hoping Katsuki would let himself be folded into their embrace.

For a second, it seemed he wouldn’t. Izuku could see his argument rising to his tongue: Toshinori had set him to watch them. He couldn’t do that if he was cuddled up with them.

And there was a second hesitation he saw, the want to not look weak. To not give into something he so desperately wanted. Izuku could almost taste it, his want to stand apart from them. To be strong for them.

Well, he was an alpha, Izuku supposed.

He caught Katsuki’s eyes and narrowed his glare, a silent command. Somehow he knew Katsuki would react to this.

Come, he called.

And Katsuki slowly rose.

It was an odd thing to watch. How Katsuki tried so hard to hold himself together, and how the closer he stepped to the two of them, his defenses crumbled. What was it about them that tore through all the defenses Katsuki had put up? Was it their vulnerability? Their honest concern for him? Or was it his want to join them, to not be alone.

Izuku understood that feeling too much. Only hours ago, he’d felt that desperate loneliness. And maybe Katsuki was feeling it too. Maybe he was hurting in the same way, but felt he couldn’t show it.

They were a lot alike, when Izuku really thought about it. Stuck between their own wants and their duties. Izuku as aeon, and Katsuki as an outsider alpha.

When Katsuki collapsed to his knees next to them, it was a true collapse. He seemed to go boneless, as if he might fall right into sleep. Inko didn’t quite catch him, but she did reach up and cup his cheeks in her hands. And he leaned into that touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki murmured.

Izuku didn’t think he even realized he’d spoken. He reached across as well, moving into Katsuki’s lap and wrapping an arm around his waist. Katsuki allowed himself to be dragged into the pile with the omegas, going soft and pliable. He wasn’t quite relaxed. It was more like a surrender. But Izuku didn’t know who or what Katsuki was surrendering to. His mother, it seemed. Inko did have that effect on people, he supposed.

Then Katsuki curled into Izuku and said again, “I’m sorry,” and somehow he knew it was something else the alpha was struggling with, something he was fighting a losing battle.

Izuku nuzzled closer. I’m here, he wanted to say. They weren’t alone. Not with each other. And certainly not with Inko drawing them both close, as if they were still small pups scared by a storm. She held them as if she could shield them both, as if it were so easy for her to make all their fears disappear.

If only it was that simple.

- - -

Katsuki heard when Toshinori swept into the dwelling.

He heard the pause, the heavy silence as the pack alpha inspected the pile of the three of them.

Then, a sigh. “It’s already happened, then?”

“I think so,” Inko replied quietly.

“It happened so quickly. I didn’t think he would…,” he trailed off, lost for words.

Inko swept a hand over Katsuki’s forehead. Her touch was careful and caring and motherly in a way his own mother had only ever been when he’d been at his very worst. He was still halfway curled around her and nearly completely curled up with Izuku. Izuku had slipped asleep some time ago, and Katsuki had pretended to slip with him. But he couldn’t let himself fall too easily.

After all, he was the wolf in waiting.

“Another time, Toshinori,” Inko reprimanded softly. Katsuki hadn’t ever heard her speak to the pack alpha in such a way.

Toshinori stepped closer. A hand pressed against his forehead, the pack alpha’s rough palm sweeping into his bangs. “Well then. We must do all we can for them.”

“I’m scared.” Inko said it so plainly. Katsuki could almost believe she hadn’t really meant it.

“I know. I am too.” Toshinori paused, lifted his hand away. “But we’re ready.”

“We have to be.” Had Inko always spoken so simply? So honestly? “Stay with us.” A command, not a request.

And Toshinori sighed. “Yes. I will.”

He didn’t join their curled up pile. But Katsuki felt the pack alpha watching over them, and he knew that should anything more happen, Toshinori would take care of Inko and Izuku. And maybe, just maybe, he’d save Katsuki from himself as well.

Only then did Katsuki let himself nuzzle closer to Izuku, let himself soften into something like sleep, a twilight where nightmares and reality merged, a constant reminder: you are the danger in their midst.

Chapter Text

Izuku startled awake, not having meant to fall asleep, and immediately searched for Katsuki. The alpha woke in response to his rustling, eyes blinking rapidly as he scanned the area around them, searching for danger. They were met with only Inko, sleeping next to them, and Toshinori, his head bowed in rest, sitting nearby.

Seeing everything well, Izuku settled down again, only to notice that Katsuki had remained tense. He was staring again, as he had the previous night, his gaze dull and distant. But not in the way it was when he was thinking of his family, his pack. This was something else. Something much worse.

Izuku slowly pushed himself up. Toshinori roused with him, watching while saying nothing, and Katsuki rose as well. He only stayed in place when Inko refused to let him go.

“She’s a little clingy,” Izuku murmured apologetically.

Katsuki frowned at the grip Inko had on his arm. “Always been like this, huh?”

“Only with people she likes,” Izuku teased. Immediately Katsuki deflated, as if Izuku had cursed him. “What’s wrong?”

Katsuki glanced over at him, then away, unable to quite face him. Instead, he found himself staring at Toshinori, silent and watchful as usual, and he shrunk even more. He looked so small and frail in that moment. It was no wonder Inko felt the need to cling to him, to keep him safe, when his eyes were dull and lifeless and his shoulders were drooped with despair.

“I need to talk with your father.” Even his voice was missing that usual beat of fire.

Izuku blinked, then turned to Toshinori. The old pack alpha nodded once. “Here.” He reached across and shook Inko awake. She murmured in sleep, then jerked back when she realized who she was holding onto, asking Katsuki for forgiveness.

Katsuki said nothing, and when Toshinori placed a hand on his shoulder, he shied away from the touch.

Something was very wrong.

Izuku stood when they did, but Toshinori gestured for him to stay. Only Inko taking hold of his arm kept him from following them. Katsuki stumbled like a reed broken by a storm, only barely clinging to himself. And then they were gone and Izuku felt so very lonely once again.

It was an odd sensation. To feel so alone when his mother was seated right next to him. When he was sat in the dwelling of his parents, he had always felt so safe and warm. It was a secret, sacred place, a place he could go to pretend to be a pup again, to not have to hold his head so high and always have the right thing to say.

“What happened?” Izuku asked his mother.

Inko shook her head. She straightened his jacket. “He was with you tonight.”

Izuku stilled. In the rush of all that had happened, he hadn’t even considered that Jest’s attack had revealed their shared night. They had been caught, quite literally, in the act, and there was no denying that Katsuki hadn’t been with him when Jest had appeared.

So Izuku said, “We didn’t do anything. I just… wanted to feel like a normal omega for a night.”

Inko nodded thoughtfully. “Did he treat you well?”

“Yes. He did.” Izuku swallowed. “It was… nice.” There weren’t really words for what the previous night had meant. Especially with it tainted by Jest’s appearance and all that had happened thereafter. “I should go make sure he’s okay.”

“Stay. Soren will bring tea.” It wasn’t a request.

Much as he didn’t want to just sit there and do nothing, he could tell that Inko needed to be with him, that she needed the reassurance her son was okay just as much as he needed to know that Katsuki was okay. And, when he actually looked at her, the loneliness did fade. She was his mother. She had been the only constant, the singular person since the day he’d been born. Not even Shoto had been with him as long.

He leaned into her embrace, hummed when she grabbed him a little too tightly and swallowed something that might have been a whine. His father would take care of Katsuki, he knew. He could wait just a little longer for news.

Soren did appear soon after, as if summoned by the mention of his name, with tea and food. Izuku picked listlessly at the plate in front of him, popping small morsels into his mouth when he noticed either his mother or Soren watching. His tea went cold, undrunk, and when Soren noticed he poured a fresh cup. Izuku measured the time by the fading steam from his mug.

Then, without warning or ceremony, Toshinori and Katsuki reappeared.

Izuku startled at the sight of them, even more so when Katsuki almost immediately collapsed to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. Izuku remembered he’d whispered that last night as well.

“We know what Jest wants.” Toshinori announced as if to a crowd.

Izuku glanced to his mother, then at Katsuki. “What happened?”

“Jest’s pack isn’t run by Alpha. It’s run by an omega. And that omega is looking for a successor.”

The words hung heavy in the air. So heavy, Izuku couldn’t breathe. He looked again at Katsuki, but the alpha refused to meet his gaze.

“What?” Was all he could manage.

“This has always been their plan. To lure you or take you from us and make you their leader. Do you hear what I’m saying, Izuku?” Toshinori suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders. His grip was tight, but trembled slightly. He looked Izuku in the eye a little too harshly, though all Izuku could see in them was panic. “They will stop at nothing to have you. And you cannot let them. Do you understand?”

“But I—” Izuku swallowed.

For the good of the pack, he remembered.

One day, you’ll grow up, Touya whispered.

You didn’t really seem concerned with settling, Katsuki had told him just the previous night.

Are you really going to just throw your life away? Katsuki had hissed at him.

You’d be unstoppable if you just let go, Katsuki had told him.

Izuku swallowed. “They’re here for me. They’ve always been here for me.”

“Yes. They would have taken you by force if possible. But they were also planning to use Katsuki as bait. Once you were close to him, they planned to steal him away and lure you to them. And you would have gone to save him without a thought.”

“I would have,” Izuku agreed quietly. He again tried to look at Katsuki, but the alpha’s head was bowed low. “Did… did you know?”

Katsuki flinched. Toshinori sighed.

“I don’t think it’s that simple. I think…,” he glanced toward Katsuki. Seemed to think. Settled deeper in himself. “I don’t believe Katsuki would have done this purposefully. I think Jest and his aeon have done this before. They knew what they were doing. They’ve been manipulating everything from the very start.”

“They knew I’d… come to care for Katsuki?” Izuku again glanced at the alpha, but still he refused to look up.

Toshinori lowered his chin, a small concession. “I think they knew enough that you would do anything to save those under your care. All they had to do was place him under your watch, and that is exactly what they did. Everything else… well it just made things a little easier for them. But no, Izuku, I don’t think they knew you’d come to have stronger feelings for him. He was always just a tool in their eyes. Nothing more.”

“But I—” Izuku felt tears welling in his eyes. He wasn’t sure why. “I… what does this mean? What are you going to do with Katsuki?”

“Protect him.”

There was no hesitation. No question. If anything, there was only a question to why Izuku had asked at all. This was simple. Toshinori would protect what was theirs. And Katsuki was theirs.

Katsuki shuddered. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Izuku hated seeing him like this. He was stronger than this. But after everything that had happened, he couldn’t blame the alpha for breaking down, for finally letting the pressure force him to his knees.

He ducked out of his father’s hands and went to Katsuki, folding the alpha into his embrace. Katsuki slumped against him, all his weight against Izuku’s chest, and he said again, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t you. You didn’t want this,” Izuku said. He wanted to kiss Katsuki, but not with his parents watching. Instead, he nuzzled deep into Katsuki’s neck, scenting him, marking him as one of theirs.

That’s right. Katsuki was part of their pack. Jest and Alpha and their aeon couldn’t claim him. Not anymore. Because he was theirs.

A little voice ruffled at the back of his head. Mine, it said, and Izuku opened his mouth a little more, his teeth shining at Katsuki’s neck. He covered them almost immediately. What was he thinking?

He drew away before the voice could return, before he did anything stupid, holding onto Katsuki’s shoulders and propping him upright. “We’ll figure this out. Together. You aren’t alone.”

Finally, Katsuki’s face brightened. In an instant, he went from dull, lifeless, defeated, to red and heated and angry. “Didn’t you hear what your father said?” He snapped, more aggressive than perhaps he realized. “I’m the one who’s a danger to you. They sent me here to trap you.”

Izuku bared his teeth in warning. “You really think I’d let them do that?”

“Of course you would.” The heat died from his voice, embers extinguished. He sighed, exhausted, and slumped away until Izuku couldn’t hold onto him anymore. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You’ve been willing to throw yourself away from the very beginning. And they knew it. They’ve just been waiting for the right moment to force you to act. I’ve been begging you for weeks now not to let them manipulate you. But you still would go, if they threatened what you care about.” His lip quivered. He seemed to want to say more, but the words never manifested.

As much as Izuku wanted to reach for him, he knew that wasn’t the answer. It was what Katsuki feared. He feared being the reason someone would hurt Izuku. And he feared Izuku would let them, just to make sure he was okay. And in a sense, Katsuki was right. Izuku would do anything to keep Katsuki safe. Just as he’d do anything to keep his pack safe.

But protecting people didn’t always mean surrendering.

Sometimes, it meant standing up and fighting, no matter what.

Izuku turned to his father. “We’re going to fight them.”

Toshinori nodded. “I’m afraid they will attack once they realize they cannot lure you away.”

“Then we have to be prepared.”

Again, Toshinori nodded. “We will be. We must be.”

Those words. Izuku had said them.

His throat threatened to close with emotion, but Izuku pushed it down. He met his father’s gaze, resolute.

They would win. They had no other choice. And now, there was no denying it.

- - -

Shoto was waiting for him outside of Toshinori’s dwelling.

Inko insisted that Katsuki stay with her while the others prepared for battle. Katsuki was too tired or defeated to fight and seeing it made Izuku’s stomach twist up. Jest and Alpha had done this to Katsuki. They had hurt him to get at Izuku.

That would not stand.

Toshinori swept out first, with Izuku following close behind, and Shoto stepped up beside him.

“What all do you know?” Izuku asked.

Shoto searched his face. “Jest tried to take you and Katsuki. Your dwelling’s a pile of leather and string.

Oh, right. He’d forgotten that detail.

“Something to worry about later,” Izuku said. “Have Mina gather up some betas and store all my things out of the way. We’ll need the space.”

Shoto said nothing at first. He kept watching Izuku’s face, looking for something. When Izuku met his gaze, he nodded. “I’ll get it done.”

“Good. Meet us in the council room. We’re gathering all the other pack alphas. A fight’s coming. Sooner rather than later.”

Shoto bowed his head, as he might to Toshinori, and turned to find Mina. Izuku felt a thrill, watching him go under his orders. How strange it was. As aeon, he always had the power to command nearly anyone in the pack, but had rarely ever done so. It had always felt a little awkward, something unseemly for the aeon to be doing.

But now, it felt right.

The pack hadn’t always been led by an alpha, Torino had said.

The pack needed him, his father always reminded him.

He could be amazing, Katsuki had snarled at him, if he would only let himself go.

Izuku paused, searching the crowd. When he spotted Tenya making his way toward the council lodge, he waved the alpha over.

“Listen,” he thought he might sound breathless, excited, and he wasn’t sure which it was. Either way, Tenya leaned in close to hear what he had to say. “I’ve a message I need your family to deliver.”

- - -

Katsuki watched Inko move around her dwelling. She had a nervous way of moving, always needing something to do, something in her hands. He had noticed this quality of hers before, though not given it much thought beyond the fact that Izuku had the same quality when he was particularly overwhelmed. Now though, she bustled around her dwelling, tidying up things that were already in line, checking and rechecking the tea Soren had laid out for them, murmuring to herself about this and that needing to be done.

Every now and then, she came over to check on him as well, but at least she had stopped piling blankets on top of him. There was currently one wrapped around his shoulders, another in his lap, and a third, huge woven one that felt closer to a rug than a blanket, draped over everything else. Katsuki sat and he let Inko take care of him, unsure what to do. Not that he particularly wanted to do anything.

Why she was taking care of him at all was still perplexing. He’d been so ready for Toshinori to either chase him out or kill him when he told the pack alpha what he knew. Now, his mate was bustling over and around him and Toshinori had gone to prepare for the inevitable invasion and Izuku had scented him so deeply he could still smell the omega’s hair in his nose.

And here he was. Sitting there. A useless slump of scars and burnt-out embers.

I should have died with the rest of them.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had such thoughts. But he’d never truly let himself believe them until now. Because all he had done since his pack had died was harm others. And now that a threat was right at their border, he wasn’t even able to stand up to fight.

Pathetic. He was so damn pathetic.

As if hearing his thoughts, Inko appeared in front of him, a steaming mug in her hands. “Here,” she offered it to him, “you should drink something.”

Katsuki shuffled in his blankets until his hands were free, allowing Inko to push the mug into them then up toward his lips. He took a tentative sniff. The tea was something subtle and cool. It was a thin green color. Katsuki considered it, then set it aside.

“In a moment.” He nestled back into the blankets.

Inko pursed her lips at him. Izuku sometimes did the same, he thought vaguely. “Maybe you’d like something else? Soren can get anything you’d like.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Something to eat, maybe? You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Do you want me to set a fire? Maybe that would be nice to sit by.”

“I’m fine here.”

Inko’s brow furrowed deeply. He couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or bewildered. “You look so sad. Please tell me why you’re sad.”

Something harsh wrung up Katsuki’s throat. It could have been mistaken for a laugh or a sob. “Don’t worry about me. Not worth the trouble.”

“Don’t be silly.” Inko shifted some of the blankets, filling her hands with movement. She kept looking up at him as she worked. “It’ll be okay. I know you don’t believe that. But it will be.”

Katsuki didn’t look at her. “Your mate should have told me to leave.”

“What use would that have done?” Inko patted the blankets flat then leaned back to peer up at him. “Jest and his pack would have still come. Whether you were here or not, they would still seek to hurt us. Why would we cause you harm by pushing you out when it makes no difference?”

“Because I’m the reason they’re here. I’m part of their plan to hurt you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she patted him again. Something softened in her expression when she looked up at him again. “My son is very fond of you, you know. He will need you in the coming days. If you think you can help”

Katsuki said nothing. He didn’t know how else to tell Inko that he was the thing her son needed help to keep away from.

Inko stood there a few more moments, wringing her hands helplessly, then muttered something about staying where he was and she slipped out the dwelling. Katsuki stared after her, wanting to get up, to walk away, to just wander out into the forest. It would be better for everyone if he just left. If he just found Jest and Alpha and let them kill him.

Maybe this was meant to be. He’d escaped death once. Maybe it was simply time to pay his dues.

He hadn’t quite gotten up the courage to move when Inko returned, ducking inside and going immediately to where he sat. She tucked at the blankets over his shoulders and smiled at him, reached out as if to touch his face, then shied away.

Soren came a few minutes later with fresh tea. Katsuki noticed, somewhat belatedly, that he had brought an extra cup. Three lined up on the table, the tea set to stew in the center. He dreaded who that third person would be. Probably either Toshinori or Izuku, come to try to convince him that he wasn’t a danger, that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

But he knew the truth. He’d been used to hurt these people. All they had done was take him in and care for him and give him a place to belong. And in return, he promised only destruction.

He knew a third person was coming. But he wasn’t quite prepared when that person stormed into the dwelling without announcing herself, when she huffed out an exasperated sigh and threw something in Katsuki’s face. It took him a moment to realize, yes, that was Kaya, and yes, she had just thrown a pile of clothes at him.

“Get up. Get properly dressed. No time for pitying yourself, you can do that later. Now’s the time to get things done.”

Katsuki untangled the clothes from his face. A glance and he recognized the familiar pattern of his pack’s clothing, trousers and a short tunic with ties at the front, a padded vest for extra protection. These were different from the ones Kaya had given him before. She must have found more in her stash.

He set them aside. “I can help by staying out of the way. Jest wants to use me to hurt you.”

“Well Jest is a moron, isn’t he? And haven’t we proven that already by how many times we’ve outdone him?” Kaya kicked his foot. “Get up. Enji’s asked me to summon up some wood we can use to build stakes. Gonna need someone to help with it. And you’re the one.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Katsuki growled.

“I did, and I’m ignoring it. Now did you hear what I said?” She kicked him again. “Dai spent quite a bit of time making sure to get those right for you, so don’t throw them away. Put them on and let’s get going.”

It took Katsuki to remember who Dai was: the master tailor. The beta who had repaired Izuku’s coat. He looked at the pile of clothes again.

“These aren’t from your mate?” He asked.

Kaya shook her head. “Only set he brought back was the one you already wore. These are new, just for you. So don’t waste them. Get up.”

Katsuki hesitated. He sensed Inko nearby, watching the exchange, wringing her hands and leaning forward, ready to intervene. But Kaya simply stood there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, expectant and impatient.

When he still didn’t move, her expression softened at the edges, the corner of her eyes drawing down. “You can feel bad about yourself once this is over. We’ll cleanse you proper, now that we know what’s staining you, and you’ll feel better. But we don’t have time right now. We need you to get up and get moving. Before Jest and Alpha make their next move.”

Still, Katsuki didn’t move. He looked up at Kaya, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “You know. I never knew his name.”

Kaya tilted her head, a silent question.

“The alpha that died. Alphas are commodities in Jest’s pack. Nameless things. They called all of us Alpha, because we’re only useful for throwing at a problem and if we die, then there are plenty more to take our place. So I never knew his name. The rogue who died. No one knew his name. They only ever called him Alpha. Same as me.” Why was he thinking about Skull-Face? Why was he thinking about the fact that he hadn’t known the man’s name? Why was he thinking about Alpha and how Alpha wasn’t a person but a rank, as low as slave?

Jest had sent all three of them to find an omega. To find Izuku. It hadn’t mattered to him which of them succeeded. As long as one did. He had put his bets on Katsuki, yes, but he wouldn’t have cared if Katsuki had died so long as Skull-Face and Solid snatched Izuku. That had always been the plan. The fact that it was him and not someone else didn’t matter to them.

It never mattered.

For a long moment, Kaya said nothing. She sat there, all her earlier fire gone cold. Katsuki didn’t think she knew what to do or what to say. In a way, it was nice to see her so appalled by what he had said. To know that what he’d said wasn’t typical, wasn’t right. But somewhere in him, he still felt the tug at the leash when Jest had called him Alpha.

It was Inko who eventually came forward. She took his hand pressed between her palms, watery eyes finding his.

“Katsuki,” she said. “Katsuki. Your name is Katsuki.”

Katsuki looked up at her, eyes clearing a little when she said his name again, “Katsuki. Unless you’d like to be called something else?” She faltered at this, perhaps surprised even by her own realization, shock at the thought that Katsuki might not actually be his name.

Again, Katsuki looked at her.

Then, he laughed.

He laughed louder than he had meant to, but it was a full laugh. A laugh of relief, maybe, or disbelief.

How long had it been since he’d laughed like that?

He laughed so hard his sides hurt, and when he collapsed forward both Kaya and Inko held him up, and when his laughter turned to something more sorrowful, they clung to him.

“There now, pup. Let it out and get it over with. You’ll feel better once it’s done,” Kaya told him.

“You’ll always be Katsuki to us. Or, any other name, if you like those better,” Inko was sobbing with him.

Her tears were warm on his skin, and they sunk into him. He nuzzled closer to her, and felt her return the gesture.

There were no words for what he felt. Nothing was simple and nothing ever would be. But for now, he sagged into the arms of the two women, grateful to be held and held up by them.

Chapter Text

When Katsuki swept through the door, Izuku was so startled he shot to his feet.

Shota, in the middle of suggesting a group of his warriors to begin normal, covert rounds through the village, paused. For a second, he looked annoyed, but when he realized it was Katsuki, something else overcame him. Seated at his side, Hitoshi tilted his head, clearly curious. Even Tsunagu, who had not spent much time with Katsuki beyond their first meeting, watched with interest. Izuku wondered if he remembered Katsuki from earlier, and as if the pack alpha were reading his mind, Tsunagu glanced toward Izuku, then back to Katsuki, linking the two.

