Chapter Text
“This is outrageous! We can't possibly pay off this debt you have given up on us!” His father’s voice was like a blade cutting through the stillness of the house, filled with desperation and anger. Izuku instinctively peeked through the small cracks in the sliding door, his bright green eyes catching the dim glow of a lantern illuminating his parents’ faces.
“This is what happens when you make promises you can’t keep with the Bakugo family,” came the cold, clipped tone of a woman seated across from his parents. She exuded a presence that sent shivers down Izuku’s spine even from his hiding spot.
Izuku shrank back when his father shot to his feet, the chair clattering loudly behind him. He pressed his hands to his mouth, stifling a gasp. His little fists curled tightly against his lips, trembling as he tried to make himself even smaller.
“But our family’s farm, built over generations, will be lost because of you!” his father exclaimed. The woman tilted her head, unfazed.
“Why should I care?” she replied coolly. “I want the papers signed this week to transfer the farm to me.”
“Wait! But we have a daughter…” his father interrupted. His mother’s head snapped toward him in shock.
“Oh? I thought it was a boy. What was her name again… Izuku?”
Izuku blinked, the words tumbling around in his head as he tried to make sense of them. What did that mean? What did they mean about him?
The noise in the room behind him faded into a blur as Izuku’s instincts took over. He turned and began to waddle away, his small steps making faint tapping noises against the floor. He knew he shouldn’t be awake, shouldn’t be out wandering the house, but he had only wanted to fetch some water.
As he tiptoed outside, the cool night air wrapped around him, sending a shiver through his body. His thin clothes—patched where holes had been stitched closed—looked worn and dirty, but that was to be expected when you lived on a farm. His bare feet sank gently into the soft dirt path, leading him toward the back garden.
Izuku froze when he noticed another figure out there, small and solitary, sitting in the middle of the garden path and staring up at the glowing moon. The boy—no older than Izuku himself—had unruly blond hair that caught the moonlight, making it seem almost like a halo. He wore a long coat that was far too big for his small frame, draped over his shoulders like a protective shield.
He wore expensive, probably imported clothes—thick fabrics that spoke of wealth—and gold earrings that gleamed in the light. His scent was fresh, almost luxurious. In stark contrast, Izuku stood out as the complete opposite. His clothes were worn and faded, a stain of mud still marking his cheek from the small boxes of fruit he'd been hauling earlier that afternoon.
Izuku hesitated, his hand clutching the edge of his shirt tighter. “Who are you?” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the night.
The boy jumped, startled, and whipped around to glare at Izuku with crimson eyes that glinted dangerously in the moonlight. Despite his small stature, he carried an air of defiance, his lip curling slightly to reveal sharp little fangs.
"Who’s asking?" the boy retorted, pulling the coat tighter around himself and crossing his arms. He narrowed his eyes at Izuku, his posture tense, like a cornered animal preparing to strike.
Izuku instinctively took a small step back, his omega instincts flaring uneasily under the boy’s dominant presence. “I... I’m Izuku,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
The boy’s glare didn’t soften, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. “What are you doing out here?”
Izuku hesitated before responding, shifting uncomfortably. “I could ask you the same thing. You shouldn’t be out this late.”
The boy’s body stiffened, small fists clenching at his sides. “You’re not the boss of me!" he snapped, then quickly stopped, taking a deep breath. "And—and you shouldn’t be here either,” he muttered, his tone softer this time, though still defiant.
Izuku’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I know,” he mumbled, shame coloring his cheeks. He stared at the ground for a moment before mustering the courage to ask, “Can I sit there?” He pointed at the patch of dirt beside the blond boy.
The boy shrugged, his movements stiff but not rejecting the idea. Izuku took that as permission and slowly approached, carefully settling beside the boy. They sat in silence for a moment, both gazing at the small, moonlit garden before them.
“Are my parents in trouble?” Izuku asked hesitantly, breaking the silence.
The blond boy frowned, his crimson eyes flicking toward Izuku. “Why should I know? I’m five,” he said with a huff.
Izuku blinked, his lips twitching upward slightly at the response. “I’m four,” he said, his voice muffled as he brought both hands up to cover his mouth like a bunny hiding its face.
The blond boy glanced at him and scoffed. “Tch. Are you an omega?”
Izuku nodded shyly, his green hair falling into his eyes. “Are you an alpha?” he asked quietly.