Of course, he wouldn’t have to wonder very long, for Katsuki simply swept a quick glance over the room, cataloguing everyone gathered around the fire, before slipping behind the group until he reached Izuku’s side. Then, without ceremony, he stood and waited for Izuku to sit back down, crouching at the omega’s side. He surveyed the fire as if reading something from the way it twisted and spat, then looked up at Toshinori.

Silent words passed between them. Izuku could almost hear them, a quick acknowledgement, a sincere thank you. Katsuki lowered his eyes and his chin to Toshinori, and Toshinori turned to Shota.

“As you were suggesting?” He prompted.

Shota frowned between them. “Anymore planned interruptions?” He grumped, but continued on with his plan.

As he did, Izuku searched Katsuki’s face. The alpha looked like his normal self again. Tall and proud, with his eyes bright and focused. When he noticed Izuku staring, he cocked his head in question.

“Are you okay?” Izuku leaned in to whisper to him.

Katsuki’s nostrils flared. “Never better.”

And truly, he did look better.

He was dressed in a strange assortment of long, tight trousers and a fitted tunic covered by a leather vest. It looked more like armor than clothing, though Katsuki wore it with the same comfort as Izuku did his coat. The lines of his clothes accentuated his strong shoulders and toned arms. Izuku realized he was staring a little too intensely when he saw Touya leaning over in his peripheral, the other alpha smirking.

He recognized it as a similar style to the strange clothes that Kaya had given him, clothes from his own pack. With them, he stuck out among the others, but not anymore than Shota’s dark, slightly saggy clothes nor Tsunagu’s very prim and proper robes, which were much thicker than anyone dared to wear outside of winter.

It was odd, thinking about it, but Izuku remembered being terrified for Katsuki wearing something so different, for him rejecting the robes Toshinori had given him. But even then, he’d known that Katsuki looked better like this. Wearing whatever he wished, standing tall and proud and without a damn for what anyone else thought.

Yes, he looked so much better.

Izuku turned his attention back to Shota, feeling settled as he hadn’t only minutes earlier.

Shoto, seated at Izuku’s other side as always, didn’t even really look up at Katsuki’s appearance. Rather, he seemed annoyed by Katsuki’s late arrival, as if he’d anticipated him being there earlier. He did cast a silent question at Izuku once he leaned away from whispering to Katsuki, but didn’t press the issue.

Moments later, Katsuki leaned in close again. “Tenna’s sons aren’t here.”

“No,” Izuku said simply. And it was true. Tenna seemed rather small without her sons flanking her. “I’ll tell you later.”

Satisfied, Katsuki leaned away, listening as Shota continued to speak. If he had noticed their whispered conversation, he ignored them and went on, focusing his attention instead on Enji and Mirai. Mirai had a slate in front of him that he was scribbling on, a piece of charcoal clutched in his hand. If Izuku didn’t know better, he’d say Mirai looked a bit like a child doodling to entertain himself. In truth, he could tell Mirai was deeply focused on what Shota was saying, on organizing exactly what the pack alpha was suggesting.

To be truthful, Izuku was paying more attention to Mirai than to anyone else. He’d been avoiding Izuku, though Izuku couldn’t guess why. Usually in disasters, Mirai was always there, perhaps just in the background, but there nonetheless to make sure the damage was picked up. This time, even after Toshinori had given a full account of what had happened with Izuku – explaining Katsuki’s being there as him having been stationed as a guard – Mirai hadn’t glanced toward Izuku.

Maybe he knew Izuku wanted to speak with him and this was his way of discouraging it. Of course, Izuku was beyond listening to warnings such as that. He needed to speak with Mirai. If this was going to work, he had to make sure Mirai understood he knew what he was doing. That he had listened.

So he waited as the meeting went on, as plans were made, as the packs organized, ready for the inevitable fight. Jest hadn’t gotten what he really wanted, and now they were aware of his plans. His only course of action was to attack, and when he did, they would be prepared.

Izuku sat and he listened and he noted how Shoto and Katsuki leaned forward, taking in everything. They would be part of the fighting, Izuku knew, and his stomach twisted at the thought.

In the fighting, they might not come back to him. Someone wouldn’t come back. Even if it wasn’t Shoto or Katsuki. They weren’t going to get out of this fight without losing some of their own.

Izuku swallowed the sour taste in his mouth, but it remained. The end was coming, one way or another, and it wouldn’t leave them unscathed.

One thing at a time.

Izuku breathed deeply to settle himself, felt Katsuki’s gaze flick toward him, waiting until he had settled again before turning back to the meeting.

It wasn’t a very long meeting. In the end, despite all there was to do, there were few objections. A plan was made, Mirai writing it all out and ensuring everyone knew what was expected of them. Even Shoto and Katsuki were given direct orders in the fight to come.

“You will keep my son safe,” Toshinori told them, “that is your only duty.”

Shoto bowed his head to his alpha while Katsuki growled his affirmation. Izuku felt better knowing they would be with him, though he could tell from the twist in his lip that Mirai was less than pleased. Probably because of the revelations about Katsuki. But he said nothing, kept at his work.

And even when Toshinori instructed everyone to go their own ways, to start what they could, Mirai stayed. And so did Izuku. He waited, patiently, as the room slowly emptied, as by twos and threes, everyone went off to start their tasks. Eventually, all who remained was Izuku, Katsuki, Shoto, Mirai, and Toshinori. The pack alpha lingered by the exit, glancing between Mirai and his son, and only ducking out when Mirai waved him away.

Izuku waited as the room went quiet save for Mirai’s frantic scribbling.

“If you’ve something to say,” Mirai said without looking up, “go ahead. Otherwise, I’ve other more important matters to attend.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Izuku started, and still Mirai just kept writing, “about my father needing a successor. Someone he knows will be there should he fall. Someone who will look after the pack to their dying breath. I understand the importance and having someone ready to take over for my father. But my father already has a successor.” Izuku took a breath, even as Mirai kept writing. “It’s me. I’m his successor.”

Mirai’s hand stopped. He looked up, hard eye borrowing into Izuku. But Izuku stared back unflinching, refusing to be moved by Mirai’s scrutiny. He knew the head beta would not be pleased if he squirmed under such mild searching. Being the leader of the pack would be much more difficult.

But that was what he was meant to be. What he wanted to be. What he’d been readying for, in his own way. No, he hadn’t gone through all the rigorous training and fighting as Toshinori had. But in his own way, Izuku had proven himself. And he would again and again if need be. But this was where he was supposed to be.

After a long look, Mirai went back to his scribbling as if nothing had happened. “You’ll need to see to naming a protector for the pack eventually. An alpha would be best, to balance everything out. Luckily, Enji already fills that role quite nicely and I don’t see him wanting to step aside for now. And, from what I’m to understand, you already have some prospects.” He glanced meaningfully to Shoto and Katsuki.

Izuku swallowed again, the sour taste gone. “Do you think Enji will really listen to me?”

“As much as he listens to your father,” Mirai replied dryly.

Izuku nodded. “Good enough I suppose.” He paused. “You don’t seem all that surprised.”

Mirai finished his writing and started skimming over his work. “Your father desperately wants to protect you. I understand his paternal instincts, but it was getting in the way. I wasn’t convinced you would have the strength to push past his insistence that your place in the pack was only as aeon. But I’ve been telling him for years now that he already has a successor, he just needed to start training you.”

“You—” Izuku blinked. “For years?”

Mirai nodded. “It was my insistence that finally convinced him to let you perform as solemn guard at the Moon. I thought it would be good for him to see that you were quite capable of leading the pack, as well as that the pack naturally gravitates to you anyway. Of course, it didn’t quite end the way I was expecting,” he turned a hard glare toward Katsuki, “and I gave up on the idea after you were so cowed by the incident. I started looking for someone who would work with you instead of simply coddling you to take over as leader, hoping one day you would see who the pack really needed. I knew if you let either of these two become pack alpha, they would insist on protecting you just as your father does.”

Shoto ducked his head, perhaps acknowledging Mirai’s analysis, while Katsuki bared his teeth. “Idiot. I knew he would be a great leader from the moment I met him.”

Mirai didn’t even look up at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re too close to him. If given the title of pack alpha, you would have held onto it if only to make sure Izuku didn’t get put in harm’s way.”

Katsuki growled in warning, but didn’t argue back.

Ignoring this, Mirai nodded to Shoto. “And you’ve been trained nearly since birth for the hope you would become pack alpha. No doubt Enji would love for Izuku to pick you. No doubt he’s expecting it! And because you’ve been positioned for it, whether or not you would want the position, you would take it and hold it, because that is what would be expected of you. Simple as that.”

Shoto said nothing, but Izuku could tell he was pained by Mirai’s examination. No doubt he was well aware of what his father wanted from him, even as much as he wanted to fight it. But Shoto was a man of principles, and if elevated to pack alpha, he would have done everything he could to embody that title, just as his father would have wanted.

Izuku wanted to lean into him, comfort him, but now wasn’t the time. Not with how closely Mirai was scrutinizing them all.

“This is the best case scenario,” the head beta went on, ignoring both Katsuki’s scowl and Shoto’s embarrassment. “The pack will follow Izuku. There may be some growing pains, but people respect and love him. He will make a good leader. If we make it through this conflict. Which brings me to a very important point.”

Mirai glared hard between Katsuki and Shoto. Having harried them both, neither seemed particularly happy to have the head beta’s attention on them again, but when he spoke, they immediately perked up, listening closely. “Izuku is now in your care. The future of this pack is in your care. You are to do whatever necessary to ensure his safety. This goes beyond the request of the current pack alpha to protect his son, and even beyond Izuku’s position as aeon. Both of you now hold the very future of our pack. You will keep him safe. You will ensure he is prepared to face whatever comes next. And you will sacrifice whatever necessary to see that done.”

Both Katsuki and Shoto listened, and when Mirai gave them their charge, Katsuki grinned with gleeful anticipation and Shoto lowered his chin in humble acceptance.

Only Izuku immediately stiffened. “Wait, that doesn’t seem—”

“And you, Izuku,” Mirai snapped harshly, silencing him, “will let them. Take this as your first lesson as pack leader. You will have to make very hard decisions. You will have to put yourself over others, on occasion. And you will have to trust in those you put in dangerous positions. Shoto and Katsuki are here to keep you safe. You have to let them do that. Otherwise, you’ll just make their duty all the more difficult. Get in their way at the wrong time, and you might very well get one of them killed. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

No! Izuku wanted to shout. He’d always known that the pack would protect him. That in a moment of danger, any warrior would throw themselves over him to keep him safe. But something about this felt different. More present. Real.

Alpha and Jest had targeted him. The threat wasn’t theoretical. And it would only get worse once word of his acceptance as successor got out.

As much as Izuku wanted to protest, he knew he couldn’t. He’d seen his father make difficult decisions before. He’d seen how it weighed on Toshinori. But he’d also seen what happened when his father made decisions purely for his own benefit. How many times had he chaffed under his father’s protective instincts? How many times had he thought Toshinori was making things harder for him because he wanted to keep him safe? How many times had someone else questioned the reason why Toshinori had done something for his family’s benefit?

Difficult decisions.

Izuku glanced between Shoto and Katsuki. They both met his gaze, resolute. They knew their duty as well. And they wanted this. He could feel the energy between them, all three of them.

They were ready. They were waiting for him to agree, but this was what they wanted.

Izuku closed his eyes, took a breath. Then, he met Mirai’s gaze. “Very well.”

Mirai stared hard at him, evaluated him.

Then, he set his slate aside, pressed his palms to the floor, and bowed fully to Izuku.

“Aeon. Successor,” he said with the same reverence he greeted Toshinori as pack alpha. Izuku’s skin prickled hearing it, but he kept his chin raised and waited as Mirai bowed to him. When he rose back up, the head beta gathered his things and offhandedly mentioned, “You’ll need to decide what you wish to be called. Pack omega, or something else. Inform me when you’ve made your decision.”

And leaving Izuku with that daunting task, he stood and left.

Then, the worst of it was over.

A breath escaped him in a laugh, though Izuku didn’t feel much like laughing. He suspected it was something a bit more hysterical than just a laugh and hoped no one else noticed.

To their credit, neither Shoto nor Katsuki questioned him. They were both watching him closely, in their own way, Katsuki with focused intent and Shoto with wary uncertainty.

“Is this really what you want?” Shoto asked Izuku.

Izuku met his gaze. “It is. I’m not doing this just for the pack. Though, I am also doing this for the pack.” He caught a rather narrowed glare from Katsuki at these last few words, so he added, “But I think this is what I’ve always wanted. I just didn’t know it was an option. I didn’t know… if someone like me could lead.”

Katsuki scoffed loudly and Shoto’s gaze turned dewy. “You know I would follow you wherever you went,” Shoto said seriously. It made Izuku’s throat constrict with emotion, until Shoto added, “Why else do you think I would have let you take me on those frankly stupid adventures when we were younger?”

“The one I got you hurt on?” Izuku hated how his resolve faltered at the reminder.

But Shoto only said, “Yes. Even then, I would have followed you wherever. It was the adults that told you to stop doing that.”

And he was right. It had been the admonishments of his father, and the fact Shoto had gotten hurt, that had kept him from straying too far from the village. But Shoto had never complained. Not once.

The emotion swelled again. Izuku leaned in to scent Shoto, to be scented in return. “Thank you,” he said, hoping his friend understood the gravity of his words.

“If this is what you want, then I’ll be there to help you.” There was no question. Simply, if this was the path he chose, then very well. Shoto would follow him.

Behind him, Katsuki snarled absently. Izuku had the sense he was getting a bit jealous at the sight of them scenting each other, but he also wondered if such scentings were commonplace in his pack. “Grumpy’s on board for you being leader. How are you going to tell your father?”

Izuku laughed again, a bit more hysterical. “Badly, probably. It’ll probably just pop out of me at the most inconvenient time. Though I’ll have to tell him sooner or later, because he’s going to figure out I sent Tenna’s sons with messages to other packs, and I don’t think he’s going to be very happy about that.”

Katsuki leaned closer, his previous question clear in his eyes, while Shoto nodded slowly. “I did notice they weren’t here. You sent them with messages to other packs?” Izuku could see Shoto doing the calculations in his head. With Shota and Tsunagu here, that only left two other packs not currently represented.

Izuku nodded, letting the conclusion spark in Shoto’s eyes. “I sent Tenya to Yoroi’s pack and Tensei to Shinya’s, with information on Jest’s pack and a request for assistance. I don’t know if they will respond. But… I was thinking…,” he bit his lip, not quite able to put to words the hope he clung to.

But Shoto nodded with him. “Maybe they’ll respond differently if the request comes from you, not from your father.”

“My father is a good alpha. But not everyone likes him all the time. And things have been strained recently,” Izuku conceded.

“Did you send them with information that you would be taking your father’s spot as the next leader?”

Again, Izuku bit his lip. Then, slowly, “I… told them to give the message as from our pack’s successor.”

Shoto stared at him for a long moment. Long enough that Katsuki grew impatient and laid out behind Izuku, hands tucked under his head, ankle kicked up on his knee. It was odd to have him there for a moment like this. How many times had Izuku and Shoto had these sorts of conversations, where one laid their heart to the other, hoping for help, or maybe just not to be crushed. These conversations had always been delicate affairs, each word spoken carefully, each word digested slowly. Of course, Katsuki was much too impatient for that sort of thing.

In a way, his impatience helped Shoto make a choice, spur the conversation onward with, “I think you did the right thing.”

The emotion swelled in Izuku’s throat too much to speak. Thankfully, Katsuki scoffed again and shouted, “Of course he did! You’re the one who says you think he’d be a good leader, yet you act all surprised when he does what any good leader would do!”

“It’s not your place to decide what is right or wrong for our pack leader to do,” Shoto snapped.

“Well excuse me if all I’ve seen so far is a bunch of floundering, so I’m happy to see some movement finally. Fresh blood always does the trick,” he said these last few words with a feral grin.

While clearly unhappy, Shoto didn’t deign Katsuki with a response, instead turning to Izuku. Katsuki did the same, and for the first time, the full weight of their attention sunk into him. They were waiting for orders. His orders. And he knew they would carry out those orders, the same they would Toshinori’s. Perhaps with even more dedication.

And yet, the realization settled easily. Naturally. He looked back at the two alphas, knowing they would do anything for him, and it was natural to feel the weight of that responsibility. He had felt the responsibility of their lives for so long – nearly since birth for Shoto and ever since he’d met Katsuki weeks and weeks ago – that this was just the next step. To go from worrying over their safety, their happiness, to having a direct influence on them.

His choices would be more difficult from now on. Izuku had watched his father struggle with decisions all his life. So he knew it was okay if he struggled. It was okay if he was unsure. So long as he was there, so long as Shoto and Katsuki knew where to turn to find him.

So long as they were together, everything would be okay.

Chapter Text

It didn’t feel like a village anymore. Katsuki wasn’t really sure what it felt like; certainly nothing he’d ever experienced before. Then again, when he looked around, he did feel something distantly familiar. He wondered, with a dissatisfied growl, if this was what Jest’s pack was like. To even think that, to think Jest’s pack was infecting Toshinori’s as such, deeply disturbed Katsuki. He wanted to rip something apart. Preferably Jest’s stupid face.

He seethed while Izuku patiently organized his things into his parents’ dwelling. Despite his mother’s insistence, Izuku had opted to stay in the nest for the time being, until his own dwelling could be rebuilt.

“There’s not enough room for all of us every night,” he reasoned when his mother protested. “Besides, if I get overwhelmed, I can always come here.”

Inko bit her lip, opened her mouth to argue more, then sighed. “Of course you can, sweetie.” Then she glanced at both Katsuki and Shoto, perhaps looking for support from them. When neither said anything, she said, “Whatever you want to do.”

Katsuki didn’t have to ask to know why Izuku wanted to stay in the nest, and it had nothing to do with space. The pack needed Izuku to help center them, an anchor to keep from straying. And Izuku was more than willing to give up his nights if it meant the pack slept more soundly, kept more bonded, so long as he gave them a place to come together in the nest.

But Katsuki still hated it.

As per both Toshinori’s request and Mirai’s order, Katsuki and Shoto had stayed with Izuku everywhere he went, and had no intention of letting him go anywhere without at least one of them. That meant sleeping, which was a convenient excuse for Izuku to use against his mother. But Katsuki didn’t like the idea of sleeping next to Izuku as merely being part of his duty. Short a time as it had been, he’d loved the feel of the omega next to him, curling up around one another, simply just being.

That wasn’t their lot at the moment though, and Katsuki was allowed to be a little bitter about it.

More reason to smash Jest’s stupid face in.

Izuku frowned at him, and only the suddenness of Izuku’s attention on him broke Katsuki from his seething. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’ll be better when I can destroy Jest.” Katsuki grumbled.

“Not here, you won’t!” Inko snapped. “Jest isn’t going to come anywhere near Izuku again.”

The three boys shared little looks. They each hoped that would be true. But none of them believed it.

Izuku took his mother’s hand and nuzzled into her side comfortably. “I’ll be okay, Mom. Katsuki and Shoto will take good care of me.”

“Your father can handle this,” Inko said, mostly to herself, “do we don’t have to worry.”

“I know, Mom,” Izuku said soothingly. “It’s almost supper. Why don’t we go down and see what Soren has for us today?”

Temporarily mollified, Inko let Izuku lead her toward the dining hall, Katsuki and Shoto slinking in their shadows.

Soren wasn’t in the hall when they arrived, but he stumbled in soon after, looking harried. “Sorry, sorry,” he said over and over again, “I was helping prepare stores for the warriors. It’s about the only thing I could help with.” He clenched his hands, and without meaning to, Katsuki glanced to the beta’s lame leg. He wouldn’t be much more than an obstacle in a real fight, and he knew it.

But Izuku just smiled. “Feeding everyone is more than important. No one can survive without something to eat. Thank you for making sure our warriors don’t go hungry, Soren.” He bowed to the beta, who flushed deeply and muttered something about it not being enough, then asking what they wished for supper that night.

Katsuki watched Izuku with careful fascination. Maybe no one else would notice it, but he did. How Izuku was different now. He’d embraced what Mirai had told him, even while retaining that softer edge as aeon. Would Izuku have comforted Soren just yesterday, if the beta had come to him with these worries? Of course. But his comfort may have come in more of an appreciation for the work he did for his family, not for the warriors, not for the efforts of the fight ahead.

Being the leader would change him. Katsuki didn’t know why this surprised him, but it did. And he wasn’t sure he liked that such a small thing would change Izuku, had to change him.

Suddenly, their dynamic was different. He could feel a growing distance between them. The night they had shared, he knew that would never happen again. Not once Jest and Alpha were gone. Not when things had settled. Especially not after Izuku took his father’s place.

There was no real place at Izuku’s side for a rogue, other than as a shadow. Something always present but never acknowledged.

A hand slipped into his. He startled, seeing it was Izuku’s, stared hard when the omega leaned toward him. “Are you okay?”

Without missing a beat, Katsuki asked, “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Izuku even smiled, and Katsuki could believe it. Wanted to believe it. Because maybe it was true. “I’m doing really well. But you seem a little… distant.”

“Lot going on,” he said.

“No one blames you, you know.” Izuku said. When Katsuki just stared at him, the omega clarified, “For whatever Jest and Alpha made you do. For what you did as a rogue. No one blames you. We know you wouldn’t hurt anyone here.”

“Oh. Right.” It seemed a funny thing, that he’d forgotten that little tidbit. He’d been so absorbed in watching Izuku that he’d completely missed his own place in the entire scheme.

“You’re one of us,” Izuku told him, and squeezed his hand as if sealing those words, that promise.

Katsuki knew he should simply nod. Tell the omega that he was, that he was exactly where he wanted to be, and leave it at that.

Instead, he lifted Izuku’s hand and nuzzled against his knuckles, wanting a little of their scent on each other. Just a small reminder.

Yours.

Mine.

That would have to be enough.

When Katsuki let Izuku’s hand go, Izuku only leaned in closer. Katsuki stood very still as Izuku nuzzled into his neck, just as he had to Shoto. He was there and gone, just long enough to embed his scent into Katsuki, for a bit o Katsuki to rub off on him. Then he turned and said something to Shoto, who had watched the entire affair but didn’t seem put off by any of it.

Katsuki ran a hand over the warmed skin at his neck. Maybe there was a place for him after all.

- - -

Tenya arrived before his brother. Tensei had gone out to the farther pack – Shinya’s – and would be a couple extra days, even with his enhanced speed. So it was not alarming to see Tenya arrive alone when Izuku had sent him out with his brother. It was only alarming when Tenya told him, “Alpha Yoroi has sent a message in reply. Only for you.”

Yoroi had a message for him, but not for his father. The weight of the news crashed on him harder than he’d expected, but Izuku swallowed down the lump of fear in his throat and held out his hand.

Tenya gave over a small scroll, which Izuku unwound, skimming over the few words written there. He, Tenya, Shoto, and Katsuki were sat just outside the pack nest, late in the night. The pack was already mostly in bed, the village quiet save for the warriors patrolling. Shoto seemed tired and Katsuki uninterested, but they both turned to him when Izuku rerolled the scroll.

“Alpha Yoroi is sending Malcus to speak with me.” He told the three.

“That’s good news, isn’t it?” Tenya seemed cautious, and Izuku didn’t blame him.

“He wishes for me to speak with Malcus before they agree to any cooperation with our pack against Jest and Alpha.”

Katsuki clucked his tongue. “Why do I feel like that’s not the only thing happening here?”

Izuku looked between all three of them. “He wants me to meet Malcus outside of the village.”

A pause.

“Alone?” Shoto asked.

“It doesn’t say. I suppose he wouldn’t ask that.” Not after asking to draw Izuku from the safety of the village.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, a sharper sound. “I don’t like this.”

“I must agree,” Tenya said, which was the first time Izuku could remember him agreeing with Katsuki. “It’s dangerous, shula.”

“Yes. It is.” Izuku swallowed. He could sense Katsuki’s eyes boring into his back. “But… what if I can convince him to help us?”

“What if we run into Jest as soon as we step outside the village?” Shoto countered.

“Sounds like an excellent opportunity to smash in some stupid rogue faces,” Katsuki hissed with glee.

Ignoring him, Shoto continued, “If Alpha Yoroi really wished to work with us, why send you out beyond the village?”

Izuku shook his head. “Isn’t it obvious? He wants to parlay with me. Not with my father. And as soon as Malcus steps into the village, he will be honor bound to explain himself fully to my father.”

“Do you even have the authority to conduct such negotiations?” Tenya pressed.

Although Izuku knew he was nervous about the circumstance and searching for any reason to stop him, he still bristled at the implication. “I’m the aeon. Of course I do.” Even though he wasn’t quite sure on that point – if his father had formally recognized him as successor, then yes, he absolutely would. Did that little sticking point really matter to him in this moment? No.

This was simply something he had to do.

Looking between the three alphas, he said, “Listen, I’m going to this meeting. Come with me. If something happens… if Jest appears or if you feel like something isn’t going right, then fine. I’ll leave the choice to run back to the village in your hands. But I have to try. Meeting someone halfway is the first step to diplomacy, isn’t it?” He added this last part to Tenya, who crossed his arms thoughtfully but said nothing.

“I don’t like this,” Shoto repeated. Katsuki was staring hard at Izuku, not quite agreeing with his decision but not fighting it.

“I know you don’t. But please let me do this.” In truth, there was very little Shoto could do to stop him. Save for tell his father. And maybe, if he really thought it was too dangerous, he would. He’d force the issue.

But that wasn’t Shoto’s style. And maybe Izuku was taking advantage of that. Maybe he was. But they had so little time. Malcus was set to arrive the following morning.

“We will tell everyone that we’re leaving the village,” Izuku conceded, “just not that we’re meeting Malcus. Everyone will know where we are, if something goes wrong.”

“You will have to tell everyone eventually,” Tenya said.

“I know, I know. I’m still… figuring out how to tell my father,” Izuku hurried to say. He felt like his tongue was tripping over itself, rushing to get the words out faster than people could disagree with him.

Reckless, the words hissed through his head in Mirai’s voice. Then, more scathing, Unworthy.

Childish, Touya’s voice teased. One day, you’ll grow up.

Izuku set his teeth. “If I can prove to my father that I can be a worthy successor, if I can do this, then he will have to listen to me.”

Tenya gave him a long look. “Does your father really need the proof?”

“He sees me as the aeon. An omega. Not as a leader.” Even as he said it, Izuku wasn’t sure that was the problem. That maybe the issue was he was his father’s son, not that he was the aeon. But those words were harder to form, harder to argue against. “I can do this.” He bit down on the urge to say please.

The alphas all looked at each other. A silent conversation passed between them, reluctance and trepidation, the slow understanding that they would do what they must.

When Tenya bowed his head, Izuku knew he’d gotten them. “As you wish, shula.”

- - -

Izuku knew the others expected him to speak with his father that night. To tell him, I want to do this, I need to do this. But every time Izuku saw his father, he looked a little more ragged, a little more worn away.

Your father needs a successor, Mirai had said. Izuku had believed Mirai then, but now he saw it. The weight of everything crashing down on him.

That was fine. Izuku could be his successor. He could help his father.

In the morning, when Izuku slipped into his parents’ dwelling, he found them curled up in his mother’s nest, sleeping soundly. His mother had swaddled Toshinori in too many blankets and pillows to count, then added her weight to his cocoon, a barrier between him and the world. Inko’s own way of protecting him, Izuku knew.

He scrawled out a quick note for them to find in the morning, hoping that he would be back before either of them even noticed, and slipped back out to meet the alphas at the edge of the village.

Tenya was speaking quietly to the warrior in charge of patrols, who did not look pleased in the slightest. Shoto and Katsuki were lingering nearby, both looking uncertain. Both Tenya and Shoto had dressed in dark-dyed clothes, but light enough to not get in their way. Something for moving through the brush efficiently. Tenya carried a knife at his back. While Shoto didn’t, his hands were open, ready, weapons in their own right. Katsuki was dressed similarly, though he had opted for an added leather vest, which hung loose and open at his shoulders. Izuku wondered about this, until Katsuki spotted him, walked right over, shrugged out of the vest, and slipped it onto Izuku’s shoulders instead.

“Wear this,” he demanded, then went back to Shoto to wait. Izuku pulled the vest from his shoulders, running his fingers over it. Would it be an insult if he wore armor while going to meet with Malcus? Or would he understand that they were in dangerous times?

In the end, he wore the vest under his tunic, hiding it from sight. He was also wearing his coat, the feathers newly coifed. They would do enough to protect him, he knew, but maybe Katsuki didn’t know that. Either way, the vest hugged him snuggly, and he felt a little more secure wearing it.

Drawing the hood up over his head to hide his green hair, he approached the alphas. When the warrior on patrol spotted him, he frowned deeply.

“Please let us pass,” Izuku said.

At first, he thought the alpha was going to argue. Then, he bowed his head to Izuku. “Shula. Please be careful.”

“If we’re not back within two hours, send a team to our location,” Tenya added.

He must have told the warrior where to find him, as he nodded solemnly, then stepped to the side, leaving the way open.

Izuku glanced to Shoto and Katsuki, who hung in his shadow, watching him and only him. Tenya, less used to following Izuku, hung back slightly, frowning at the entire affair. He was still unconvinced this was the right plan, and Izuku understood why. But he had to do this. Prove himself. Save his pack.

He tugged at the hem of his hood, making sure it covered his head. “Ready?” He asked.

Shoto nodded and Katsuki growled.

“All right.” Izuku took a breath, and stepped into the trees.

- - -

It took them longer than Izuku had anticipated to reach the meeting point, a small grove just beyond the patrol line the pack alphas had set up around the village. While Izuku had traveled beyond the village, many times before, it felt like he was venturing into the unknown now. Every shadow sent shivers up his arms, every falling leaf a potential enemy. Shoto, Katsuki, and Tenya circled him the entire way, a tight orbit to keep anything from getting too close to him. But all they encountered along the way were thorns and leaves and the odd rodent.

When they finally reached the meeting point, Malcus was already there. He was seated on a flat rock jutting from the root of an old tree like a knife in a wound, looking pensive with his hand on his chin. When he spotted Izuku and his entourage, he smiled widely.

“Dear aeon.” He stood and swept a bow to Izuku. “You’re looking… well perhaps less spiteful than usual, but certainly more hardened.”

Izuku swept the hood from his face, smiling tentatively at Malcus. “Things have changed since we last spoke. Things have… gotten quite a bit more fraught.”

“Indeed. I’m well aware.” Malcus glanced at Shoto, Katsuki, and Tenya in turn.

Izuku followed his gaze. “I know your message didn’t say to come alone, and I hope you don’t interpret their being here as an insult to you.”

Malcus only smiled at him. “Of course not. I would expect you to travel with someone to keep you safe.”

Izuku nodded, feeling awkward. How did Mirai and his father usually conduct these meetings? He tried to think back, and eventually straightened, thinking of how his father always looked people in the eye with his chin slightly raised, commanding to be heard. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I know this is… slightly unusual.”

Something in Malcus’s expression shifted. Izuku could track it, the lines of his face slipping downward, the smallest tilt of his chin. Behind Izuku, Katsuki leaned forward, rustling leaves under his feet. A reply, it seemed, to whatever Malcus had done, though Izuku wasn’t sure what he had done to elicit a response at all.

“Alpha Yoroi deeply respects your position as aeon, you know,” Malcus said quietly, almost reverently. “We do not have an aeon ourself, as you are aware. It’s not a position we keep in our pack. But our pack has always respected you as the aeon of our territories. I hope you know that.”

Izuku did know that. He knew not all the packs held aeon positions, but that they all respected his position as such. But something in Malcus’s words made the hair on his arm stand up. That same prickling sensation when sitting before Mirai and proclaiming himself Successor. The weight of responsibility, settling over his skin.

“Thank you, and I do know that. And now that I am Successor to my father, I hope you will hear me out as such.” Izuku continued.

Malcus smiled warmly. “Of course I would,” he said, and held out his hand, as he always did.

And as Izuku always replied, he set his hand in Malcus’s, waited as the alpha bent forward to kiss his knuckles, their ritual one so repeated over the years, he didn’t even think about it before acting.

The moment Malcus’s lips touched his knuckles, the trees above them exploded.

Izuku wasn’t sure what all happened. He heard Tenya gasp and Shoto shout his name and Katsuki’s sudden roar of fury. But more than anything, he felt a wave of fatigue roll up from his toes, through his knees, up his spine. He would have fallen, but Malcus caught up, hefted him up and held him against his chest, and then they were gone.

Running.

Malcus had snatched him up and was running away.

Izuku blinked, exhaustion dragging at his limbs even as his mind worked to understand what had just happened. In the distance, growing farther away, he could hear the alphas fighting, but he hadn’t seen who or what they were fighting. Had Jest attacked? Was Malcus taking him to safety?

No, Izuku realized as Malcus paused to get a better grip on his limp body, an arm under his knees, across his back, held tight against Malcus’s chest. That wasn’t Jest and Alpha.

Vaguely, he knew something of Malcus’s blessing. A gift that left all who stood before him easy prey. His father had never gone into detail, simply told him there was a reason Malcus had to be so charming, so personable. He had to be able to get close to incapacitate his enemy.

A kiss to the knuckle, so casually ingrained in their interactions, turned into a weapon.

“I’m sorry about this, Aeon,” Malcus whispered. Izuku tried to look up at him but his head only rolled limply toward Malcus’s chest.

Why? Izuku wanted to ask. He wanted to rip himself free, run back to Shoto and Tenya and Katsuki. Help them. Save them from whatever was attacking them. Malcus had set them up and now someone was hurting his packmates because of him.

A low growl hissed out between his teeth and Malcus laughed, though it was humorless.

“Yes, I know. I’ve earned your spite, and I hope you will understand.” He paused suddenly, digging his heels in, and spun out of the way.

A second later, something crashed into the forest floor in a rain of heat and smoke. Katsuki.

The name was thick on Izuku’s tongue. Malcus took several steps back as Katsuki emerged from the smoke. His teeth were set and his eyes were wide, pupils dangerous slits. His palms were still smoking.

“Hey,” he snarled out the word, his voice distorted with his fury, “what do you think you’re doing?”

Malcus sighed, shifting Izuku to one arm, drawing his sword with his freed hand. “I knew you were going to be a problem. You should let us pass, if you care at all for this omega.”

“This omega?” Katsuki snapped his teeth together.

“I don’t know where you think your loyalties lie,” Malcus continued, “but I’ll let no harm come to the Aeon. Not even from you.”

Katsuki barked out a laugh, and launched himself forward.

A shadow intercepted.

It was so fast that Izuku couldn’t quite comprehend exactly what he was looking at. From one second to the next, Katsuki was leaping toward them, coming to the rescue.

The next, a dark curtain fell from the treetops, and Katsuki disappeared right into it.

Whatever spell Malcus held over him couldn’t keep the spike of adrenaline from ripping through Izuku. He howled and shoved himself free of Malcus’s grip, reaching desperately for the curtain of shadow – Jest, this is Jest’s doing – only for it to vanish as quickly as it had arrived, and in its place, there he stood.

Jest. A knife twisting in his hand, a smile laced with venom on his face.

Izuku’s head throbbed, his vision narrowing. He didn’t have a weapon, so he threw himself at Jest. This time, he would rip the beta apart. This time, he would throw Jest in the mud and make him give Katsuki back.

A hand on his arm stopped him short, and all the energy rushing through his body leaked out before Izuku could shake Malcus’s grip. He stumbled off his feet and nearly fell on his face, only for Malcus to scoop him back up.

“You did well,” Jest said as Malcus shifted Izuku to a more comfortable position.

Slowly, Malcus rose, turning to put himself between Jest and Izuku. “I don’t do this for you. I am only following the orders of my alpha.”

“And your alpha’s done well to send you.” Jest bowed, an actor at the end of a play. “We’ll send a representative to your pack to speak more. But your end of the bargain has been met.”

Malcus growled low, a warning. “Do not patronize me,” he warned. Izuku could feel something rumbling through his chest, something like a growl but much deeper.

Jest held up his hands. “I mean no insult! But you can understand. Our union is tenuous at best.”

“At best,” Malcus repeated. “Now leave. I will ensure the Aeon’s care.”

Jest bowed deeply, then dissolved into shadows, there and gone. And Katsuki? Katsuki stayed gone.

Izuku shuddered, trying to wrest control of his body back. But he was so tired. Almost at the twilight of sleep, when his body lay still and his mind was dragging through the last few thoughts before dreams.

“Why?” He managed to hiss.

Malcus shifted. He wouldn’t look down at Izuku. “This is for your own good. For the good of the territory.” He paused as something crashed in the distance, then ducked lower to the ground and hurried away, taking Izuku with him.

Chapter Text

Malcus met up with another group of warriors a few miles away, where they packed Izuku up on a stretcher and buried him in warm blankets and soft pillows. A luxury, if he wasn’t stuck in the prison of his own body. From time to time, Malcus reached out to press a hand to his forehead, or to kiss his knuckles, to mutter a few words of apology or encouragement. To keep him from fighting back.

It was torturous in a way Izuku could have never conceived before. Malcus and his packmates clearly wanted to make sure he was comfortable, even as they stripped him of choice and autonomy. They placed him like a beloved treasure, to be admired and cared for but never to be interacted with beyond that. They thought they were treating him kindly.

All Izuku could think about was Katsuki disappearing through the shadow veil, about Shoto and Tenya fighting some foe, about his father, and how he would soon discover that his son was gone.

And Jest. He kept thinking about Jest. And about what he’d said to Malcus.

His end of their bargain, complete.

Malcus and his pack had made a deal with Jest and Alpha’s pack. They had set this up in tandem with the rogue pack. This was their doing.

Once, as a spark of energy broke through the constant lethargy, when Malcus leaned over to adjust Izuku’s blankets, to shift him, to try to make him comfortable, Izuku seized that bit of energy.

His hand snatched out, grabbed the hilt of Malcus’s sword, pulled it nearly free before anyone could react. Then, Malcus’s hand gripped his wrist and the energy drained out of him again, the sword slipping from his fingers.

He wanted to cry out, in frustration and fear and desperation. But he refused to show weakness to Malcus and his packmates.

Even after this little stunt, Malcus simply tucked Izuku’s hand back under his blankets and apologized to him once more, then they set out again.

Izuku knew the borders between territories was vast. Malcus’s pack laid on an outlying strip of land just beyond the farthest edges of Toshinori’s territory, and beyond that lay Alpha Shinya’s pack. Izuku wasn’t entirely sure what was beyond their territories. Truth be told, he’d never been so far from home. But he did know it would take them several days to reach Alpha Yoroi’s village, a prospect that made his skin prickle. Would they make him exist in this half-sleep state the entire time? Would they starve him out like this? Drive him mad by keeping him trapped in an unmoving body?

But as night started to fall, as the forest grew dark around them, Izuku heard the telltale noises of a gathering of people.

They stepped into a shadowed grove, right at the edge of the river that ran through their territories. It was little more than a stream this far out, a finger off the main branch, the trees grown tall and wide until they covered the sky in a dappled canopy.

Izuku didn’t know where the borders were exactly. But he knew they weren’t at Yoroi’s village. And yet, small dwellings rose up around them, and Malcus and his packmates brought him into the center of a small gathering. As they passed, Izuku caught glimpses of warriors standing around, cleaning weapons, stitching armor.

This wasn’t a village. This was a war camp.

The largest of the dwellings was much more structured than any of the others, much more like the dwellings of Izuku’s village than the small, collapsible tents scattered around the grove. Malcus swept inside first, then the others brought Izuku through on his stretcher.

“Alpha,” he heard Malcus’s low voice, heavy and somber, “we return.”

Izuku opened his eyes as much as he could, staring up at a thatch ceiling, the supporting beams crudely cut branches from nearby trees. He couldn’t see anything else.

“Wake him,” a deep rumble of a voice commanded. Izuku shivered. He’d never met Alpha Yoroi before, but he knew without even seeing him that he was in the presence of the pack alpha.

Malcus dipped into view, taking Izuku’s hand once more. Instead of draining away his energy, warmth and feeling seeped back into his limbs, enough that Izuku was able to jerk his hand free of Malcus’s grip, to push himself to his hands and knees, to raise his head and get a better sense of where he was.

Alpha Yoroi sat before him on a raised dais, a simple folded blanket under his knees. He was dressed in armor, a sheathed sword leaned against the wall behind him, another at rest on the floor right next to his hand. His face, weathered and grayed, was shadowed by a great helm. Still, Izuku could feel the pack alpha’s gaze on him.

The small, omega part of him wanted to cower before this alpha, this leader who was not his own. An enemy alpha. The rest of him wanted to leap up and who knew whether he’d start shouting or attack someone or burst into tears.

But now was not the time to lose control. Izuku had never been in a position like this. His father had always protected him, his pack had always been with him. Always within reach. Now, they were far away. Farther away than he’d ever been in his life. He was navigating a space he’d never thought he’d find himself in, not in his worst nightmares. Even with the threat of Jest and Alpha looming over them, Izuku had never imagined he’d find himself alone.

He was the heart of the pack. Their core, their center. The pack revolved around him. He was never without the pack, not even since his birth.

Now, he was alone. Completely.

But he was still the aeon. Still his father’s Successor. He was still his father’s son.

So he pushed himself to his knees, mirroring Alpha Yoroi’s posture, keeping his expression stern and unafraid. He showed no deference to the pack alpha. He showed no weakness. He merely met Yoroi’s gaze, as if he wasn’t aware of the room around him, of Malcus and other warriors at his back, watching him.

“Why?” Izuku spoke first, even though he should have let Yoroi speak.

Alpha Yoroi tipped his head forward. Not quite a bow. Maybe an acknowledgment. Although Izuku didn’t know enough about him to really know.

Then, the alpha picked up the sword at his side, and drew it.

Everything in Izuku panicked. He couldn’t stop himself from hunching slightly, cowering, readying to run, even though he knew there was nowhere to go. If Yoroi wanted to kill him, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Then, Yoroi gripped the naked blade with his hand, and swept hard. Blood splattered against the wall, dripped onto the floor. Yoroi presented his slashed palm to Izuku, let his blood run between his fingers and pool between them.

The quiet susurration of blades leaving sheaths echoed behind Izuku, and a collective hiss told him that every warrior who had brought him before Yoroi had done the same as their alpha, spilling their blood before him. A terrible dripping pitter-pattered in his ears. It took all his focus to keep his eyes on Alpha Yoroi, to not turn and confirm what he suspected was a terrible deluge behind him.

Their blood spilled, Yoroi produced a cloth from somewhere under his armor and began cleaning his sword. “Dismissed.”

Izuku half hoped this was to him – some strange ritual that Yoroi needed to carry out – and that he was now on his way home, but the warriors behind him shuffled to their feet before he could move. Again, he kept his focus on Yoroi, letting him command his warriors as he would but giving him no power over what Izuku did. He didn’t know what Yoroi would do if he stood and went to walk out. But something told him that was not the right approach to whatever was happening.

Once they were alone, Yoroi sheathed his sword and set it aside again. “Terrible times,” he grumbled, as if he had any right to commiserate with Izuku.

A growl crawled up his throat before he could stop it, and Yoroi leaned his elbows onto his knees. “Yes. We’ve done you wrong. We have acted with duplicity. Not our usual tactic. Not our idea. But your message presented an opportunity.”

“To betray us?” Izuku challenged.

“In a way.” Yoroi studied him. “Speak, aeon. I will hear your thoughts.”

Izuku felt his teeth grinding. “What makes you think you deserve to hear what I think? You’re the one who owes me an explanation.”

Yoroi nodded. “We will explain. As much as we can. We’re simply waiting for one last participant.” He paused. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Izuku considered this. It was always polite to accept an offer of tea, food less so. The first steps in any negotiation was to meet the physical needs of the participants, to make them as comfortable as possible. He was used to this. Used to sending for tea and spend a moment savoring the heated cup in his hands, breathing in the calming aroma.

Suddenly, desperately, he missed Soren.

“Tea is fine,” he said.

Yoroi whistled sharply and a servant ducked through the entryway behind Izuku. He allowed himself to turn for the first time, surveying the servant. Even she was dressed in warrior garb, and just beyond her, he saw Malcus and another warrior standing guard. If he tried to leave, he knew he would be stopped.

As soon as the servant disappeared, another alpha stepped through the entryway. Izuku’s skin prickled at the sight of him. Tall, masked, thin and sharp as a blade. The last of the pack alphas. Alpha Shinya.

“Aeon,” he pressed his hands together and bowed to Izuku, a very formal greeting from his own pack. Although Izuku had never met Alpha Shinya before, he understood that this gesture was exceedingly deferential. It irked some part of him how much Yoroi and Shinya were trying to placate him. Apologizing as if it were so simple to forgive them.

“Alpha,” Izuku greeted shortly and without any formal gestures in reply.

Alpha Shinya sat near to Yoroi, not quite within reach of his sword. “I am glad to see you’ve arrived unharmed.”

All his patience snapped at once and Izuku bared his teeth and a snarl rippled through his throat. “I was brought here against my will. I extended a message in good faith, and in the same good faith received your invitation to speak. And this is what you reply with?”

“It is better this way,” Shinya said, unapologetic. “You would not have agreed to speak with us so far from home. And your father would have never allowed it.”

“So you think this is better?” Izuku snapped. “Not to mention, I have seen your warriors actively working with the rogue pack who threatens our territory. You helped them to take one of my pack!”

Something dangerous crossed Yoroi’s face. Even shadowed under his helm, Izuku could see the shift in his demeanor, and he refused to back down in the face of it. “Who has the rogue pack harmed? We did not agree to allowing them to touch any of your pack.”

“Our newest member,” Izuku said, “Katsuki.”

“The rogue?” Shinya sounded surprised.

Izuku hissed. “He isn’t a rogue. He is ours.” He is mine, Izuku nearly said.