The boy smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Yeah. Name’s Katsuki,” he said with a nod, then blinked as if something had just crossed his mind. “About your parents... Dunno. It’s just adult stuff. Dad says I don’t have to worry about that yet. Says ‘I’ve got a lot on my’…” He trailed off,
“Plate?” Izuku offered, tilting his head curiously.
Katsuki snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That. Says I should just focus on being a kid or something.”
Izuku’s wide green eyes remained fixed on the moon, its pale light reflecting in their depths. Beside him, Katsuki glanced at the omega, noting how serene and lost in thought Izuku seemed.
“I’m not worried,” Izuku said suddenly, his voice soft but steady. “My parents are smart. It’ll be okay.”
Izuku’s calm confidence seemed to catch him off guard. He turned his gaze back to the moon, a small frown tugging at his lips.
Now it was Izuku's turn to glance at Katsuki, taking in the details—the long, dark lashes framing his sharp eyes. His omega side stirred, the urge to purr rising within him, and of course, Katsuki noticed. It wasn’t like Izuku was good at hiding it either.
“What do I have on my face?” Katsuki asked, his voice sharp.
Izuku didn’t look away. “Nothing...You look…”
“Look what?” Katsuki interrupted it was like he was trying to cover himself even more, though Izuku only found it endearing.
Before either could speak again, a sharp gasp broke the stillness. “Oh my god, Izuku! What are you doing awake at this hour?”
Both boys flinched, heads snapping to the side to find Inko standing there, her expression a mixture of shock. Her eyes flickered between Izuku and Katsuki before she suddenly bowed—almost unnaturally low—toward Katsuki. Without a word, she grabbed Izuku by the hand and yanked him away.
“You’re not supposed to be talking to him!” she hissed, her voice low and urgent.
Izuku blinked, his confusion written all over his face. “Why not?” he asked.
The more he asked, the more his mother’s frustration seemed to build. “And why aren’t you mad at Katsuki for being up this late too?” Izuku added, tilting his head. “And why did you bow so low?”
Inko’s grip on his hand tightened as she began dragging him away. “You ask too many questions. Come on. Back to your room,” she muttered under her breath.
As Izuku stumbled along, trying to keep up with his mother’s pace, he turned back to look at Katsuki. The blond boy was still sitting there, watching them silently. Izuku raised his free hand and waved enthusiastically, the innocence in his gesture impossible to miss.
“You look um… handsome! See you another time, Kacchan!”
Katsuki’s eyes widened slightly, his usual confidence faltering for a moment, and his mother’s jaw nearly dropped. “Oh my god, Izuku, don’t be giving him nicknames!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in panic. “Do you want us to be in even more danger? You’re a skittish kid, but sometimes you’re just too bold!”
Izuku stumbled again as his mother quickened her pace, forcing him to walk faster than his little legs could manage. Katsuki remained in the garden, staring at his hand as if Izuku’s words had left a mark.
“Kacchan,” he murmured under his breath.
*
*
Years later
“You… sold me off to the Bakugo family?” Izuku’s voice trembled, the weight of the realization crashing down on him. “To be one of the omegas in Katsuki Bakugo’s concubine?”
His mother flinched at his words, her face pale “Izuku, we can explain,” she began, her voice shaky.
Izuku’s mind reeled. He stared at her, his heart pounding. “Why wasn’t I even…”
“Told?” Hisashi finished, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?! As if you’d say something about it? As if you could do anything?”
“Stop it, Hisashi,” Inko whispered, her hands trembling in her lap. She looked at Izuku, her eyes pleading. “It’s not like that. We didn’t have a choice…”
Izuku’s voice cracked as he asked, “Am I doing this to protect your name? Is that it?”
"You are not protecting our name, Izuku," his father, Hizashi, said, his voice cold and devoid of any paternal warmth. "In fact, we don’t care about our name anymore. Those rich royals want a woman for their son, you fit the bill. You should be happy."
Izuku's breath hitched, his chest tightening. He stared at his father, searching for any trace of regret, but there was none. Just an unsettling detachment.
Izuku should have known something was off the moment the fancy carriage arrived at their humble, broken-down farmhouse. The contrast was too stark—this wasn’t a visit one would expect at a place like theirs.