“The rogue does not concern us,” Yoroi dismissed, even as Izuku hissed.

“He concerns me,” Izuku pressed.

Yoroi simply nodded. “Yes. I was afraid of that.”

Izuku glared between the two alphas, watching as they observed him, as they looked down at him. But he refused to let himself belittled in their eyes.

So he said again, “Why?”

Yoroi ran a hand down his beard. “I will be direct. We have brought you here to preserve your position, your title. In what comes next, be assured you will retain your place as aeon, of all our territories, all our packs. We hold great respect for you, and we wish to impart that we always will.”

“Why should I trust anything you say?” Izuku snapped. “Why would you think I’d wish to work with you now that you’ve done this?”

“Because you are gracious, and you would not punish our packs for our actions. You see individually, not as a whole, and that is why we respect you so.” He paused. “And, I’m afraid, you won’t have much choice soon enough.”

Izuku’s skin prickled. He wanted to growl and bare his teeth, but he knew that wouldn’t help his situation any. So he said, “Tell me why you have done this.”

Yoroi glanced to Shinya, who was only watching Izuku, his gaze pointed and unnerving in a way Izuku couldn’t quite place.

After a pause, Yoroi nodded. “I said I would be direct, and so I shall. We intend to kill Alpha Toshinori.”

The word stuttered through Izuku, each one separately, so he couldn’t quite piece them together immediately.

Kill.

Alpha.

Toshinori.

Surely they didn’t mean his father? Surely they didn’t mean they actually wanted to kill him?

“Who?” Izuku said.

Yoroi dipped his head, an examining motion.

It was Shinya who spoke up, “You should understand, we do not mean harm to your pack. We will minimize damage where we can. But Toshinori has failed us. The entire territory. And it is time for new blood to be put in place.” He inclined his chin toward Izuku. “We mean you, of course. We respect you enough not to impose one of our own. But this farce has gone on long enough. We cannot stand it any longer.”

“What?” Izuku said. He couldn’t quite string together more than one word at a time.

“You are young,” Yoroi rumbled, “you do not know the ways of our territory. This is… unfortunate, but not unheard of. Sometimes, the old must give way to the young, and if they refuse, then they must be removed. One way or another.”

“How?” Izuku said. He wasn’t quite asking. Mostly, it was the only word that came to mind at the moment.

“We will inform him of your presence with us,” Shinya said simply, “and offer him a chance to duel. The duel will be a fair one. But if he wins, the rogues will dispatch him afterward. Once he is dead, we will release you back to your pack as compensation for his death.” He paused as someone called from outside. The warrior returned with the tea.

The tea was served quietly, a cup placed directly into Izuku’s hands when he didn’t otherwise acknowledge it.

“Please drink, aeon. It will help you feel better after your long travel,” the warrior told him.

Izuku traced her words. Traced how she had given them each a separate pot and separate mug and both alphas were watching him closely again. The warrior waited a moment, but when Yoroi nodded, she left.

Once she was gone, Izuku stared at Shinya until he continued, “In the meantime, we are hoping to negotiate new terms with you, since you have been chosen as the new Successor.”

“I’m not.”

Both alphas paused.

Izuku gripped his mug tightly, wishing he had the strength to shatter it. Like his father. “I lied. I’m not actually my father’s successor. He hasn’t officially named me as such.”

This gave both alphas a pause, but not for long. Yoroi nodded. “The others will follow you. It is natural. You are the Alpha’s son.”

“They will know you installed me for your own purposes. That you will have negotiated with me beforehand and that all I will be is a puppet for you to control.”

“That is not our intention. We know that—”

The small, fragile part of Izuku still holding it together snapped so suddenly that he had leaped to his feet and thrown his mug before he even realized it. All he saw was the sudden snap of Yoroi’s hand, the whisper of a blade unsheathing, and the crack as the mug snapped against the flat of the alpha’s sword and broke into pieces.

In an instant, warriors pressed in at Izuku’s back, but none of them dared to touch him.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” Izuku was shouting. He couldn’t stop himself. He could barely keep himself from running at the alphas and attacking them. Only the sight of Yoroi’s naked blade stopped him. “You want to kill my father and you think I’ll work with you?! And what about the rogues! You’re working with them!”

Yoroi grimaced, but sheathed his blade as Shinya said, “Unfortunate, but necessary. We do not like involving the outsiders anymore than you do. But they have offered us an opportunity. And we can no longer afford to ignore your father’s transgressions against us.”

“What are you talking about?” Izuku hissed. “My father is a great Alpha! He has sacrificed so much for the good of the territory!”

“Yes,” Shinya said slowly, and something in the low hiss of his voice stilled Izuku. “He has sacrificed much. And mostly, he has sacrificed much from our packs.”

What was it that struck Izuku cold? He could sense something in the alpha’s words, but he didn’t know Shinya enough to pick out exactly what it was. Still, he found he couldn’t speak, found he couldn’t move.

Yoroi gestured for the warriors to leave and they did, albeit reluctantly. Again, a cup was poured from the pot at Izuku’s knee and pushed into his hands. Izuku immediately upended the cup and then the pot for good measure. Without missing a beat, Yoroi procured a mug from his own stash and poured Izuku a measure from his own pot. When he offered it, Izuku took it, almost numbly. He recognized an offering when he saw one, and he saw that Yoroi was trying.

Somehow, knowing Yoroi thought he was doing something just, that he was trying in his own way to make things right, made everything feel so much worse.

Still, Izuku accepted the tea, holding it in his hands. It was warm, but he felt numb to the comfort a warm cup of tea usually gave him. After all, it hadn’t been Soren who had handed that cup to him.

“You know,” Yoroi said slowly, with thought to every word, “about the outlying packs. We who stand between the wild and the territory. We have seen rogues and rebels and feral things for generations. Our warriors are used to spilling blood. Our warriors are used to having their blood spilled.”

Izuku said nothing. He knew, on some level, that the outlying packs were a buffer for the rest of the territory. That Yoroi’s and Shinya’s packs were at the very frontier of the territory, and beyond that, Izuku didn’t know much of what the world might look like. But Tsunagu’s pack also sat at the edge of the territory, he was constantly dealing with rogues, and he had found his own way to incorporate them. Tsunagu was helping them. Izuku had only ever heard of Shinya and Yoroi killing rogues. Until now.

Izuku couldn’t help but think of this one little fact as Yoroi kept speaking, “In truth, recent years have been increasingly difficult. More rogues, more ferals. We’ve lost too many people. And no matter how much we tell Toshinori, he offers us no solutions. He’ll send us weapons, sure. Happy to watch our people fight for him. But he won’t help us find the problem, stamp it out.”

“You’re complaining about rogues yet you’re willing to work with an entire rogue pack?” Izuku snapped.

Shinya shook his head. “The rogue pack is nothing like those we’ve seen in recent years. They might not be settled, but they are organized enough to be considered a pack. Not like the mad creatures that we’ve been seeing recently.”

“What creatures?” Izuku snapped. He hadn’t heard of anything of the like.

“It’s what happens after you’ve completely lost yourself,” Yoroi said solemnly, almost with a touch of grief. “Once you’ve gone beyond being a rogue, when you’ve given yourself over to the most base instincts, you’re not really a person anymore. You’re more like an animal. A feral creature willing to destroy anything in its way and take whatever it wishes. Nothing can bring you back. And we’ve seen plenty of ferals in our time.”

Ferals.

Izuku’s skin prickled. He’d heard of people going feral, of losing control in very short instances. But this felt more permanent. A state of being feral that went on and on and on. A never ending spiral into madness.

Could that really happen to someone? He’d never heard of it before. Then again, would his father really have told him about such things? Or would he have wanted to protect Izuku, as he always did?

What if… what if Shinya and Yoroi were telling the truth?

He didn’t want to think about that. Nothing could justify them wanting to kill his father. He knew that, at the core of his being, as a son, aeon, and human being. There had to be another way.

“Why team up with the rogues?” Izuku challenged. “They’ve been attacking us. You’ve seen the damage they’ve done. One of your own saved me from one of the rogues!”

Shinya nodded. “Yes, Shade. They did well to protect you. And that was before we officially made pacts with the rogues. Since then, we’ve made a deal with them. We will help them stabilize their pack, and they will help us remove Toshinori. It is better, if the rogue pack does it.”

“You’re the one allowing it!” Izuku snapped.

“There is no other way.” Yoroi said simply.

Izuku wanted to scream. It was like they had already given up. That they weren’t willing to try anything else. How was this the simplest course of action for them? Why did they think this was to their benefit?

Something prickled at the edge of Izuku’s senses. A feeling of being watched, perhaps, or a feeling of something looming over him.

Jest’s hand was in this. And if he knew anything, he knew Jest was craftier than any of them had expected.

“Now is not the time to negotiate, it seems,” Yoroi said when Izuku sat there, glaring at them. “Know this, aeon. We will care for you here. You will not go without, nor will we allow anyone to harm you. All we ask is that you stay in the camp and, when the time comes, that you will hear our request.”

“A request to let you kill my father?” Izuku bared his teeth, unable to control himself anymore.

If the alphas took offense, neither of them replied in kind. “I know this is difficult for you. I would not pretend otherwise. We have presented you with an impossible choice, we know. The truth of the matter is, we will see Toshinori dead. His time has come. What you do next will be your choice. We have no qualms with you and your own, beyond Toshinori. We believe you will do better for the territory as a whole.”

“What makes you think,” Izuku said slowly, “that I won’t send the warriors to destroy your packs for this.”

Yoroi lowered his head. This time, Izuku’s skin prickled with danger. “Because,” the old alpha said, “you are not that stupid.”

The threat hung between them like a noose. Izuku swore he was suddenly having trouble breathing, even though he knew perfectly well that he was fine.

In the corner, Shinya watched and he said nothing to contradict Yoroi. Last Izuku had heard, their two packs weren’t getting along at all. And yet, here they were.

The feeling of being watched trickled over Izuku’s neck again. Jest. Jest had done this. He had brought them together, somehow. Something even Toshinori hadn’t been able to do.

Or, maybe more accurately, something he simply hadn’t tried to do. Izuku remembered his father mentioning leaving Shinya and Yoroi to sort out their differences themselves. Autonomy for the packs, he had insisted. And yet, it sounded like both outlying packs had been suffering the entire time. Fighting amongst themselves and whatever outside threat was increasingly tapping at their borders.

They had legitimate complaints. Izuku could see that. And he knew those were what Jest had used to get them to this conclusion.

And he knew, without a doubt, that Jest would appear to him as soon as he was alone, and he would whisper in Izuku’s ear all he wanted to hear, just as he had done with Shinya and Yoroi.

They were all puppets dangling on his strings.

Izuku swallowed. Best to get that conversation over with, so he knew where he stood and what Jest would offer him. He needed all the information possible if he was going to do something about this situation. And, best not to anger the Alphas anymore. They were right. Now was not the time to negotiate.

He turned away. “I’d like to be alone for now.”

Yoroi simply stared, but Shinya nodded. “You will be provided lodgings. Inform us if you wish for anything at all. One of my pack and one of Yoroi’s will attend you.”

Izuku said nothing to this, but when Yoroi called for Malcus to show him to his lodgings, he followed without trying to fight. As they walked through the camp, all eyes trailed over him, careful of his movements. Whispers of half-greetings and apologies followed him, heads bowed in reverence. Almost no one looked at him with contempt. Maybe that was a good sign, but Izuku could hardly think about that.

All he really could imagine in that moment was sticking a knife in Malcus’s back, just as he had done to Izuku. But that would solve nothing. And, if Izuku really let himself think, he knew Malcus had only been following orders. He was, after all, the perfect person to ensure no harm came to Izuku on their trip back to camp. Yoroi really had wanted to make sure he was delivered uninjured, when he could have been much more violent.

Still, as he walked, Izuku kept wondering what had happened to Shoto and Tenya, and where Katsuki had gone, and where Tensei could be. They had all been following his orders, and now all of them had been put in danger.

Maybe he really wasn’t cut out to be the Successor after all.

Malcus led him to one of the larger dwellings in the camp, and when Izuku stepped inside, he could tell it had been constructed with comfort in mind. It had been built for him. They had planned this all out enough to prepare a dwelling for him, complete with a nest of blankets and pillows in the corner and a table where negotiations might reasonably take place at the center of the room, along with a few other comforts not normally found within a war camp.

Izuku felt sick just looking at it all.

Malcus bowed to him. “I shall be outside, if you require anything else.”

Izuku said nothing, waiting until Malcus left before he sat at the table, waiting. He knew Jest would arrive soon. He knew the shadows would part and he would step through them, and he might smile that scorpion smile and tell him it was time to talk.

Izuku swallowed down his revulsion. He had little other choice. He simply sat and he waited, and when the shadows shivered in the corner, he was prepared.

Chapter Text

Jest arrived bearing gifts. He stepped from the shadows with a bag slung over his shoulder, which he carefully placed in front of Izuku.

It had been hours since his talk with the Alphas. Through a ventilation slit in the ceiling, Izuku could see it was dark now, that it had been a full half day since he’d been taken from his pack, that the pack would spend their first night since his birth without him nearby. Even the thought of it exhausted him.

Jest went over to the rope holding the slit open and pulled it shut. Closing them against the dark and whoever might hear more than one voice whisper through the vent.

“You’re looking unwell, aeon.” Jest didn’t sound pleased when he said it, and for once, he wasn’t smiling.

Izuku sat at the table still, tracking Jest’s movements with the barest tilt of his head. “Where is Katsuki?”

“With my pack. Awaiting your arrival.” Jest settled at the table across from Izuku, laying out the stage for their negotiation.

It was a simple tactic, really. I have something you want. You have something we want. The exchange should be simple. Izuku for Katsuki.

But Izuku couldn’t help but remember what Katsuki had told him, that he was too eager to throw himself away.

“Have you hurt him?” Izuku asked.

“As little as we could.” Jest shrugged. “He wasn’t happy to end up in our care again, at first. But he’s settled now.”

“Are you going to hurt him?”

“We have no reason to.”

But that wasn’t true. Because the hurt Izuku spoke of was not the same as Jest’s interpretation. All Izuku could think about was the terror in Katsuki’s eyes when Alpha had strode through their dining hall, how he had cowered then attacked like an animal, desperate and terrified. Izuku didn’t want to think about how Katsuki might be feeling at that moment.

So he turned his attention to Jest, sitting across from him as if they were friends meeting over midnight tea. The beta pushed the pack toward Izuku, an invitation. Izuku was tempted to throw it into the fire, but he wanted to know what this rogue pack could possibly think he’d want as a gift. Or, rather, if their gift would simply be a threat.

When Izuku opened the pack, he was met with a length of cloth that took him a second to discern. It was furred on the inside with a heavy, tough outer layer. Picking at the material, Izuku couldn’t quite place what it was, though the fur looked like wolf. There weren’t many wolves left in their forest, but Izuku had heard stories Kaya had told of her mate finding other forests still rife with them, of packs that worshipped the wolves as guardians of the forest and noble creatures to be emulated.

He wasn’t sure what to think of Jest handing him the furred remains of a creature sacred to other packs, packs that might not be so far from his own.

The outside layer was harder to place. It felt a bit like leather, but it was tougher while still retaining its flexibility. He could tell the coat would be incredibly comfortable to wear. But he knew it for what it was meant to be: a replacement.

The feathered coat he’d always worn ruffled on his shoulders. Yoroi and Shinya, nor any of their warriors, had touched it. They knew its meaning, after all, and they seemed to respect it as much as they respected Izuku. And yet, here was Jest, offering a replacement.

Izuku might have thrown it straight into the fire, if not for the trinket that rolled out of it when the cloth unraveled. It clattered to the table, startling him, again when he recognized it.

During the Moon, during the struggle with the rogues, Izuku had lost his knife, but he had also lost the mask used by the solemn guard. The blank, benevolent face peering back at him. Except, not so blank anymore.

The blank spaces on the clay face had been carved with intricate patterns, a layer of swirls and angles, painted over with greens and reds and yellows. It was beautiful. Izuku could admit the craftsmanship was delicate and precise and absolutely exquisite. But it wasn’t the mask of his pack anymore. It wasn’t the empty, open face of the solemn guard.

It was another abomination of his pack, another replacement.

“We thought we would return it to you, just as we returned your knife,” Jest said as Izuku examined the mask. “But we also thought it might be nice to show you what we would be willing to give you. If you agreed to come with us. You think your pack can spoil you? You will have everything you wish for, anything you demand. Including your chosen alpha.”

Jest’s tone shifted, low and threatening, and Izuku jerked back. He meant Katsuki, of course. Bait, dangled on a hook. The line drawn out with the furred coat and defaced mask. A perfect string leading right to Jest’s hand.

“My aeon only wishes to speak with you,” Jest continued, “and I think you want to hear what they have to say.”

“You did this,” Izuku said.

“Well, not personally. There’s a wonderful carver in our pack. He did the majority of the work.”

“Not this,” Izuku tossed the mask aside. It clattered heavily across the table, then dropped to the ground. “You turned the outlying packs against my father.”

Jest set his chin in his palm. “Do you really think,” he said slowly, “I did anything but encourage them toward their own natural conclusion?”

Izuku set his jaw as Jest took the furred coat and laid it flat between them, showing off its length, that it was just as beautiful as the mask. “Here is the truth, aeon. You cannot convince someone of what they do not already want. But everyone wants something they don’t even notice. Take our newest alpha, for example,” he paused when Izuku bristled, “he is desperate for belonging. He so very much wants to find a place to call his own. At his old pack, he was stifled by the wants of his mother, the disappointment of his temper, the disregard of his strength. They wanted to mold him. All he wanted was a place where he could be himself and still be useful. And isn’t it so lovely that you gave that to him, even when he refused to ask for it himself.”

Izuku shoved his hands under the table so Jest couldn’t see they were clenched, his knuckles white and straining. Punching the beta wouldn’t do any good. Let Jest talk as much as he wanted. So long as he kept revealing information that Izuku could use.

“What do you want?” Izuku asked.

Jest looked at him with the same hunger as a starving man set before a feast. “I told you. Our aeon wishes to speak with you.”

“And if I do what you want. What will you do?”

“What would you wish us to do?” Jest leaned forward. Izuku swore he could see the beta salivating. “You could ask for anything from us, and we would obey.”

“I want you to stop this. Don’t kill my father. Tell the others not to kill him!”

Something pitying crossed Jest’s face, something that made his smile feel less hungry and more forgiving, as if Izuku was a small child that simply didn’t understand. “I already told you. This wasn’t our idea. Not completely. We simply encouraged the wants already instilled in these packs. They wanted to see change. And the easiest way is to get rid of the person who refuses to change. Nothing is going to stop these packs from trying to kill your father. Although,” he paused, let the hook hang between them. Izuku swore Jest just enjoyed watching him take the bait and hang himself. “If that is what you truly want, we can still ensure your father’s safety. We would be more than willing to fight with your father, rather than against him, if that is what you wish.”

“You would kill Shinya and Yoroi and their packs,” Izuku said simply. He didn’t need Jest’s confirmation. He knew what that hunger meant.

And still, Jest shrugged, a casual dismissal. The lives stacked in front of him as meaningless as the leaves he trampled on during his daily walks. “There will be bloodshed, aeon. You dragged your feet too long. You forced our hand. Now, you have to make a choice.” He picked the mask up and set it on top of the coat, facing Izuku. Replacement. A new identity. “Think about it. But know that either way, you will have to speak with our aeon before we can agree to help you. But rest assured, whatever your wish, we can ensure it. We can stop these packs from killing your father. Or, we can do our part and ensure your father dies. And maybe that will be for the best. Maybe you need room for ascension, and maybe that is what you really want?”

“Get out,” Izuku hissed. “Leave me alone.”

Jest shrugged, stood. “I’ll return in three days. Your father is aware of what has happened to you, and the challenge will reach him tomorrow. In four days, the challenge will take place. So make your choice before that night. My aeon, and your chosen alpha, will be waiting.”

Izuku refused to watch as Jest stepped through the shadows, as he disappeared, leaving the defaced mask and the new coat laid out in front of him.

He thought, somewhat distantly, that Jest had never once referred to Katsuki by his name.

- - -

Izuku didn’t try to sleep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to. Everything that had happened weighed on him, the reality of his situation so dreadful that he didn’t know where to start.

He knew it would be easy to simply allow Jest to take him to see his aeon. To speak with the rogue pack’s leader and try to negotiate something between them. But he also knew that the choices would still be the same: either save his father and condemn Yoroi’s and Shinya’s packs to death, or let his father be killed and save more lives for it. He felt sick just thinking about it.

He could try to negotiate with Shinya and Yoroi, who seemed more reasonable, but he didn’t think they would really listen to him. Jest had already convinced them their path was correct. They would expect Izuku to resist. They wouldn’t be swayed so easily when they had already come so far.

And, if he didn’t go to the rogue pack, he was condemning Katsuki to their clutches. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that thought hurt nearly as much as the deaths looming just a few sunsets away.

Izuku wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up and bury his head in his coat and pretend that everything wasn’t crumbling around him, that he was home, safe and sound, and nothing bad was about to happen. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t show weakness.

Alert as he was, Izuku heard the shifting just outside his dwelling late into the night. At first he thought it was the guards posted to ensure his safety, according to Yoroi, though they were also certainly there to make sure he didn’t try to run. But the shifting sounded most prevalent at the back of his dwelling. Izuku listened, holding his breath, as the shifting increased to a short whine, and suddenly a shadow loomed over the ventilation shaft. A hand shoved the covering aside and a body dropped into the dwelling, so sudden and so startling that Izuku nearly yelped. But a scent rolled over him, so familiar that he nearly cried out for a different reason.

“Tensei!” Izuku whispered.

Tensei lifted his head toward the entrance, no doubt listening for movement from the guards, but when no one came to investigate, he reached for Izuku, and Izuku took his hands. “Are you all right, shula?”

“My father! Is he okay?”

Tensei frowned. “I haven’t been back to the pack. I found out they planned to take you, and only just managed to get away. I came straight to find you.”

Izuku swallowed. Tensei’s loyalties and intuition had been right – in any other circumstance, it would have been the correct move to find his kidnapped aeon. But this situation was so much more complicated than just Izuku.

“I’m fine, but Shinya and Yoroi want to kill my father.”

Tensei’s expression darkened, and something about it made Izuku shiver. Of the two brothers, Tensei had always been the more carefree, the one more likely to smile first, and the one who made everyone around him more at ease, just through his presence. Izuku had never seen that look on his face before.

“And what do they plan to do with you?” He asked.

“Nevermind that. You have to get back to the pack and warn my father,” Izuku hissed.

Tensei considered this carefully, then nodded. “We’ll have to be quick. If you hold onto my back, I think I can speed us both out of here before anyone can react. We’ll have to be careful until we get back to the pack though; Shinya has a couple of warriors with blessings that could catch up to us.”

Us, we, us.

Izuku swallowed. “Tensei,” he said slowly, “I need you to go without me.”

For a long, quiet moment, Tensei stared at him. He wanted to argue. That was plain. He wanted to take Izuku by the shoulders and shake him, demand to know what he was thinking. But Tensei was well trained, well experienced, and he no doubt understood they didn’t have time to argue. If someone came to check on them, it made escaping all the more difficult, and Izuku needed someone to tell his pack what was happening.

“Listen,” he squeezed Tensei’s hand, hoping to impart some bit of comfort, “they aren’t planning to hurt me. They just want to use me to lure my father into a trap. I don’t think they’ll do anything to hurt me. I’ll be okay,” somehow, he kept his voice from wavering. Even when Tensei’s expression fell, Izuku managed to smile. “I’ll tell you everything I know. But I need you to get back to the pack. You have to warn them. More than anything else, your priority is telling my father this is a trap.”

“Aeon—”

“Please,” Izuku brought his voice lower, so Tensei had to be quiet to hear him, “I’ll tell you everything. So long as you promise to relay it to my father.”

And so he did.

He told Tensei about Malcus’s betrayal, about how the alphas had spilled blood to him, about their conversation. He told Tensei about Jest’s place in all of this, of his visit only hours earlier and his terrible request.

“They have Katsuki,” Izuku felt himself shaking when he said it. He didn’t have time to break down, but even thinking of Katsuki trapped by Jest and his pack was too terrible to face. “Please. You have to tell my father that. Jest took Katsuki.”

Tensei listened and nodded and when Izuku grew a little emotional, he gripped Izuku’s hand a little tighter, leaned in closer to listen.

And when he was finished, Tensei nodded. “All right, shula. I’ll tell your father.”

“Tell him I’ll be okay.” Izuku ran a hand over his eyes. He hated that they were wet with tears. “They won’t hurt me. Even if they found out about this, I don’t think they’d hurt me. They want me to replace my father, so they need me alive.”

“All right.” Tensei said again. He glanced toward the entrance, then back to Izuku. “Stay strong, shula. If I can, I’ll come back to you.”

“After you’ve warned my father.”

“Yes, shula.” And Izuku believed him. Tensei would do whatever he had to warn Toshinori and the pack.

“Okay.” Izuku wiped his face clean. “Please be safe.”

Tensei bowed deeply to him. “You stay safe as well. We will set this right.”

Tensei braced himself, eyed the ventilation shaft above them, and leaped, and he was gone. Izuku held his breath, waiting to hear commotion, terrified that they were waiting for him just beyond the walls of the dwelling. But the night was quiet, save for the sounds of preparations for war, and Tensei vanished through the dark with his terrible message.

Izuku waited all night. When someone came to check on him in the morning, they found him pale and shivering and exhausted. After informing Shinya and Yoroi, a young omega girl was chosen to act as a companion to him. She was sweet and careful and she seemed sympathetic to him, and Izuku couldn’t help but hate her. Whenever she came near him, he snarled at her until she was finally sent away.

Shinya came to ask him what he wanted, and Izuku told him, “I want you to let me go. I want you to promise you won’t hurt my father.”

Without saying anything, Shinya left him alone. No one else came to check on him after that.

It was the next day that Yoroi swept into his dwelling. Izuku still hadn’t slept much and he was exhausted, dizzy, sick with worry, and he didn’t have much energy to care that the alpha had come to see him. Until the alpha spoke, and every nerve in Izuku’s body jolted to attention. “We caught one of your pack sneaking around the camp.” The old alpha sat at the table. “Let’s speak again, aeon. Maybe we can come to an arrangement now.”

Chapter Text

Izuku was terrified Yoroi would demand something awful of him in exchange for the life of his packmate. And, if he had, Izuku would have agreed to anything, anything at all, to save one of his own.

But all Yoroi said was, “We will let your packmate attend to you personally, if you agree to take care of yourself in return. Will you feel comfortable enough to sleep and eat with him attending you instead of our pack?”

For a long moment, Izuku said nothing.

“You’re—” he swallowed. “You’re not going to make anymore demands?”

Yoroi dipped his head. It wasn’t quite a bow. Not quite a concession. “I have told you. We hold no ill will against your pack. We do not wish to harm you or your packmates. Some may die in the conflict to come, we understand. But that is not our wish.” He let out a sigh, long and aggrieved. He seemed even more exhausted than Izuku, if that was possible. “I hope through this, you will come to understand that I speak the truth. Even if it may seem harsh. We truly do wish you no harm.”

“And yet you’ll do harm anyway,” Izuku kept his voice even. He didn’t want to provoke Yoroi.

“As little as possible.” Yoroi dipped his head again. “You must understand, we must protect our own. Just as I know I could demand much of you for the life of your packmate, because I know you must protect yours as well. But I will not make those demands. He may attend to you, if that will make your stay easier.”

“Yes. Please.” Izuku said at once. “You’ve… he’s not hurt, is he?”

Yoroi grimaced. “A few cuts and scrapes. We will have to insist that he not use his blessing while here, or we will have to disable him in a way so he cannot. But so long as he behaves, we will not harm him and we will allow him to attend to your needs.”

“Fine. That’s—” Izuku swallowed. “That’s fine. Please let me see him.”

“I’ll have him brought to you. Stay here, aeon.” Yoroi stood and left. More than ever, the walls around Izuku felt like a prison.

He worried over who could possibly have been caught, but really only two people came to mind. So when Tensei was shown into the dwelling, Izuku wasn’t surprised, and he was relieved that Shoto hadn’t been caught. But even as relief washed over him, terror clogged his throat.

Tensei was a little bruised and clearly bitter, but he walked free and they were left alone, with only the guards who had always been at his door remaining just outside. Izuku rushed to Tensei, who knelt at his approach.

“Did you—?” Izuku didn’t want to put it into words. He didn’t want anyone to overhear him, didn’t want to manifest the most terrible outcome: that Tensei had been caught before he’d warned Toshinori.

Tensei met his gaze evenly, and nodded once. Relief again washed over Izuku, and he threw his arms around Tensei, holding him tightly.

“I came looking for you, shula. I wasn’t expecting an ambush.” He was speaking to those who might be listening, for surely they would be listening. When it had just been Izuku, the outlying packs had no reason to suspect he’d talk to himself and reveal vital information. With Tensei and Izuku together, they no doubt were hoping to glean something from their conversation.

Izuku understood the double meaning in his words: that he had let himself be caught. Izuku didn’t know why, though maybe he had come to the conclusion he could keep a better eye on Izuku from the inside rather than staying along the perimeter. But this meant no one was available to send information to and from Toshinori.

Tensei must have seen the worry in his face, for he said, “My brother will be worried, I’m sure, but I hope he stays away.”

Tenya. Tenya was nearby.

Izuku nodded slowly. “Yes. I hope he’s safe,” was all he could manage.

Tensei glanced around the dwelling again, perhaps noting the uneaten food and unslept in nest. “You look tired. Please rest. I’ll keep watch for you.”

Izuku glanced toward the nest, but he felt revolted just thinking of it. A nest was sacred to an omega, something they crafted for themselves. It wasn’t something someone could just make for someone else. But he knew Yoroi and Shinya hadn’t meant insult with the gesture. They’d simply wanted to give him any sort of comfort they could.

“You’ve done all you can,” Tensei said a little more quietly. Izuku closed his eyes. He knew that wasn’t true. “Please rest. Do you want something to eat?”

Yoroi had said that his care was only being relegated to Tensei because Izuku had refused the care of their packs. If he still refused to take care of himself, they might take Tensei away. So he said, “I’ll lay down for a little while. You’ll tell me if something happens?”

“Yes, shula.” Tensei bowed as he spoke. So few people outside of his pack called him shula, and Izuku didn’t think Yoroi or Shinya had called him such since he’d gotten there. The name felt familiar and grounding, and it made Izuku want to curl up and cry.

But he took a breath and held himself together. Now wasn’t the time. But he could afford to get a little bit of rest. Tensei would look out for him, and if nothing else, he would stop Jest if the beta appeared. Izuku didn’t think Yoroi and Shinya would be welcoming of Jest speaking with him, so it was unlikely Tensei would be punished for driving the beta away. Anything else, well, they would have to figure it out when it came up.

For now, he knew his father had been warned. He knew that Tenya was keeping an eye on things. And, if he had to guess, his father had sent Tensei to ensure Izuku was all right. They were preparing, reacting, and war was looming at their teeth.

It was so difficult to stay strong. For his father. For the outlying packs. For Tensei.

Tensei smiled at him. “It’s okay, shula,” he whispered, “please rest. We’ll figure out what to do when you’ve gotten some sleep.”

Izuku shuddered. They had time, Tensei was telling him. But so little time. Soon enough, Toshinori would have to reply to Yoroi and Shinya’s demands. He would come to participate in their duel. And the rogues would try to kill him for it.

When Izuku didn’t respond, Tensei tilted his head. “May I tell you something my mother told me once?”

“Yes, of course.” Izuku spoke without much thinking. His packmate wanted to tell him something. It was his duty as aeon to listen. Even as he warred within himself.

“As messengers for the pack, our family often goes long distances in a very short amount of time. It can be… tiring, to say the least. When I was young, my mother scolded me for pushing too hard. She told me that it’s all well and good to get my messages to where they need to go as quickly as possible, but it was better if I simply ensured they got to where they needed to go at all. If that meant taking a rest and delaying delivery, then at least the message still got to where it was going.” Tensei smiled when Izuku blinked at him. “You need your rest, shula. You’ll be better for everyone for it.”

Right, Izuku wanted to tell Tensei, you need your rest, it’s very important for your health. And yet he was so unwilling to simply close his eyes for a few moments.

“What if—” Izuku glanced toward the entrance, to the guards listening to them.

Tensei tilted his head. “Shula, if you are needed, or if something were to happen, I would wake you. And I would do what I could to protect you.”

Izuku almost laughed. Didn’t Tensei understand that he was the bait Yoroi and Shinya were using to keep Izuku in line, not the other way around? There was no need to protect Izuku. Tensei was the one who needed protection.

And maybe, just maybe, Izuku couldn’t do that if he was too exhausted to think clearly.

Taking a breath, Izuku glanced toward the makeshift nest, though revulsion rose in his throat at the sight of it. Glancing back at Tensei, Izuku muttered, “May I… can I lay down with you?”

Tensei looked a little startled, but he said, “Of course, shula!”

Maybe it was improper. It was almost certainly unwise. Izuku was meant to be strong and steady, a pillar for everyone to lean against. But this once, Izuku crawled over to Tensei and curled up next to the alpha, pressing against him as much as he could. Like any other omega seeking comfort and warmth from an alpha.

Tensei stilled at first, but once Izuku settled, he relaxed, laid a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, and sat watch. When Izuku buried his face into Tensei’s clothes, he could almost pretend he was home, surrounded by the comforting scents of his pack.

He didn’t sleep well. But in the end, his mind did drift and sleep slowly found him, cradled by one of his own.

- - -

Tensei’s sharp movement woke Izuku suddenly, and without thinking, he flung himself in front of the alpha, hissing defensively. The omega standing just inside the dwelling paused. She held a tray piled with food and a teapot.

Tensei gently moved to stand in front of Izuku, his movements controlled and precise. The omega watched him, though she seemed more concerned when Izuku hissed at her again.

“You woke my aeon,” Tensei said.

The omega bowed her head. “Apologies. Next time I’ll announce myself before entering.”

“See that you do.” Tensei snapped.

It was odd to watch. Tensei, who had no power in the situation, telling off what amounted to his prison guard. And yet, the omega nodded her acknowledgement and handed him the tray of food. “Please tell us if your aeon wishes for something else to eat.”

Tensei said nothing, and the omega took it as a dismissal, leaving them alone once more. After pausing to make sure she wouldn’t come back, Tensei set the tray on the table. “You should eat, shula. But let me test the food first.”

Izuku eyed the tray. “You think they would poison us?”

“They might think sedating us would make things easier. I doubt they would try to kill us. Seems a waste of poison.” He sat and started picking out pieces from each of the foods laid on the tray.

Izuku watched him, half wanting to tell him not to put himself at risk, but also understanding the necessity of what he was doing. They both needed to eat, and if Tensei did fall ill, Izuku had to have his wits to confront Yoroi and Shinya over it. This was Tensei’s way of protecting him, when he had very little power to do so.

Then again, he had told that omega off for being improper, and she had responded as if Tensei were in the right despite their situation.

“You were awfully forceful with that warrior,” Izuku said quietly.

Tensei grimaced. “You know it’s not my preference to treat others, especially omegas, like that. But making and keeping boundaries might be our only chance while we’re here.”

“How did you know she wasn’t going to get angry at you?” Izuku asked. “She could have had you taken away.”

Tensei popped a strip of dried meat into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Perhaps. It was a risk, yes, but we’re not in a situation where we can completely avoid risk. Best to test where we stand and to establish any boundaries we can. See what the rules are and ensure we are using those rules to our advantage. Now, we won’t be interrupted unexpectedly unless something drastic is happening.”

Right. The omega had just come by to give them food. Now, Tensei had set the expectation that the next time, someone would announce when food was to be brought. Now, they knew to expect that. If someone swept into the dwelling now, they could assume that something was really happening, and they would be able to act accordingly.

Izuku bit at his thumb, trying to imagine what else they could do to establish their position. “The warriors are just acting on the Alphas orders. If the Alphas order something, they will obey their Alphas before our demands.”

“Yes,” Tensei said quietly. He took a drink of the tea. “I wouldn’t risk acting as I did to the warrior with the Alphas. But I think they would be less insulted if you tried to establish boundaries with them.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku muttered.

Tensei gazed over their meal, suspect and alluring as it was, with something like sorrow. “If they truly respect you, they will listen to you. I think… it might be worth making demands of them, seeing just how far their respect goes. It might be to your advantage.”

“What advantage?” Izuku grumbled. “I’m just bait in a trap, and you’re just here to make sure I don’t act up.”

Again, Tensei took a drink of tea. This time, he looked up at Izuku with a bit of a smile, something like mischief in his eyes. “Is that why you think I’m here? Shula, I’m gathering information. I’m keeping an eye on you, yes, and the Alphas think they can use me to keep you from being difficult, yes, but make no mistake. It will be to their detriment that they took me in at all. I’ll make sure of it.”

To that, Izuku had nothing to say. Slowly, Tensei started pushing the plates toward Izuku, naming each of them safe as he had no ill effects from consuming any of it. The tea was still hot, thankfully, and this time, Izuku found he could take a modicum of comfort as the mug settled in his palms.

It will be to their detriment that they took me.

Tensei was so assured in this, even as he was clearly a prisoner. Even more so than Izuku was.

If Tensei was fighting this much, then Izuku could as well. He could do more. Even if it felt hopeless. He owed it to Tensei, to his father, to his pack, to simply try.

Izuku took a long gulp of his tea, and set the mug down a little more forcefully than intended, the jarring noise startling Tensei.

“Tensei,” Izuku said slowly, quietly, with a furtive glance toward the dwelling’s entrance and the guards waiting there, “will you help me prepare for my next meeting with the Alphas?”

That mischief curved a smile along Tensei’s face. He leaned in closer and said, “I’d be more than happy to, shula.”

- - -

That next day, Izuku requested a meeting with Yoroi and Shinya. He was curious how quickly the Alphas would adhere to his demand, as was Tensei.

“A negotiator can always tell where the power sits in a negotiation at how eager the parties are to parlay,” he explained in whispers over breakfast, “so let them be eager to hear what you have to say, and pay attention to whether they push you for answers.”

Izuku was glad Tensei was there to walk him through everything. While he had picked up how to negotiate and speak with people in power from watching his father and acting as the aeon, he had never done so in a situation like this. Tensei, however, had been trained to handle all sorts of situations, including the one they found themselves. He answered all of Izuku’s questions, explained basic negotiation tactics, and otherwise kept Izuku from panicking.

“It’ll be all right, shula,” Tensei said again and again. “If nothing else, your father will come for you. And now he knows the others’ intentions, so he will not easily fall prey to them.”

Izuku took some comfort in this, but the thought that if he failed to talk Yoroi and Shinya down from their intention to kill Toshinori would inevitably lead to conflict and death weighed on him. When he told Tensei this, he tried to smile, and failed to do so.

“I don’t envy your dilemma,” he told Izuku in undertones, “it’s unfair for anyone to have put you in this position. But no matter what happens, you are not the cause of this. If there is to be war, then it is a war of the Alphas’ making.”

“But I could stop it.” Izuku insisted.

Tensei tilted his head back and forth, weighing. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Ultimately, the only ones who can stop this are Yoroi and Shinya, and if they really want this, then there might be nothing you can do or say to convince them. Just remember that, all right, shula?”

Remember that there was a possibility he could do nothing to stop the deaths forthcoming.

Izuku felt sick waiting for Yoroi and Shinya’s reply to his request, but it came swiftly and with a relieved air.

The messenger smiled and bowed when he told Izuku, “The Alphas will see you now. Please come with me. Alone.” He added when Tensei shifted to his feet.

Izuku opened his mouth to argue, but Tensei held out his hand, shook his head. They had discussed the possibility that Izuku would have to do this alone, and that even if Tensei were allowed in the meeting, it was unlikely he would be permitted to speak.

“They know I’m a trained negotiator,” Tensei had explained, “that we are Alpha Toshinori’s chosen family for communicating between the packs. They may see my interference as indirect interference from Alpha Toshinori, and I doubt they would take that well.”

In a way, it was better that Tensei wouldn’t be there to distract the Alphas, though Izuku felt terrible leaving him alone, and he felt a little smaller being away from all of his pack. The Alphas were forcing him into a position of weakness, as Tensei had explained. But he couldn’t let them win because of that.

“Very well,” Izuku told the messenger, “so long as no harm comes to Tensei while I’m gone.”

The messenger bowed. “So long as he doesn’t resist or try to leave, we have no reason to harm him.”

Izuku and Tensei exchanged glances, a quick nod. Tensei sat, but Izuku knew that if something happened, he would rush to Izuku’s defense. They had agreed that if the worst were to happen, if Izuku angered the Alphas enough to spur their immediate ire, he could call Tensei to him and Tensei would do everything in his power to rush them away. With his speed, they had a chance to escape, but only once. And if they failed, there was a chance both of them could be injured, and that Tensei would be killed.

That outcome was unacceptable. As far as Izuku was concerned, he was completely alone, and if the Alphas decided to kill him, then he would have to submit to their judgment and hope Tensei was spared. He had so little other choice.

But he couldn’t let Yoroi and Shinya know that.

So he took a breath and followed their messenger with his head held high.

Extra guards had been stationed around the dwelling, and two of them stayed while the others followed in Izuku’s wake. Taking the opportunity to look around, Izuku noticed that the preparations for a fight were nearly complete. Should Toshinori attack the camp, they would be prepared to defend themselves quite readily. No doubt Tenya would have reported this already.

Izuku glanced up to the tree line, wondering if Tenya was watching him right at that moment. If he was, Izuku hoped Tenya reported to Toshinori that his son was well.

The messenger and guards lead Izuku back to the same building before, and just as before, Yoroi was already waiting there for him, Shinya also in place at his side. There was a long, low table set between the Alphas and Izuku, tea on one end and food on the other. In the center were materials for writing. A negotiator’s table, Izuku knew from Tensei’s description, though he’d never seen one before. When his father or Tenna and her family negotiated with another pack, these formalities, the writing of terms and such, was usually done at a separate time, and Izuku had never been part of those proceedings. The fact a table had already been set up before negotiations had even started spoke to something, though Izuku couldn’t tell what. Either the Alphas had taken his request to negotiate as a position of weakness, or they were eager to be done with everything. Two very different situations. He had to learn which he found himself.

The table was set so the natural place Izuku would sit was the middle, between the two Alphas, and right with the papers in front of him. Instead, he chose to sit near the tea and start making himself a cup. Yoroi and Shinya had to turn to watch him.

“Aeon,” Shinya greeted.

Izuku studied the cups, but didn’t find anything obviously different or suspicious about them. “Alphas,” he replied.

“You look better,” Yoroi commented.

Izuku cut him a glare. “I’ve never been away from my pack before. I hadn’t planned on being away from them. I don’t like being away from them.”

Yoroi measured this with a nod. “You will be returned in short order.”

“How magnanimous.” Izuku poured himself a mug. “Tea, Alphas?”

Yoroi declined but Shinya stood and came over to accept a cup from him. “You wished to speak with us?” He prompted.

“Actually,” Izuku began, noting how both Alphas were listening closely, “I wanted to hear more about these ferals you mentioned. My father’s never mentioned them before, but it seems you’re concerned about them. And as aeon, it is my usual duty to hear the worries of those around me.” He paused, watching for a reaction from either Alpha, though they remained stoic, if they did seem to listen more closely. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to offer help, but sometimes speaking about such things can help, I’ve found.”

“This isn’t an issue of a lovesick beta,” Yoroi said, his voice cutting. “This is much more serious.”

Izuku tilted his head. “All right. So tell me about it.” He took a long, quiet sip from his tea mug as Shinya glanced at Yoroi.

Shinya was hard to read, if he was being honest, but Yoroi was frustrated. Izuku could see it. Where was that frustration coming from?

“If you’re unfamiliar with the issue at hand,” Shinya said, earning a glare from Yoroi as well, “it may be good to explain the details. It has been, and I fear will be, an ongoing issue for the territories.”

Izuku chose to ignore the underlying implication that it would soon be Izuku’s problem because his father would be removed from the equation. He took a sip of the tea, found it bitter and over brewed. Perhaps the best they could do for a war camp, but not very good for a negotiation. Izuku remembered that Soren always made sure the tea and warm and either slightly sweet or slightly spiced whenever Toshinori was having a particularly difficult conversation. He would have been appalled at the tea set before them that day.

Set the pot aside, Izuku went over to the various foods laid out. Fruits, herbs dusted over pastries. Izuku remembered Katsuki’s careful hands making his own brew, and started gathering up a few ingredients. “Call for a new pot of hot water, would you?” He asked.

Both Yoroi and Shinya seemed confused, but did as he asked. While they waited and as Izuku worked to pull together something suitable for brewing, he said, “Why don’t you start at the beginning. When did we start having problems with ferals in the area?”

Yoroi didn’t speak, so Shinya took up the conversation. It had been going on for some time now, months. Ferals as they were seeing now had never been common before – perhaps one a decade would show up, already half dead from fever. These were different, though.

“We think they’re a remnant of a pack,” Shinya explained. “Sometimes, when a strong leader of a weak pack is killed and there is no clear hierarchy left, a pack can dissolve quickly. The trauma of the bonds breaking can lead people to become feral, and with nothing and no one to bring them back, that state can become more permanent, a continuous state of survival. That’s why people such as you are so important, aeon.” Shinya concluded.

For the first time, Yoroi hummed, entering the conversation. “Indeed. Having a central heart to keep the pack together can prevent splintering in the aftermath of a loss of a leader. Sometimes, pack members on the fringe may still go feral, but so long as there are others who retain their sanity, these ferals can usually be brought back with some care. If there is no one to hold people together, then everything splinters, and the pack is completely broken.”

“Do we know what pack these ferals might have come from?” Izuku wasn’t aware of any packs very close to their territories; the five packs had come together expressly because they were otherwise alone in the forest.

Shinya shared a long look with Yoroi. Something about this conversation they had already spoken of before. Izuku could tell they were debating something over again, a silent war of wills.