Two royal guards, their uniforms far fancier than any clothes Izuku owned, stood by the carriage, their presence more than a little suspicious. Izuku had assumed his parents had struck a deal with one of the most powerful families in Japan, maybe to sell their harvest or secure their farm’s future. What he didn’t know, what he couldn’t have imagined, was that he himself had been the product on the table—not their fruit, not their land—but him.
“You… knew what you were sending me there for,” Izuku whispered, his voice breaking. His hands clenched against his chest, gripping at his heart as though it might burst from the overwhelming pain.
“You are sending me to die!” he screamed, the words echoing within the confines of the carriage. His whole body shook as he struggled to breathe, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.
“Everyone knows how strict the Bakugo family is,” he continued, his green eyes wide with terror and disbelief. “If they find out I’m a man, they’re going to—” His hand shot up to his neck, trembling fingers clutching at his throat as if he could already feel the noose tightening around it.
He lunged forward, grabbing his father by the front of his shirt, his tears streaming down his cheeks. “How dare you! You knew that! You think they’ll just stop at me? They’re going to kill you both, too!”
“Except they won’t,” his mother, Inko, interjected quietly. Her hands covered her face, but her voice was steady, devoid of the panic that consumed Izuku.
“What do you mean?” Izuku demanded, his voice shaking.
Hizashi pried Izuku’s hands off his shirt with a rough jerk, throwing the boy back into his seat. Izuku landed awkwardly, his wide eyes fixed on his mother, desperate for an answer.
“We will be out of the country by then,” Inko said, her words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “We don’t care about our name anymore. Our lives are more important. We’d rather die with peace of mind than face whatever torture the Bakugo family would inflict on us.”
“Torture?” Izuku choked out, his voice barely audible.
“For not paying off the debt,” Hizashi added flatly. “Or for sending our son instead of a daughter. But that won’t be our problem anymore.”
Izuku’s mouth hung open, his mind reeling. The room felt like it was closing in on him, suffocating him. They—they sent him to die. His parents had sent him to be killed.
“You’re going to rebuild a life somewhere else,” Izuku continued, his voice rising in desperation. “You’re going to be happy without me. You’re going to throw me to the wolves, and it’s fine because, in the end, I saved you! My sacrifice is going to save your selfish lives because you couldn’t handle your damn debt!”
His breathing became ragged, each inhale sharp and painful. He clutched at his chest, the enormity of his situation crashing down on him. “I’m going to die,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Tears streamed down his face as he screamed, “Look at me! At least look at me so it can sink in! So you can understand what you’ve done to me!” His voice broke, raw, and filled with anguish. “They’re going to find out I’m a man, and I’ll be executed for lying!”
Inko kept her face turned away, her shoulders trembling.
“Do you not care?!” Izuku cried, his voice hoarse. “I’m going to be tortured! Mom! How can you let this happen? How /dare/ you?!”
The carriage jolted to a stop, and the sound of heavy boots approached. Izuku froze, his body going rigid as the door swung open. A group of guards stood outside.
“No, no, no…” Izuku whispered, his voice quivering as panic overtook him. His eyes darted between the guards and his parents.
A hand rested heavily on his shoulder. Izuku flinched, his body trembling uncontrollably. He looked up to see his father’s hand, the coldness in Hisashi’s eyes cut deeper than any blade could.
“At least you’re doing us a favor,” Hisashi said, his voice devoid of any emotion. He gave Izuku a slight push toward the waiting guards. “Don’t worry—we’ll make sure to live happily, thanks to your sacrifice.”
Izuku stumbled out of the carriage, his legs weak beneath him. The guards were on him immediately, their firm grips locking around his arms to prevent him from turning back.
“No!” Izuku screamed, his voice breaking as he thrashed against their hold. “Don’t leave me! You liars!”
The carriage door slammed shut, and the horses began to move. Izuku struggled desperately.
“Don’t leave me!” he cried, tears streaming down his face as he watched the carriage move back to the gates.
“Hold yourself,” one of the guards barked. “This is not how an educated woman behaves.”
“I’m not a woman!” Izuku wanted to shout but didn't, in fear of the punishment coming in too soon
Izuku’s scent, sour and sharp with the distress of an omega in utter agony, filled the air, making even the beta guards grimace. He could barely see through his tears, his vision blurred as he sobbed uncontrollably.
He didn’t want to die.
TBC