In the end, Shinya scoffed and turned away from Yoroi. “We don’t know. We asked your father to help us search. Your pack has more wide-ranging blessings than our people. We are more suited for the forest. Your people can go beyond, look for clues as to where these ferals are coming from. But your father refused to help us.”

Izuku gathered a handful of the tea mix and smelled it, decided it was a bit too herby and dug a couple more seeds from the pulpy fruit offered before him. As he worked, he thought over what Shinya had said. They did, indeed, have a couple people who could cross vast distances if needed, including most of Tensei’s family. Tenya and Tenna seemed the most likely candidates, but Tenna was integral to keeping open communications between the packs and Tenya was yet young. Izuku could understand his father not wanting to put either of them at risk.

And yet, he knew if asked, Tenya would have been more than happy to try to help. And Izuku didn’t think that Shinya and Yoroi would have expected him to go alone.

“Were you able to send any scouting parties out to look for clues?” Izuku asked.

“Some, but so few have gone beyond the forest. We also asked your father for maps or anecdotes from your traveler of what lay just beyond our territories, but he refused to let us speak with the traveler’s widow.”

That would be Kaya. And, again, if asked, Kaya would have been more than happy to share what she had been told of the lands beyond their territories.

Something didn’t feel right.

Izuku paused again as a fresh pot was placed next to him, steaming and hot to the touch. He palmed his makeshift tea mix and held it out toward Yoroi. “Does this smell nice to you, Alpha?”

Yoroi eyed him, not quite trusting, but gestured him closer, and Izuku stepped in so Yoroi could lean over and get a smell. He grunted, which Izuku took as acceptance, while Shinya did the same and nodded.

“Where did you learn to make your own teas, aeon?” He asked as Izuku poured the herbs and seeds into the pot.

Izuku met each of the Alphas gaze. “I learned it from Katsuki.”

Neither Alpha reacted, though in the absence of a reaction, Izuku found he could infer surprise. A rogue wouldn’t be thought to teach someone how to craft teas. No doubt they had been expecting him to say Soren, whom they both knew of.

He let the name linger a moment longer, before he asked, “And these ferals. When they do find their way into the territories. What has happened?”

Yoroi growled quietly, his hand landing on the hilt of his sword. Fear tickled the back of Izuku’s neck, but he went about as if nothing had happened at all.

After a long pause, Yoroi said, “They come, raving mad, and they tear apart anything and anyone in their path. Animals and plants. People. We’ve lost too many warriors to these ferals. And far too many innocents.”

“Hunters, usually,” Shinya added, “out looking to feed the pack. They never come back and we find their bodies days later, torn to shreds with the feral still ripping through the viscera. It’s an awful sight for anyone, aeon, and far too many of us have seen the aftermath of such an attack.”

“That is awful,” Izuku muttered. He was shivering for a different reason now, thinking of his own pack members torn to unidentifiable shreds. Shoto sometimes went out hunting. What if he had been one of the victims of these ferals? “I’m so sorry, Alphas. No one deserves to have such a horrible thing happen to them.”

“Yes. And that is why we have asked for help.” Yoroi finally met his gaze. His eyes were sharp and slanted, anger brewing like coals in a heating pit. “And your father refused. Do you see now why we must do this? The attacks have only gotten worse. Something must be done.”

Izuku said nothing, but he understood. Desperation dripped from both Alphas, as much as they might want to hide it. No doubt they would think it a weakness. But Izuku knew that only a strong leader could think clearly enough to make difficult choices in such situations. Perhaps not always the right choice – not for one second did he think killing Toshinori would fix their ferals problem – but they had kept their packs together, focused, and made a choice they thought would be the best for their people.

Together.

Izuku poured a small measure of the tea and tasted it. It needed a bit more time. He set the pot aside.

“I’m curious why,” he said slowly, “you think my father is the only obstacle for gaining our pack’s assistance in your fight against the ferals.”

“He is the Alpha.” Yoroi said simply.

Shinya nodded with him. “The others will follow his lead.”

“And once he is gone, you think it will make things easier for your packs to receive help?”

“You are more understanding than your father. Less clouded.” Yoroi grumbled. “Especially now, you understand the gravity of what has happened, and what must be done.”

Izuku nodded as well. “You do know that as soon as I am returned home, whether I become the leader or not, our pack will close ranks and become more isolating than before?”

“You will be able to command them,” Shinya told him, as laying out a command. Izuku did his best not to bristle at the tone of his words. “And you know what we face. Why we require your assistance.”

“And the consequences if we don’t?” Izuku challenged. “Will you kill me next if I disobey?”

Neither Alpha reacted. They watched him, so Izuku made sure to move slowly and precisely. He checked the tea again, and found it ready enough. He poured three cups, handing one to Shinya directly and placing another in front of Yoroi. Then, he sat at the center of the table, the negotiation papers laid out before him. Instead of acknowledging them, he drank his tea, aware of the Alphas watching, waiting.

They wanted to hear him speak.

Izuku took a breath. “Even if I was amenable to sending help to your packs, and to be clear, I do sympathize with your situation, I am not, and would not, be the ultimate say so of the pack. I would come back to them traumatized by my imprisonment and the death of my father in the eyes of the pack. Mirai would take over command while I recovered, and Enji would rally our warriors to protect me and the rest of the pack. And I do not think they would see you as anything but an enemy if you let my father be killed.”

“Mirai is wise enough to understand the precariousness of your position. He will not dare to do anything foolish,” Yoroi spoke dismissively now.

This time, Izuku did let himself bristle slightly. “Anything as foolish as making a deal with a rogue pack?”

Yoroi’s eyes sharpened and Shinya glanced over to him. There was a pause between them, a sliver of a rift, as even Shinya surveyed Yoroi for his reaction, his response.

And there it was. This was where there was friction.

Yoroi and Shinya hadn’t agreed on what to do with the rogue pack.

Izuku took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn’t let this slip through his fingers. He had to keep calm, as Tensei had told him, and do what he did best.

He was the aeon. He kept the pack together. He kept the balance, the peace. He was the heart everyone could circle back to for warmth and safety. In their own way, Yoroi and Shinya had come to him. They, perhaps more than anyone, needed that reassurance of belonging, of peace and safety.

As the aeon, maybe he was the only one who could reassure them.

“I understand it, you know,” he said softly, without quite meeting Yoroi’s piercing gaze. “The rogue pack. They’re fodder to throw at the ferals, right? At least with them around, you don’t have to keep sending your hunters and your people out into complete danger. At least with them, you aren’t the ones holding the line anymore. You can breathe a little, can’t you?”

Yoroi said nothing for a long time. Izuku had the sense he was being reevaluated, that he had done something unexpected. A small spark of hope dared to light in his chest.

The old Alpha grumbled as he shifted, clamping a hand hard along his thigh. “Do you think less of us for sacrificing them, aeon?”

“I don’t think so,” Izuku said truthfully.

“Really? Even as rogues, they have lives of their own.” He studied Izuku closely. “What about the rogue you’re infatuated with?”

Izuku paused. He remembered what the Alphas had reacted to his speaking of Katsuki – they had been disappointed in his insistence on calling Katsuki one of his own. If Yoroi and Shinya were using the rogues as fodder against the ferals, no doubt they would have seen his sympathy toward one of the rogues as another reason why Izuku couldn’t be reasoned with.

“Did Jest tell you that?” Izuku asked. When neither Alpha responded, he continued, “Jest took Katsuki, you know, for a reason. He wants to use Katsuki against me. Just like you’re using my father’s life and the lives of my pack against me.”

“We are not the same,” Yoroi growled, even as Shinya frowned ever so slightly.

“You are certainly treating me the same.” Izuku paused, then said, “Did you know that Jest appeared before me the night I arrived here? He wants for me to meet his pack’s aeon. He told me they’re holding Katsuki and the only way I’ll get to see him again is if I go to them.”

Shinya rose suddenly. Izuku paused, his skin prickling, and Yoroi turned to watch. For a painful moment, Izuku’s heart clenched. If Shinya left, there would be no negotiating the end of this. This required both Shinya and Yoroi to agree to stop this madness. Even if Izuku could still convince Yoroi, the cracks between their two packs were deep enough that just Yoroi’s change of heart might not sway Shinya. An entirely new problem would be laid at Izuku’s feet – one that was much more present. Yoroi’s and Shinya’s packs were intermingled in the camp. If the Alphas were to break from one another, it would spread throughout the camp and conflict could snap into sharp, violent focus far too quickly for anyone to stop.

Izuku had to keep them together. Convince them together. He couldn’t let Shinya walk away from this.

Scrambling for something, anything, Izuku blurted out, “I’m sorry. The tea didn’t quite turn out the way I wanted it to. Is it not to your liking?”

Tea. Of all the damn things to talk about!

Shinya swayed on the spot, not quite looking at either of them. He walked away, and each footstep pounded an irregular rhythm against Izuku’s chest. When Shinya reached the entrance, he swept it aside and muttered something to the warriors gathered there. Then, he slowly returned to his place next to Yoroi. This time, when he sat down, it was a little farther away from Yoroi and a little closer to Izuku.

“I knew he was not to be trusted,” Shinya muttered at Yoroi.

The older Alpha’s hand shifted to his sword, and Izuku quickly said, “It’s not your fault, Alpha. Jest fooled us all. I think he even fooled Katsuki. Or at least, someone fooled him, and he was left suffering more for it.” He paused. “May I tell you the story he told me, Alpha? About where he came from?”

“We’ve little time for stories, aeon,” Yoroi grumbled, but Shinya nodded.

“I will listen, if you wish to tell it.”

“I wouldn’t want to waste Alpha Yoroi’s time,” Izuku said placatingly, “but if you allow me a few minutes, it won’t take long.”

Yoroi said nothing, but he also didn’t move to leave, and when Shinya gestured for Izuku to speak, he did. He told the Alphas of how he had petitioned his father to be solemn guard at his pack’s latest Omega Moon, how the three rogues had infiltrated their sacred grounds, how Izuku had fought them and been overwhelmed. How Katsuki had stepped in to defend him.

As the story went on, he watched for reactions from both Alphas. Shinya clearly listened while drinking tea, though Izuku couldn’t quite tell if he was taking the story seriously. It felt a bit more like he was listening to a particularly good orator spin a legend in front of a group of children. As for Yoroi, he wouldn’t even look at Izuku while he spoke.

Still, Izuku persisted, talking about Katsuki’s appearance with the two rogues at their village, all that had happened after that, how Izuku had come to trust and care for him. Then, after a pause, Izuku slowly said, “He speaks about his former pack sparingly, and almost always with grief.”

Shinya watched Izuku, and Yoroi stared at the ground. They were both quiet for a long, painful moment.

Then, Yoroi spoke, “Has he said how his pack met its end?”

Izuku considered him. “He doesn’t remember the details. I think his mind has blocked out most of it, and the rest was lost when he was injured. But I’m under the impression that some other pack attacked his.” Izuku bit his lip. “He always seemed so confused as to how anyone could kill his people. From what I understand, there weren’t many other packs near him, and none of them had the strength to wipe out his pack. They came from nowhere, and everyone was dead before morning. Except for Katsuki.”

“Then he ends up in Jest’s care afterward.” Yoroi muttered.

“What are you thinking?” Shinya asked.

Yoroi gripped the hilt of his sword, the leather straining under his fingers. “I think,” he said slowly, “it seems awfully convenient.”

“Yes,” Shinya pressed a hand to his chin. “I was thinking the same.”

Izuku stayed very quiet and very still as the Alphas sat in silence. He could tell he was no longer the most concerning thing on the Alphas minds, and whatever was happening between them, a flutter of hope flared to life in his chest.

After a long moment, Yoroi lifted his hand from his sword. “Aeon, tell me of this pack. The one your new member came from.”

That hope sparked brightly as Yoroi called Katsuki their new member. Izuku desperately tried to recall everything Katsuki had told him, that they had lived on the plains, that they were hunters mostly, that apparently there were animals out on the plains they had to fend off quite frequently.

Shinya rubbed his chin as he listened. “Sounds as if they were a more warrior focused pack. They would need strong warriors to hunt long distances on the plains and bring enough prey back to feed the pack. And to fend off animal attacks.”

“But they were not fighting off another pack. So they would not be true warriors.” Yoroi added slowly.

“Yes.” Shinya sounded decisive as he said this, though Izuku couldn’t quite interpret what he could be thinking.

“Hunters, then,” Yoroi added.

“Yes,” Shinya said again.

“Strong hunters, perhaps, but not used to fighting packs. Maybe not even used to fighting rogues.”

“Yes.”

Yoroi paused a long second. “Or ferals.”

Shinya said nothing to this, but Izuku’s skin prickled. He set his cup down, afraid he might drop it with how much his hands were suddenly shaking. Did he dare interject here? He waited to see if either Alpha would continue the conversation, and when neither did, he said quietly, “Do you think ferals could have killed his pack?”

Yoroi grunted, but said nothing for a long, long heartbeat. “It is a possibility. After all, even rival packs would not kill everyone. There is use in bringing in unrelated omegas, for example. Especially in such an isolated area. And young pups can be useful as well. To slaughter an entire pack… there are few who would wish that.”

“But ferals have no such compunction,” Shinya said the same as he’d said yes.

Izuku glanced between the two Alphas as they looked at one another, sharing silent words he wished he could hear. “Would ferals be ale to organize enough to wipe out an entire pack.”

Yoroi shifted. “No. That is the tricky part. But.” He said nothing, until Shinya shook his head.

“But,” Shinya continued, “it is strange for us to have had so many ferals invading our territory as they have. They should be more likely to fight amongst one another and eliminate themselves than to tangle with our hunters. And yet, they are.”

“They are,” Yoroi grumbled. He ran a hand over his face. Izuku traced the movement, hardly daring to believe.

Shinya, however, turned away from Yoroi. “I knew we should not have trusted them.”

“Do you really think the rogue pack could have anything to do with ferals?” Yoroi’s voice was harsh, almost accusing.

Shinya shrugged off the aggression. “I think this is all very convenient, and I always said we should not have been so willing to throw our lot in with someone we do not know.”

“The man we do know would allow our packs to be torn apart by ferals,” Yoroi snarled. Izuku felt himself shrinking as the Alpha’s fury rose.

Still, Shinya remained calm. “Toshinori was wrong. But that does not mean we can’t be wrong as well.” He met Yoroi’s gaze. “And I think we are wrong.”

Yoroi gripped his sword again, saying nothing. His eyes were shadowed under his helm and Izuku didn’t know him well enough to know what he might be thinking. He held his breath as Shinya turned to him. “What has Katsuki said of the rogue pack? He was with them, if only for a little bit. Did he speak of anyone who might be able to control ferals such as the ones we have seen?”

“I-I don’t know.” And he didn’t know. Izuku scrambled to remember all Katsuki had said, but it was even less than what he’d said of his own pack. All he could really grasp suddenly was the sad way Katsuki always spoke of his past, how the scars lining his body shadowed as if in reminder—

His scars.

Izuku swallowed thickly. “You… you never met him. But Malcus and Shade met him. Katsuki, I mean. They saw his scars.” He spoke hurriedly, not quite able to string together lovely, convincing sentences. But both Alphas looked at him as he spoke, so he pressed on. “Katsuki was wounded. In the attack. He has these scars all over his body. But… they aren’t scars that would come from weapons. They look like… like…” he swallowed again, “like someone was trying to tear him apart.”

The Alphas looked at one another. For a long, long second, neither of them moved.

Then, Yoroi peeled his fingers from the hilt of his sword, and let his hand hang along his knee, his head bowed in the slightest motion of defeat.

“Perhaps,” Shinya said cautiously, “we were wrong.”

Yoroi said nothing for a long moment. Then, “Perhaps.”

Izuku felt his throat swelling. He couldn’t let this opportunity pass. He cleared it, and said, “Perhaps, Alphas, we can begin negotiations now. Maybe negotiations of a different sort?”

Chapter Text

The pack appeared right where they had been expected, a line of warriors just within the trees, with a rather convenient meadow between them and Shinya and Yoroi’s war camp. The perfect place for a duel to the death. Toshinori stood at their lead, his form massive and hulking, steaming with his rage. Izuku had never seen such fury in his father’s face, the shadowed lines deeper and harsher than ever before.

Tensei placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Easy,” he said quietly. They stood, surrounded by Shinya’s and Yoroi’s warriors, with the Alphas themselves standing slightly in front of everyone else, a mirror to Toshinori and his pack. Both sides were still, watching each other warily.

After a long, tense moment, Shinya glanced over his shoulder. “Aeon,” he called, and Izuku nodded.

He stepped forward and for the first time, his father noticed him. Toshinori’s body shook, probably in effort not to run toward his son. The rest of the pack shifted, some of them pacing back and forth, all eyes on him.

Izuku had wanted to walk calmly across the meadow, to show a measure of control to convey the situation was being handled, but seeing his pack, seeing the anxiety in them, he couldn’t stop himself from running. As he crossed the meadow, two figures broke away from the pack to meet him. Shoto and Touya.

Shoto’s face was a field of fury and agony, his hands reaching for Izuku, hungry to be near him. While Touya took several more steps beyond Izuku, standing between him and the outlying packs, Shoto immediately grabbed Izuku and pulled him urgently back toward the pack. His fingers were cold in Izuku’s hand, his body tingling with unspent power. Izuku nestled as close to him as he could while they ran, and for the first time since Malcus had taken him, he found he could breathe easy.

Within a few feet of the pack, the line broke and warriors swarmed them, surrounding Izuku and Shoto and pulling them back into the fold. The warriors nearest to Izuku reached out to touch him, whispered shula, or growled, low and possessive, back toward the outlying packs. They only broke apart when they reached Toshinori, and Izuku threw himself into his father’s arms.

Toshinori rumbled deeply, his body hot and shivering. Izuku could feel the tremble of relief and terror and fury in his touch, in the heat wicking off his skin.

“Are you all right?” His father’s voice was strained.

“Yes, yes. They didn’t hurt me.” Izuku reassured quickly. He stepped back sooner than he wanted to, and his father kept his hands on his shoulders, reluctant to let him go. “Yoroi and Shinya want to speak with you.”

“They want… to speak?” Toshinori said slowly, incredulously, nearly boiling in fury.

“Yes. Please, father,” Izuku took his father’s hand in his. “Please hear them out. At least once.”

“They took you,” Toshinori growled. “They wanted to kill me.” He lifted his head and scanned the area. “Where are the rogues?”

“I don’t think they’ll be coming,” Izuku said. Although he had no way of knowing, he suspected that the agreement between him and the outlying packs would have reached the rogues by now. Jest had not appeared as he had promised, though that could have been because of Tensei’s presence. Izuku didn’t think it was quite that simple.

“Please, Alpha,” Izuku tried again, and this time Toshinori softened. He ran a hand through Izuku’s hair, just as he had when Izuku had been young, the touch reaffirming and gentle. Izuku nuzzled into his father’s hand, purring happily as the pack shifted around them, their scents surrounding him. They smelled like home.

But one scent was missing among their ranks.

Izuku looked up at Toshinori. “The rogues took Katsuki. They still have him.” His lip quivered when he spoke. Toshinori gave no reaction to the news – he would already know – but Izuku pressed on, “Please. They might be able to help us. They were fooled, and now they realize who the real enemy is. Just speak with them.”

Toshinori paused again. Then, he looked up at Yoroi and Shinya, their packs behind them, most of them unarmed and wary.

He looked down at Izuku, and nodded. “Very well. I’ll listen to what they have to say.”

- - -

Tsunagu, who had hung back with the intent of intervening should the rogues try to kill Toshinori, a surprise hidden in the shadows, helped them construct a neutral ground dwelling from which the Alphas could speak. Shota had remained at the village to keep watch for any secondary attacks from either the outlying packs or the rogues, but Hitoshi was there in his place. The beta checked in with Izuku as soon as his father stepped away to prepare for the negotiations.

“We were worried,” he told Izuku.

Izuku had the impression he meant more than just Toshinori’s pack. Yoroi and Shinya had insisted they respected him as the aeon, as if his position extended to every pack in the territory. Maybe Hitoshi meant the same as the outlying pack Alphas, that his position as aeon was respected throughout his own and Tsunagu’s pack as well.

The pressure in his chest tightened. He knew he should say something inspiring or reassuring. All he managed was to whimper, “The rogues still have Katsuki.”

Hitoshi tilted his head, as if thinking. Then he nodded. “Leave that to me,” he said, and left as if on a mission. Izuku didn’t know what he could do about Katsuki’s situation, but if he could do something, he’d take any help possible.

Meanwhile, Tsunagu had set up a temporary, but somehow luxurious, dwelling in the middle of the meadow upon which Toshinori had been meant to die. Yoroi and Shinya had stayed back during the construction, as had Toshinori on his side, but once the structure was secure and Tsunagu signaled them, the three Alphas, and Tensei, stepped forward. Hitoshi followed in Toshinori’s wake and Izuku went to follow.

Shoto grabbed his hand. “Where are you going?” He’d stayed close at Izuku’s side since reuniting, and now he dug his heels in to stop Izuku from leaving.

Izuku squeezed his hand in reply. “They need me there.” He tugged Shoto with him. “Come on. Sit with me.” Shoto refused to move for a long second, until Toshinori glanced over his shoulder, looking for Izuku. Whether because he didn’t want to leave Izuku’s side or he knew that Izuku would be needed for the conversation to come, the Alpha looked for him, and only then did Shoto let Izuku pull him away from the pack.

Izuku could feel the pack tense as he stepped away from them. They wanted to follow him, surround him, and Izuku wanted to be surrounded by them, but he had a more important duty at that moment. Comforting the pack would come later, once the territories were reunited again. And when Katsuki had been found. Izuku couldn’t let him get lost in the negotiations to come.

Inside the dwelling, there was enough space for everyone to comfortably sit without being within reaching distance. A smart ploy on Tsunagu’s part, and probably a signal that he didn’t want this to come to blows, as it easily could. In fact, as Izuku entered the dwelling, Shoto at his side, both Yoroi and Shinya looked up at him and a growl rippled through the air as Toshinori warned them away. When he passed his father, Izuku put a hand on his shoulder to quiet him. As he sat, Shoto knelt at his side, ready to leap up if need be, glaring at Yoroi and Shinya. Hitoshi took the spot on Izuku’s other side, which surprised Izuku, if only for a moment. His position, Izuku assumed, also relied on Izuku’s position. If something were to happen to him, the person who had originally made the deal with him to become head beta, his position could fall apart. Hitoshi had a reason to want to keep Izuku secure as aeon. But there was something odd in the way Hitoshi sat only once Izuku had, despite Toshinori and Tsunagu already having seated themselves next to one another. He was aligning himself, perhaps.

It was all a dance. Even here. Maybe especially here. Hitoshi may be communicating to Yoroi and Shinya exactly where he stood, and it was with Izuku, not Toshinori.

An odd moment, though Izuku didn’t think anyone but him noticed it. The Alphas were too busy staring each other down to notice much of anything else.

He cleared his throat politely, but even that didn’t turn any heads. It wasn’t until Tensei stood and moved between the two sides, placing the same low table that had been set between Izuku and the outlying pack Alphas.

“Shall we begin, Alphas?” He turned to both sides with the question.

Yoroi and Shinya narrowed their eyes slightly while Tsunagu nodded and Toshinori looked him over. Searching for injuries, no doubt, as he’d done to Izuku. And Tensei did have a couple bruises still, dark spots that stuck out against his pale skin, spots that Toshinori examined silently.

When Tensei chose to sit next to Yoroi, Toshinori shifted, clearly uncomfortable, and turned his attention to the outlying pack Alphas. “I don’t see why I owe you to speak at all. You betrayed us.”

“We thought we had little choice,” Yoroi snarled in reply, and the tension spiked sudden and hot, as Toshinori snarled silently and Yoroi met him with a growl of his own. “You abandoned us to our fates with the ferals. The rogues said they could help, when you weren’t willing.”

“And so you take my son?” Toshinori seemed to swell in his seat and Yoroi placed a hand on his sword.

“You should thank me. I was ensuring the continuation of your pack.”

“Thank you?!” Toshinori nearly leaped to his feet but again Izuku cleared his throat, louder and more insistent this time.

“I think,” he said firmly, waiting for both Toshinori and Yoroi to glance toward him before continuing, “that perhaps we should begin with what we have pieced together about the rogue pack and the ferals. Our theory about their connection.”

This gave Toshinori enough pause for the tension to dissipate, if only slightly. Yoroi kept one hand on his sword, but his other lifted to his chin in thought.

“From what the aeon has said of the fate of your newest member’s former pack, we believe they may have been wiped out by the same ferals now encroaching on our borders.”

Again, Toshinori paused. He sat back, the tension easing enough that both Tsunagu and Shinya leaned into the conversation, both unwilling to enter when the other two were so close to blows.

“I know little of Katsuki’s former pack. You’re saying they were scattered?” Tsunagu asked.

“Murdered,” Yoroi glanced toward Izuku, who nodded confirmation, “to the last. Except for him.”

Tsunagu made a humming noise. “And he ends up with this rogue pack. Quite convenient.”

“Yes,” Shinya grumbled, “we thought so as well.”

“We have no proof,” Tensei continued the conversation, keeping the pace up, leaving no room for conflict to arise again, “that the ferals and rogues are connected. But we also have nothing to disprove it. And, as Alpha Tsunagu said, it is all quite convenient. After all, how could they have known about our packs, about our Moon, if they had not somehow scouted the area already?”

“Ferals aren’t sophisticated enough to convey information such as that,” Yoroi growled.

Hitoshi tilted his head suddenly. “It goes to reason that if we are assuming they have some control over these ferals, then is it that much more a stretch to believe they have a way of communicating with them?”

That made all the Alphas fall silent. Tensei took the lead again after the pause grew too lengthy, “Alpha Yoroi, Alpha Shinya, do you know how many ferals you’ve seen? How many you’ve… dispatched?”

“We’ve seen enough,” Yoroi grumbled, “and killed too many to make up for how many of us they’ve murdered.” He shot Toshinori a hard glare, which Toshinori returned evenly.

“Katsuki never mentioned how many ferals attacked his pack,” Izuku stepped in, as Tensei had, hoping the conversation would continue from there.

“Enough to kill them all. And I do not think we’ve seen enough for such a feat,” Shinya said. He pressed his hand to his chin. “There are more out there.”

It was a statement that threaded between the packs. A simple string of words that landed like a stone between them. There are more out there.

“Assumably,” Tsunagu said slowly, “not enough to kill us all outright. But. If we were divided.” He looked at Toshinori when he said this, and Yoroi and Shinya followed his gaze.

Toshinori, no doubt aware of the others watching him, stared at the table between them, his fists clenched in his hands. Without another word, steam leaked from his form, filling the dwelling briefly before revealing he had collapsed back to his thinner form, his face drawn into a painful scowl.

“This is what the rogues wanted,” he said slowly, still without looking up. “To divide us. Scatter us. And then, ultimately, to kill us.” His gaze flicked to Izuku, who tried not to squirm. “They want my son. They’ve made that clear enough. Perhaps they were willing to kill us all to get to him, or perhaps they thought he was an easy way to divide us all so they could kill us.”

“Yes,” Shinya glanced at Yoroi, “we have come to that conclusion as well.”

Yoroi tightened his hand around his sword, but didn’t draw it. Calmed, he took a breath and said, “We nearly fell for their tricks. We nearly assisted them in their ultimate goal.” He turned a glare toward Toshinori. “But you have fault in this. If we had been supported, we would not have felt the need to look for others for assistance.”

Toshinori bristled immediately, especially when Tsunagu turned a judging look toward him. Although the representative of his father’s pack, Hitoshi did not so openly stare at Toshinori, instead sneaking a glance toward Izuku. Izuku tried to keep his face neutral, so not to give anything away.

When Toshinori said nothing, Tensei cleared his throat. “Maybe,” he said slowly, “it is time to discuss what can be done to move forward. Now that we agree upon the real threat to all of our territories. Alpha?” This was directed toward Toshinori, his own Alpha, and Toshinori responded with just a flicker of movement.

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Bah,” Yoroi slammed his hand on the table, Toshinori jerking upright at the noise. “Enough of this. The rogues are closing in. We need to prepare.”

“I agree. I doubt we have much time left before they launch their next offensive,” Tsunagu said.

“Would it perhaps be too much to hope that now that they’ve lost the support of two packs, they will simply leave?” Hitoshi added.

“No,” Izuku muttered, and all eyes turned to him. He kept his chin up, even as the words bunched in his throat, even as relief and fear threatened to pull tears from his eye. “They took Katsuki. As a contingency. They aren’t done yet.”

Tsunagu, Yoroi, and Shinya seemed doubtful of this, but Toshinori growled and Hitoshi nodded. Both of them had seen Katsuki with Izuku. They wouldn’t need explanation to why the rogues would take him. He was thankful for that, thankful when his father said, “So long as they have one of my own, we must pursue them.”

Still, Yoroi and Shinya hesitated, until Yoroi growled. “Very well,” he didn’t sound happy.

Shinya also didn’t seem pleased, but he conceded, “My pack will lend their aid. An offer, since we allowed the rogues to take him.”

Toshinori looked like he wanted to growl something in response, but Tensei quickly stepped in, “We can assume a gathered offense from our packs will be more than enough to take on the rogue pack and whatever ferals they may have at their backs. If they’d had enough of a force to do what they wished, they would not have spent so much time sneaking behind our backs.”

“Perhaps,” Tsunagu said quietly, his arms crossed delicately, “but can we assume they will treat Katsuki as a hostage? Would they threaten his life if we moved against them?”

Izuku shuddered at even the thought. No matter what, Katsuki would not have simply given himself over to the rogues. Either they were holding him against his will, or they had rendered him physically incapable of leaving. Jest had suggested he was unharmed, but Izuku wasn’t completely convinced of Jest’s honesty. He had lied before, and there was no reason for him to not lie again if it suited his needs.

“Perhaps.” Hitoshi shifted as he spoke, crouching onto his knees and leaning toward the table between the packs. He gestured as if to draw a map and, as if on command, Tenya spread out parchment and a fresh brush for him to use. Hitoshi tilted his head in thanks and quickly mapped out a sketch of the forest. “We don’t need a strong, frontal offense. Not yet at least. We need an extraction team. Someone to go in, find Katsuki, and remove him from danger. A few specialized warriors. Then, once he is safe, everyone else can move in to either drive the rogues out, or do what must be done.”

Kill them, being the unspoken words. Izuku swallowed uneasily. He held no love for the rogues, especially after all they had done, but the thought of wiping out an entire pack made him feel sick to his stomach, made him remember the flashes of pain that sometimes haunted Katsuki’s eyes.

Hitoshi pressed the map he’d drawn between the Alphas, the sketch of vague lines for borders between pack territories and small marks for known landmarks, such as the ridge and the river through the forest. “We have manpower enough to flush out where the rogues are hiding. Before, we were scouting in small teams, hoping to come across them. But at this point, I think we can assume they are a moving force. If they’re rogues, they’re used to being on the move, and it’s the best strategy to avoid small scouting parties. If they’re moving, it would be harder to find them, to stop them. But if we have a large enough team, there’s nowhere for them to run fast enough. Not if the entire pack is moving.”

As he spoke, Hitoshi sketched more, drawing out a quick plan to sweep through the forest, leaving no land unmarked. Nowhere to run, as he’d said.

“Once we find the pack, it will be easy to keep track of it covertly. Our forces can prepare for the larger offensive and our smaller team can prepare to extract Katsuki.” He glanced up at Toshinori, who was glaring down at the map, clearly thinking. “I can’t speak fully for my father, but I think he would be more than willing to lend some of our warriors to this cause. We are used to moving covertly. We would be better than most of your warriors, Alpha Toshinori.”

Toshinori grimaced, deeper when Shiyna added, “Our warriors as well. Shade is our best scout, and if they don’t wish to be found, they won’t be. You can find use for them in this mission.”

Hitoshi nodded. “I thank you on behalf of my Alpha, Alpha Shinya.”

“And my warriors are used to covering large swaths of land quickly,” Yoroi added in a grumble. “We will assist in the search for the rogues.”

“And when the time comes,” Shinya added, “I think we will all be ready to face the rogues and ferals. Together.” He added with a sharp glance to every other person at the table.

Tsunagu bowed his head in acceptance and Hitoshi tilted his head. Toshinori paused a moment longer. Izuku had a feeling he knew what his father was going to say.

After a long moment, he pressed a hand to his chin. “Katsuki is ours,” he said slowly, “he is my responsibility to retrieve.”

“Father,” Izuku said, a little less patiently than he’d meant, “they truly want to help. Please accept it.”

Toshinori’s fists clenched. He leaned forward, staring between Shinya and Yoroi with something like distrust, something like disappointment. “What I do not understand,” he said slowly, “is why you believed this was the correct solution. Why taking my son and doing away with me was the option you wished to take. How can I trust two men who wanted me dead just hours before this? How can I trust you won’t turn on us again?” He looked to Izuku, something hard in his eyes. “How can you trust them when they used a diplomatic meeting to enact violence on our pack? They kidnapped you while under the flag of a peaceful meeting. Who’s to say they do not have assassins waiting to kill me even as we speak?”

A spike of irritation rung through Izuku, matching his father’s frustration, but he took a breath, keeping his voice calm. “Because we have wronged them as well. They were forced into a situation where they had to make drastic decisions. Perhaps they were the wrong decisions, but they were still forced to make them because we refused them proper help.”

“Refused,” Toshinori snarled again, his gaze landing back on Yoroi and Shinya. “You are the ones who refused. Perhaps I was wrong only in that I didn’t take more initiative. But every request you sent, I replied with what resources we had to aid, and they never seemed good enough.”

“Aid!” Yoroi grabbed the hilt of his sword. The tension in the room sung at a dangerous pitch. Shoto leaned in close to Izuku, no doubt readying to leap in front of him should someone attack. Izuku looked at Tensei desperately, but Tensei was too focused on the Alphas to notice. “Even our simplest requests you could not uphold! Even a map – a simple map – was too much to ask, apparently. No, you wished for us to send our warriors into an unknown, where they could more easily be picked off by ferals. Is that the aid of which you speak?”

For a long second, Toshinori said nothing. The Alphas stared at one another, clearly evaluating the each for reactions. And slowly, slowly, Toshinori’s brows tipped downward. Not in anger. But confusion.

“Map,” he said slowly, “you mean the map from Kaya you requested.” He and Tensei exchanged a strange look, the confusion ringing between them. “Was the copy not to your satisfaction? You never mentioned it had imperfections.”

“Copy?” Yoroi said, and now the confusion rung between him and Shinya. “We never received anything of the sort. No map, copy or not.”

Again, there was an awkward beat of silence. The Alphas all looked at one another, while Tensei and Tenya shared a look over the table, something urgent and silent between them.

Then, “Perhaps I can elucidate some of these questions.”

Izuku’s skin prickled and he turned before anyone else, just as the shadows coalesced into a hauntingly familiar shape. Jest stepped from the shadows, smiling as if nothing were out of place.

Chapter Text

Jest stood there for only a second, a smile on his face, the dwelling still and quiet as if time itself had made room for the beta’s entrance.

Then, the dwelling erupted.

The Alphas turned toward Jest, swords were pulled, Toshinori flushed with power as his form exploded, Shinya stabbed forward with something that wasn’t quite a blade but was just as sharp, and Tsunagu flexed his fingers as the dwelling shifted around them. Izuku only caught glimpses of the action before Shoto was standing in front of him, fire flaring at his fingertips and ice forming at his foot, and Hitoshi was pressing him to the ground, crouched protectively over him.

Although he only saw glimpses, he clearly saw where all the Alphas’ attacks slipped past or through Jest, as he vanished and reappeared, as slippery as the shadows themselves. His smile had faded and he looked almost bored, certainly unimpressed.

“Embarrassing display,” Jest tutted, “I come under the peaceful flag of diplomacy and you try to kill me before I’ve even said my piece. Rather poor excuse for leadership.” He glared between the Alphas, challenging them to speak. None of the Alphas did, but Izuku was under the impression this had less to do with their inability to speak and more to the point they were trying to find a way to kill Jest.

When the Alphas said nothing, Jest shrugged, a sharp, dismissive motion. “It was far too easy, you know,” he said, “doctoring your missives. Alphas are so plain in their speech. It’s simple to change their words, or erase them completely, and nothing is missed in what is left. A slip of a paper from the stack, and a map goes missing, and nobody questions it because you didn’t bother to talk much about it, just sent it along and assumed it would get to where it was going.” He was speaking of Toshinori, clearly, but his gaze was on Hitoshi and Izuku, as if only speaking to them.

A blade appeared in his hand, and the Alphas shifted into defensive positions. Hitoshi, already in a defensive position, pressed a hand to Izuku’s back, and Izuku hissed in response. He hadn’t realized he’d been crouched and ready to leap forward, to confront Jest himself. But he knew he wanted to attack Jest, rip him apart. Beg him to let Katsuki go. It was a bit of a coin flip on which would happen. Only Hitoshi’s hand on his back reminded him that doing so would be foolish – he would only endanger himself and trigger all the other alphas in the room, who were simply waiting for an excuse to explode.

Jest tapped the point of the knife to his lip, the same he might his finger while considering a rather interesting dilemma. It was taunting in a casual way, and the alphas again shifted in response to it. Izuku bared his teeth, felt how Hitoshi stayed completely still and quiet. Jest was still watching them, head tilted slightly, knife tapping, rhythmless.

“Now Mirai’s were much more difficult. I tried it once, but honestly it was more trouble than it was worth. The confusion between having Mirai’s communication left alone and your alpha’s shifted ever so slightly was enough, anyway. Toward the end, I think Mirai started suspecting that something was interfering, which was why he insisted on taking over communications. But you refused,” this he said with a poisonous smile toward Toshinori. “You should have listened. Mirai has a brilliant mind, and you underestimate him to your detriment. Not that it’s really your fault. Alphas in command always think they’re above reproach.”

“Enough of this!” Yoroi snarled suddenly. “You tricked us. The ferals. They are your doing, aren’t they?”

Jest barely gave him half a glance. “Is it really tricking if you’re the one who wanted it so badly? You, who were simply looking for an easy excuse.”

Yoroi growled and Shinya swayed backward, toward the shadows where he could have an advantage. Or he would, against anyone else. Jest was master of the shadows, and he would not be outdone by any of them while under the cover of the thick dwelling walls.

As much as Izuku wanted to watch Jest get torn apart, he knew now was not the place. Jest had only come because he knew he had an advantage. He’d learned from his last attack, and if the Alphas tried anything, he would be gone. But he also didn’t seem willing to try any violence himself this time. He stood before the group and he flashed knives and barbed words, but everything about him was distant. Cautious, but only if you were paying attention. The knives were a warning, the barbed words a veil to hide any nervousness.

Jest was here for a reason. Izuku could guess why.

He pushed up, moving from a ready crouch to a calm seat. Hitoshi kept a hand on his shoulder as he moved, though he too relaxed as Izuku did, shifting the tone of their bodies. Jest smiled as they did and although he didn’t move to match them, his knife disappeared down his sleeve.

“What do you want, Jest?” Izuku asked.

“What I have always wanted,” he said, then waved a hand. “But I know that’s not what you mean. I’ve come to talk. To answer questions. And to dispel any ridiculous notions you might be stewing up in my absence.”

“The ferals,” Hitoshi’s voice rose just as Jest’s words silenced, “your pack is connected to them.”

“Yes.” Jest smiled, clearly willing to give nothing else away.

“You’ve been killing my hunters,” Yoroi snarled.

Jest didn’t even look at him.

“You came here, to this region, for a reason,” Hitoshi pressed.

Jest’s smile gleamed in the low light. “It was happenstance that we found your packs. But once we did, we were intrigued. Do you know how unique your packs are?” He was speaking only to Izuku and Hitoshi, but he spread his hands to encompass them all – all the packs and all the Alphas present. “We have traveled far and wide, and never before has anyone in our pack seen something as you have here. There are no other packs living so close together, independent and separate, yet living in stable peace. Anywhere else, your packs would be in constant skirmishes. Vying for more territory, more resources. So we looked a little closer. And what did we find?” His gaze landed firmly on Izuku, and Toshinori snarled in reply.

“The aeon,” Izuku replied before his father could snap.

Jest nodded. “The aeon. Or, more broadly, the respect of omegas across your territories. The history of this aeon position is most likely the cause of most of the stability, though a strong beta population helps as well.” He cast a glance to the Alphas sitting nearby and tutted softly. “It was a shame to see all the packs led by alphas when you have such a strong core of betas and omegas in your midst. Not even one pack was wise enough to allow an omega or beta to lead them. That was going to be your downfall, eventually. We just happened by and… tipped the scales a little. Until someone else came along and righted them again.” Again, Jest looked to Izuku.

Izuku reminded himself to breathe, to keep steady and calm for the others’ sakes. They were quiet, listening, but aching for a fight. As pack Alphas, they would each be well aware that giving into the instinct to tear Jest apart would serve them no purpose. Better to let him talk, to give himself and his pack away, than scare him off. Jest spoke about the alphas as if they were instinctual monsters, but the simple way that they sat and listened to him rather than attack contradicted what he was saying.

Izuku also grimly noted that Jest never referred to the alphas by name, though he surely knew them.

“Has anyone thanked you for cleaning this mess up? Has anyone even acknowledged it?” Jest tilted his head, a question even in that small gesture. “We would thank you. We acknowledge your strength.”

“What,” Izuku said slowly, “do you actually want, Jest? Your pack. What do they want?”

“What every pack wants.” Jest cast a glance to every person in the room. The shadows curled around him, like vines climbing a wall. “Stability. Assurance that we will still be here tomorrow. We see that in your packs.” He caught Izuku’s eyes. For the first time, Izuku noticed that Jest’s irises were flecked with silver shards. “All we want is the same stability these packs have been granted, and we would be grateful and thankful for it, much more than anyone here will ever be.”

Izuku swallowed. He couldn’t look away from those flecks of silver.

Katsuki had mentioned there were no omegas in Jest’s pack. Why was that? Or, had they simply been hiding whenever Katsuki was nearby? What was really going on in their pack, and why did Jest sound so desperate suddenly?

Hitoshi shifted.

Izuku had forgotten he was right there and startled at the movement, but Hitoshi simply pressed his hand to Izuku’s back and said, “You’re wrong, you know.”

Jest tilted his head toward Hitoshi, an invitation to speak.

“It’s not just about the aeon,” Hitoshi continued. He also couldn’t seem to look away from Jest, but where Izuku felt captivated, Hitoshi was clearly sizing him up. “It’s about balance. You, more than anyone should know that. Might I suggest allowing your alphas to keep their names as a start?”

Jest was quiet. The entire room was boiling with tension. Everyone waited for someone else to move first.

Then, Jest smiled. “When they turn on you, and they will, because that is what all alphas do, just remember this.” As he spoke, Jest raised his hand to his neck, pulling his shirt aside to reveal a jagged line of scars down his scent gland. A marking bite, but wait. Izuku shuddered at the sight. The scars weren’t clean, the edges ripped and deep. Someone had hurt Jest, and he still wore the scars of it. He kept his hand far from those scars, even as he showed them to the room. “In the end, you can only look after yourself. Because, in the end, there will be no one left but yourself.”

Jest glanced again to Izuku. He pulled his shirt back into place. “I will remind you that although I cannot speak for the ferals, my pack has yet to take the life of anyone in these territories. So far, we have refrained. But it seems we might have to start using more… drastic measures.” The Alphas growled lowly, the dwelling rumbling with their collective fury, but Jest didn’t seem to notice. His attention was wholly on Izuku. “You are well aware of what we are capable. We do not want to proceed to violence, but if you force our hand, then so be it.”

“You dare threaten my son?” Toshinori snarled.

Jest’s gaze snapped toward him, his voice rising almost in admonishment. “My pack would never hurt your aeon. But the rest of you?” He gave that same poisonous smile, and from it, Izuku could read the rest.

You are unnecessary. Unneeded. Disposable.

Jest turned that smile to Izuku. “The invitation still stands. My aeon awaits. As does your alpha.” As his words faded, so did he, back into the shadows.

For a long, painful second, no one moved. Waiting for Jest to reappear, to attack. Even though Izuku knew he had no intention of openly attacking them. He didn’t have to. Not yet, anyway. That would come later, if he kept resisting.

The silence stretched. Izuku felt Hitoshi shift ever so slightly to look at him, as if expecting him to be the first time move, to do something.

Then, Toshinori turned.

The movement was fluid, natural, contemplative as he raised a hand to his chin and reached for Hitoshi’s map. Everyone else followed his movements, hungry for something to do, something to say. Someone to tear apart, perhaps.

Toshinori studied the map, and everyone held their breath.

Then, he looked up at Hitoshi. “Has your pack run exercises like this one before? I’m afraid we are only used to going in small groups.”

Something like relief seeped through those gathered, their attention directed toward the plan, any plan. Something to do, a place to put their unspent frustrations. Something that directed them toward the rogues, and whatever end they might be able to visit upon those who had harmed so many of them.

Hitoshi again hesitated, glancing toward Izuku. Izuku felt Shoto’s gaze on him as well, burning and icy in equal measure, conflicted in a terrible sort of way. Izuku knew he should offer something to both Hitoshi and Shoto, but he found nothing to do or say. Instead, all he could think about was the way Jest had smiled at Toshinori, as if already thinking about how to dismember him, piece by piece. Name, soul, body.

That smile had been easy, natural.

Jest still hadn’t used Katsuki’s name. Stripped him of that first level. Name. How long would it take them to strip away his soul, then to form his body to their liking? Or, maybe worse of all, to what they thought Izuku would like?

When Izuku could offer nothing, Hitoshi replied, “I’m afraid we don’t have a lot of experience as such. Though we would offer what we could.”

“Worry not,” Tsunagu somehow kept his voice decisive and unbothered, as if they had not all just been threatened. “My pack is used to working in both large and small groups for hunting and defensive purposes. We can assist in organizing such groups, if you will lend your warriors to the cause.”

It went on like that. The Alphas and Hitoshi organizing to find the rogues, hunt them down and draw them out, how they would find and rescue Katsuki, then force the rogues to leave or, if there was no other option, kill them all.

In the middle of it all, Katsuki’s name came up again and again. What would they do if the rogues threatened to hurt him? What would they do if Katsuki was already dead? What would they do if Katsuki refused to leave?

This last thought snagged hard in Izuku’s skin, a thorn he was afraid to yank free.

If Katsuki didn’t wish to leave, then it would be too late, and he knew it.

He felt Toshinori’s gaze on him as the question hung in the air, but his father had mercy enough not to say the obvious, that they would have to treat him as an enemy if he was determined to side with the rogues. Instead, he merely said, “It will be my burden to bare, if it comes to that.”

I will be the one to end him.

Izuku knew his father would be merciful. That thought was the worst of all that drifted in and out throughout the meeting.

When final preparations were decided, when Yoroi and Shinya were officially forgiven and welcomed back into the fold, and everyone stood to go, Toshinori remained sitting.

“Izuku, stay for a moment. Tsunagu, give us some time?”

Tsunagu nodded but left with the others. Yoroi and Shinya both bowed to Izuku before leaving, while only giving Toshinori a cautionary glance before turning their backs to him. Hitoshi paused for only a second before standing and following the Alphas out, Tensei at their back, ready to step in to smooth over any tensions as they rose. Only Shoto paused, bristling silently as Izuku refused to look at him.

“Shoto, please,” Toshinori lowered his voice, not a command but a request.

For a second, Shoto debated whether to listen.

Izuku finally looked up, smiled at him. “It’s okay,” he said.

Shoto didn’t move.

“Just a moment,” Toshinori asked, and Shoto took a breath.

He stood reluctantly, as if peeling his limbs free of sap. He swayed when he stood, clearly wanting to say something. Then, he stumbled out of the dwelling, leaving Toshinori and Izuku sitting side by side without looking at one another.

The table sat in front of them, Hitoshi’s rough map now strewn with additional lines and other maps and organizational charts. Hitoshi had written those while the Alphas had spoken, negotiated, argued. He had made sure their final wishes were marked out, so they could be referenced.

“Hitoshi will be a great head beta,” Izuku said. He wasn’t sure why this was what he chose to say first. But it was easier to praise Hitoshi than to say what he really wanted to say.

Toshinori ran a hand across his forehead, smoothing away some ache.

“I have to go to meet their aeon.” The words came easily, simply. Izuku wasn’t sure how it was so natural to say them.

“No,” Toshinori’s reply came just as naturally, a half snarl of sudden emotion, “absolutely not. I will not allow you to put yourself in danger like that.”

“Alpha, I have to—”

“No! We try this plan.” He pressed both palms to Hitoshi’s map, clinging to what it meant, what it represented. An answer. “It will work. We will make it work.”

Izuku wanted so badly for that to be true. He wanted to be able to nod his head and know, in his heart, that everything would be okay. His father and the other Alphas would go out. They would find Jest’s pack. And they would bring Katsuki back to them.

But he knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

“Jest heard everything we were talking about.” Izuku said plainly. “That’s how he knew when to step in. He knows our plans. They’ll be ready. If we push them too much, they’ll retaliate and people could get hurt. Unnecessarily. I have to go.”

His father started steaming, though his form remained the same. One hand curled into a fist.

He stared down at the map when he asked, “Izuku, are you in love with Katsuki?

The words snagged unexpected in Izuku’s ears. He’d been ready to argue with his father on any number of topics, but not this one. All the calm he’d pulled together, all the steadiness he’d built crumbled instantly, and all Izuku could do was open and close his mouth.

Only when Toshinori looked up at him did Izuku find the courage to swallow. His father’s face was grooved, deep lines of sorrow tracing like scars down his face, eyes cast in dark, hollow pits. He looked so tired. That look made Izuku want to curl up in his father’s lap, like he used to when he was young, and purr until his father fell asleep.

But he was much too old for that now, and they had no time for a nap, as much as they might want it.

And besides. His father had asked him a question.

Izuku took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m in love.” He said slowly. “Katsuki… makes me feel different from anyone else. But… I don’t know if it’s love. Maybe in time, it would be.” He felt his father’s gaze on him, trying to dig out more than just what his words meant. Izuku met that gaze head on, hiding nothing. “I do know this. I have a duty owed to Katsuki. As aeon, and as successor.”

Toshinori wilted a little when he said successor, his gaze trailing away, the smoke thinning from around him. Again, he pressed a hand to his forehead. “I never wanted to put that burden on you. Successor. My successor. I never wanted that for you.”

“Did you not trust me?” Izuku asked.

“No!” His father jolted upright, arms stretching for Izuku, and Izuku gladly let him draw him into an embrace. “No, it was never about trust. I just… I know what it means to be Alpha. I know what it means to lead. But I don’t know what it would mean for you, if I named you successor. It would be different. I wouldn’t be able to….” He trailed off, his arms lax around Izuku’s shoulders.

Izuku tightened his grip, refusing to let go or be let go. “It’s okay. You would be able to help me. You help me with being aeon, and you’ve never been aeon before. It’s okay.” He paused, then whispered into his father’s shoulder, “I want this.”

Toshinori shuddered, brought a hand to the back of Izuku’s head. His arms were heavy against him, just as exhausted as his eyes. “I’m sorry. I never doubted you. I hope you know that.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Izuku clung a little tighter. “But you have to let me do this.”

Toshinori said nothing. He just clung to Izuku, tight, tight, tighter.

They sat like that for a long while, father and son, alpha and aeon.

Leader, and successor.

- - -

They took Izuku home and the pack buried him in love and warmth and relief. The relief was palpable, a heavy web that lay in scattered remnants around everything the pack did. Every now and then, someone would stumble through those broken webs and tensions would rise again. Warriors growled at one another. Omegas shrunk away when anyone stepped too near. Betas clung to their friends and partners, unwilling to let them leave their sights. And alphas stalked through the village, swinging their heads from side to side, searching for trouble.

Izuku did his best.

He walked through the village, sweeping up the debris of his absence by allowing nearly every pack member to nuzzle into him, to seek reassurance and comfort from him. It started first when they arrived back home, when those left behind swarmed forward to yip and growl and greet him. Small scuffles broke out as people jostled to try to get closer to him, but were swiftly corrected when Izuku snapped at them. Then, he walked those familiar paths, ensuring everyone knew he was home.

His path ended in an unexpected place, his feet dragging him to the one person that had been on his mind, even if tangentially.

Kaya’s garden looked less green than usual. Not quite wilted, never wilted, but certainly with less life. Her daughters were strewn around the entrance to Kaya’s dwelling, prowling like warriors protecting a pup, but when they saw Izuku, they visibly relaxed.

Until, they realized, that Katsuki was still not with him.

Izuku could see the disappointment, the fear, in their eye, but they still greeted him as warmly as all the others had, and asked for him to see their mother.

“She needs you,” the eldest said, and her sisters nodded, solemn.

Shoto, who had stayed in Izuku’s shadow, never straying farther than an arm’s length, shared a look with him, and without anything else needing to be said, settled just outside Kaya’s dwelling, her daughters gathered near him, watching Izuku.

Izuku smiled, as reassuring as he could be, and stepped up to Kaya’s dwelling. “Kaya? It’s me, Izuku. May I come in?”

A long pause. Then, “Might as well.”

Kaya’s voice was gravelly, weak. Izuku’s stomach clenched as he swept the covering aside and stepped inside. He half expected to find her curled up in bed, weak and nearly-wilting as her garden. Instead, he found her sitting at the very center of her dwelling, her chin raised, her eyes sharp. Only the red-rimmed edges spoke of anything being wrong.

When Izuku stepped inside, Kaya’s eyes went behind him, waiting to see if someone else would come in with him. But of course, no one did, and when Izuku settled in front of her, Kaya shut her eyes.

“I’m a fool, aeon.”

Izuku considered her. “If I was the one to say that to you, you would probably say something along the lines of, we are all fools sometimes.”

Kaya snorted. “Clever boy, aren’t you?” She sighed. “Have I ever told you the one wish I was never able to grant my beloved when he was alive?”

Again, Izuku paused to think. “I don’t remember anything in particular.”

“He had always wanted a son.”

Kaya opened her eyes. Tears lined her lashes, but didn’t fall. She sat there, stubborn and enduring, even as she clearly started breaking down the middle. “Did he leave, then?”

Kaya, Izuku knew, was talking about Katsuki. “No. He was taken.”

Kaya nodded, contemplative. Then, “I suppose he is lost, then. Toshinori has you back now. That is all he wanted.”

“Katsuki isn’t lost.” Speaking his name jolted a tear loose from Kaya’s lashes. She raised a hand to delicately wipe at it as Izuku leaned toward her. “I promise, Kaya. I’m going to get him back.”

“Your life is precious,” Kaya said, though her words were numb and meaningless.

“And so is his.” Izuku bit his lip. “He is… precious to me, too. I will get him back.”

Somehow, Kaya only looked sadder for his words. She reached out, took his hand. Her hand was still slightly wet from her tear. “Do not,” she said firmly, “let the rogues do you harm in his stead. He would never forgive you. And the pack would never survive without you.”

“Don’t worry,” Izuku smiled when he said it, that same smile he’d practiced so often it looked convincing. But Kaya only frowned when she saw it. “I’ll be okay. And I’ll make sure he comes home.”

Kaya searched his face, then nodded toward her garden. “Take a spider lily with you.”

Izuku blinked. “The… flower?”

“Yes. It will help, in any way it can.” Kaya’s face softened. “They remember him.”

Izuku said nothing, simply nodded, and told Kaya to take care of herself. Outside, her daughters huddled around each other, staring back up at him. He cleared his throat. “She asked me to take a spider lily with me.”

The daughters turned their attention to a small patch of spider lilies, which they debated hotly over which to gift to Izuku, and eventually gave him a bright crimson flower, so similar to the one Katsuki had gifted him. How long ago had that been? It felt like ages, but also mere days.

Izuku tucked the flower into his robes. “Don’t worry,” he gave the daughters that same practiced smile, and they looked relieved to see it, “Katsuki will come home. I promise.”

- - -

That night, Izuku slept in the pack nest. The pack gathered tightly around him, leaving him almost no space to breathe, desperate to keep him safe, to be near him. Centered among them, the pack finally settled and slept, perhaps for the first time since he’d been taken.

In that late hour, when the pack had settled, Izuku pushed himself up. He made his way to the edge of the room, where a guard sat by the door. He looked up at Izuku, a question in his face. Izuku made an apologetic motion for needing to relieve himself, and the guard settled and let him pass.

Outside, Shoto sat. He was sulking, Izuku knew. He didn’t look up when Izuku stepped out of the pack house.

Izuku paused to nuzzle into him, trying to reassure him, and himself. He would come back to Shoto. They had to believe he would be back.

Shoto took his hand, his grip so tight Izuku didn’t think he’d let go. Then, he said, “Be careful,” and his grip loosened.

Izuku slipped free, and hurried toward the nearest watchtower. In the bushes at the tree’s base, there was a small pack, another set of clothes set out, ready for him. Hunter’s garb. There was a second set in the pack. Izuku dressed and tied the pack over his shoulder, pausing to make sure he’d tucked the spider lily into place under his tunic. The spindly petals caressed the skin above his heart.

He rose, glanced up at the watchtower. Icy blue eyes stared back down at him. It was odd to see Enji in a watchtower; Izuku couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the alpha take on watchtower duty. But of course, he was usually busy with other, more important tasks. This night, his one and only task was to keep an eye on Izuku for as long as he could.

There was something in the way Enji looked down at him. Grudging, perhaps, but in a way that made Izuku think he was endeared by what the omega was doing. When he met Izuku’s eyes, he nodded, ever so slightly, and Izuku returned the nod.

With that done, Izuku pulled his coat hood over his head, and slipped out into the forest.

He didn’t know how long it would take, but he knew if he walked far enough, Jest would appear. So he hurried, not wanting to waste any time, slipping between trees and under fallen trunks, disappearing into the forests he had known his whole life, forests that seemed darker than they’d ever been.

It wasn’t much longer before Izuku caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye and froze, some long-buried instinct holding him in place.

In a single shaft of moonlight, Jest was watching him, perched like a crow on a gnarled root. He was smiling, but his smile was softer than Izuku remembered. Happier, perhaps. Unforced.

“Aeon,” Jest greeted warmly.

Izuku swallowed. He adjusted the pack on his shoulders. “Well. Are you going to take me to meet your aeon?”

Jest uncoiled, standing tall in the moonlight. He held out his hand, an offer. “Follow me. We aren’t very far.”

Chapter Text

Jest moved like liquid through the trees. There was an odd confidence about his movements, as if he were right in his element despite belonging to a roaming rogue pack. Even Izuku didn’t move quite as smoothly as Jest did through the trees, though that probably had more to do with Izuku not venturing beyond the village very often. Whenever he stumbled or started lagging behind, Jest would circle quickly back to him, offering assistance or simply swaying nearby, ready to help.

Betas always had a way of seeming aloof about a situation while being deeply invested. Jest traveled the forest as if he were most interested in getting to his pack, but he was just as invested in ensuring Izuku’s path remained open as well. More than once, they veered slightly off the more worn path due to some obstruction Jest had seen far ahead of Izuku, sometimes as simple as a puddle and others a massive tree fallen across the path. Izuku didn’t know why he was surprised to find Jest very beta-like in how he led him through the forest, but it was there.

In a way, he reminded Izuku a lot of Mirai, just with much less scruples.

The thought did not comfort him, knowing that Mirai was deeply, almost to his own detriment, loyal to Toshinori. Izuku would not be surprised to find Jest’s loyalty for his aeon ran just as deep.

They did not speak on the way to the pack, save for once, as Izuku sensed they were growing close. Then, he said, “I want to see Katsuki.”

“You will,” Jest said, as if that had been expected. “He will be waiting.”

“I want to see Katsuki first.”

Jest tilted his head. “Very well.”

Soon after, Jest paused atop a root jutted up from the ground as if wrenched toward the sky. “Here,” he said, indicating just below the roots. When Izuku peered closer, he saw a slight opening, a tunnel leading below the trees.

He glanced up at Jest. “You go first.”

The tunnels were small at first, small enough that they had to crouch to get through the entrance, but soon after, the walls peeled open until both Izuku and Jest could stand comfortably, though Izuku thought many alphas or betas with larger frames would be cramped. The tunnel walls were smooth, the ground free of rocks and snarled roots, as if a giant mole had clawed its way through the ground. Thin vines twisted along the ceiling, glowing with soft light, just enough to see their way through.

Jest walked just as comfortably through the tunnels as he had the forest above, but Izuku found himself sinking into a most defensive posture the farther down they went. The slope of the tunnel was insipidly slight, enough that most might not even notice, but Izuku was hypervigilant, could feel the slight dip of his toes away from his heels with each step.

Without looking over his shoulder, Jest said, “If you’re concerned about your forest, you should not be. One of our own, Seeds, makes these nests for our pack. Another feeds the vines light, so they might show our path.”

Izuku turned Jest’s words over slowly. “I’m guessing since you gave Seeds a name, they are either a beta or omega. And the person who has the blessing over the vines is an alpha.”

Jest turned a toothed grin over his shoulder. “You’re quick on the uptake. Yes, Seeds is an omega, and Alpha has his uses.”

An omega. Izuku bit his lip, wondering how much he should say to Jest. Eventually, he said, “Katsuki mentioned he hadn’t seen any omegas with your pack. He thought you didn’t have any.”

Jest laughed and waved a hand, dismissive. “We would never allow an unmated alpha near the omegas. Even the mated ones cause trouble every now and then, though for the most part they understand there is something to lose if they act up. Best to keep the rest away from the more civilized members of the pack.”

Izuku was glad Jest couldn’t see the glare he pinned between the beta’s shoulders. “Why have alphas in your pack at all if you think so little of them?”

“As I said. Alphas are useful, in their own way. You simply need to know how to keep them under control.”

While Izuku might have had something else to say, his thoughts broke off suddenly when their tunnel ended, opening to an area much larger than he would have thought possible underground.

The space yawned like the open mouth of a beast, slightly moist and infinitely confining, the ceiling above decorated with swirls of the same blue vines that had led their way through the tunnels. Splayed out like teeth across the opening were dwellings built of stretched leather and carved wooden poles, most vaguely triangular. It was hard to tell one apart from the other, save for small adornments Izuku noticed as they drew closer, etched into the supporting wooden poles. The space was too dark to see how far it reached, nor to count how many dwellings were lined up within.

Jest led him past the dwellings without a second glance. Izuku kept close to him, but he searched for signs of life. Every now and then, he could see movement in the slit between the stretched leather, or the glint of an eye peering out at him. Once, a face appeared from the dark, round and feminine, her eyes hard and glossy. When she met Jest’s gaze, she slipped back inside.

“They are curious to see you,” Jest said by way of explanation, though Izuku didn’t quite know what he meant.

“Where are the alphas?” He asked instead, thinking of Katsuki.

“Down a different tunnel, guarded by our best betas.” Jest gestured vaguely.

“I said I wanted to see Katsuki first,” Izuku said.

“He is here, not to worry.” There was something ominous in the way Jest said that, but Izuku chose not to press for answers. At that moment, all he wanted was to see Katsuki, to know he was alive.

At the center of the opening, a different sort of structure rose up. It was built of earth, as if pulled from the ground and formed into a dome-like complex. A tongue, curled to welcome morsels of food. Izuku tried desperately to banish the image, but it fit too well, the earthen dome lifted amongst rows of teeth-like tents.

The only person out in the open sat at the open arch leading into the dome. At first, Izuku didn’t recognize him, until he lifted his head and every instinct in him screamed.

It was Alpha. The Alpha who had strode through the dining hall, who had grasped Kenji by the throat, who had terrified Katsuki.

As they approached, he slowly rumbled to his feet, dipping his head to Jest, then bowing to Izuku. “All is well,” he said without emotion.

Jest walked past without acknowledging him. “Come in, aeon. You are welcome here.”

Izuku paused, eying Alpha. He kept his gaze down, clearly waiting for Izuku to walk past.

“Ignore him. He’s well trained,” Jest said.

Something in Izuku twisted. He wanted to hit Jest. He wanted to take Alpha by the face and shake him.

Mostly, he just wanted to know the poor man’s name.

Slowly, he walked past Alpha. There was nothing he could do for him at the moment.

Inside, there was a wall, two hallways shooting off to their left and right, circling the outside structure and winding inward. Jest gestured for him to come left.

“My aeon is at the heart. Your alpha is positioned in an anteroom nearby.”

Again, Izuku didn’t like the way Jest spoke of Katsuki, but he kept his mouth shut.

They followed the hallway past a couple archways, one of which led into a food storeroom where two omega women looked up as they passed, pausing in their food preparations to follow Jest and Izuku with wary gazes, and another which led into a small nest-like den full of pillows and rugs but was currently empty.

The next archway was covered by a beaded blanket and guarded by a beta. The beta was knelt at the entrance, tracing patterns in the dirt on the floor, though he paused when Jest and Izuku rounded the corner.

Jest smiled and the warrior rose silently. “We are expected, Boot. Is the alpha still here?”

The beta bowed his head, then parted the curtain with a soft tinkling of wooden beads. Far too similar to the sound that came from Izuku’s own coat, decorated with the beads of his pack.

Jest ducked inside and, after pausing to glance at the beta, Izuku followed.

The room they stepped into was small, Jest having already crossed to the other side before Izuku could step inside. Izuku spotted Jest first, searching as always for signs of aggressive or violence from him, then his gaze fell to the person knelt at the center of the room and he gasped.

“Katsuki!”

Before he could stop himself, Izuku threw his arms around the alpha, dragging him close enough to bury into his coat. Katsuki was cold and slack in his arms, nearly lifeless, and he gave no reaction when Izuku called his name.

His face was tilted up, toward the ceiling, eyes open, searching.

“Katsuki,” Izuku said again, and again he gave no reaction. As if he didn’t recognize the sound of his own name. Or Izuku, for that matter.

Jest politely cleared his throat and only then did Izuku realize there was another, heavier curtain across the room. “My aeon waits,” he said. When Izuku didn’t move, Jest added, “You’ve seen your alpha. He will remain here until we are finished.”

Something in the way he said it made Izuku’s entire body bristle. His coat reacted, the feathers starting to stand on end, and Katsuki shifted slightly, his gaze flicking to Izuku’s face for the first time. Still, he didn’t react, didn’t recognize him.

Whatever had been done to Katsuki, Izuku knew he couldn’t leave him alone. Nor could he let Jest order him around. What had Tensei said about negotiations? Push the boundaries, see what people were willing to concede, to establish exactly where you stood.

So Izuku growled low at Jest, and said, “What did you do to him?”

Jest shrugged. “Calmed him. As we do all our alphas. It’s for his own good, as well as for the good of the pack.”

The good of the pack. The words were vile slipping from Jest’s tongue.

“Now come along. My aeon awaits.”

Izuku didn’t move. He tried to remember any signs of dominance and submission he’d seen from Jest. But no, he couldn’t remember Jest submitting to anyone. But…

Alpha, when he had come to their pack. Hadn’t he dipped his head toward Izuku in deference?

Taking a chance, Izuku lifted his chin, bared his teeth, and snarled, “It’s not your place to order me.”

For a moment, Jest looked stunned. If Izuku had physically struck him, he didn’t think Jest would be so shocked. But after a moment, the beta recovered with an effortless laugh and a slow bow of his head. “Of course, aeon. I shall inform my aeon of your arrival. When you are ready, we will be waiting within.” And with that said, he slipped through the curtains and disappeared.

Leaving him and Katsuki alone.

For a long second, Izuku considered trying to run. But there was Boot just outside the door and Alpha at the exit and however many others, plus the network of tunnels to navigate before they even reached the forest. And Katsuki was still staring, dull and nearly limp. He would be in no condition to defend himself, nor did Izuku think he could fend off the rogue pack by himself. They might not want to kill him, but they were more than willing to force him if he disobeyed their wishes. No doubt Jest would simply appear and drag him through the shadows to his aeon. And then what would become of Katsuki?

No. He had to see this through.

But first—

Izuku held Katsuki at arm’s length. Katsuki lifted his gaze back to the ceiling, not quite ignoring Izuku but clearly not interested in him. Izuku looked up, but there was nothing there that should be holding his attention.

“Katsuki,” he tried, then again, a little harsher, “Katsuki!”

No reaction.

Izuku ground his teeth. He took a steadying breath, and said, “Alpha.”

Katsuki’s eyes dropped to the ground, his head bowing forward in a terrible sign of submission. Izuku felt sick as Katsuki sat there, waiting for him to speak again.

“It’s me,” he tried, “Izuku. You know me.”

Katsuki kept his head bowed. He gave no sign he recognized that name either.

Emotion swelled, sudden and heavy, building in Izuku’s throat until he had to bury his face into Katsuki’s shoulder to keep from sobbing. Whatever Jest and his aeon had done to Katsuki had already torn him apart this much. He was little more than a puppet, waiting for his strings to be pulled.

I’m too late.