Prime & His Enigma

Zero.

At the turn of the century, society had evolved beyond the bi-gendered divide of male or female. Alphas began to be born and, shortly after their numbers reached the hundreds, the first omega breathed life. Those born alpha or omega forsake the attachment to the social constructs of masculine or feminine, regardless of their biological outward appearance and pronouns became a fluid choice. An alpha was an alpha and an omega was an omega. The male and female beta society, though larger in number, was forced to linguistically and socially evolve with them.

Today, alphas embody roughly thirty percent of the world’s population. They tend to fill roles of leadership and military might, for they are physically strong, assertive and, when left unchecked, have a tendency towards domination and aggression. With the evolution of quirks, it is primarily alphas that have sought out hero work, but it should also be noted that the most infamous villains are also alphas. It is not uncommon to find an inner hierarchy amongst alphas within the same pack.

Betas still create the brunt of society, about sixty percent. Though they have evolved quirks, betas have underdeveloped scent glands that can only produce weak or mild scents that have little-to-no effect on the other genders. Their nasal capabilities are unevolved as well.

The balance to alphas is the omega; however, they only create nearly nine percent of the world’s population. That means for every three alphas, there may only be one omega to balance them out, so many alphas end up with betas and occasionally even other alphas. In the beginning, all omegas were believed to be intersexed, but though they have both phallus and vagina—regardless of the size and shape of their mammary glands—omegas do not produce sperm.

Because of the rarity of omegas, many cultures keep them protected or sheltered. Some societies have even given them a permanent dependent status. However, in the last few decades there have been several Omega Rights Movements, though none have been wholly successful.

The last percentage of the world’s population is the rarest of the rare. The elusive, exultant Prime. And what is a prime? An apex predator. The supreme alpha. An embodiment of perfection in every way, able to command even the already esteemed alphan gender. To be an alpha was already a one in a thousand superiority, but a prime alpha? One in a million. And who is it that balances out such a demigod? Why, a creature known only in myth: the Enigma.

Kacchan & Deku, Age 9

Katsuki could feel it in his blood, the heat; he could feel it just under his skin, like he was about to burst in a million different directions. He was just waiting for the spark. It would happen soon. Few more hours, maybe, definingly before tomorrow.

He looked at the clock hanging above the teacher’s head. Three minutes to lunch. He shuffled impatiently in his seat. Stupid clock couldn’t move fast enough. He twirled his pencil, ignoring the boring lecture. This was all so stupid, so pointless. He would have convinced his parents to let him stay home today if it wouldn’t have ruined his plan.

The wind blew in from the open window, carrying a soft scent only he could smell. It sent a tingling, pleasant shiver through Katsuki, and it took everything in him not to look over at Izuku—or Deku, as everyone now called him. It was a slur, Deku, because everyone thought he would be a useless omega, broken because he didn’t carry a scent or react to alphas in any way. Katsuki let them think that; hell, he even shouted the name the loudest! Let them ignore and underestimate Izu.

In the end, all those extras would be fools, because Katsuki knew the truth: Deku smelled the best. He smelled of soft, clean linens and home and everything that made Katsuki happy and safe and calm, because Izuku was Katsuki’s home. Izuku ignored those other alphas because they weren’t worth his time, but he listened to Katsuki—his Kacchan. That’s why Katsuki knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Deku was his omega.

The bell rang, interrupting the teacher midsentence, but Katsuki didn’t hang around to hear what the idiot adult had to say. His skin itched and burned too much. Quickly jamming his stuff into his bag, he waltzed over to Deku’s desk and kicked it. The omega squeaked and everyone laughed, but when their eyes met, Katsuki knew Izuku understood and left with what everyone else interpreted as a warning growl.

Izuku frowned as she-he-they watched the alpha storm out of the classroom. They couldn’t figure out what they were feeling today. No one but Kacchan ever really picked up on it, not even their mom though she tried, but Izuku’s mental pronouns were extremely fluid, even for an omega. Usually, it would fluctuate a couple times a day, as moods or thoughts shifted, but today it was hard to focus. Everything seemed foggy, unclear, and incomprehensible—everything but the need to be near Kacchan.

So, with a heavy sigh, he gathered his things and headed out. He didn’t need to follow the alpha’s scent to know where Kacchan was, not that he could smell it anyway, he just knew. Izuku always knew where Kacchan was. It was like he had an internal compass and instead of it telling him which way was north, it told him which way was Kacchan. When they were little, it was awesome. He always knew where his best friend was.

Now it just hurt.

It was that premonition pain before the bullying began, before Bakugou bared his fangs with venomous taunts or tested his quirk out on Izuku’s vulnerable flesh. Before school, when it had just been the two of them, everything had been beautiful and lovely and perfect. They had so many dreams and plans and hopes. Then they went to school and Kacchan met other alphas and pretentious betas with opinions. At first, none of it mattered, Kacchan defended him, protected the bond they had.

Then quirks began to develop. Kacchan got an amazing one. Izuku didn’t. She thought it would be okay, they would still be okay, that Kacchan would defend their bond with his explosive quirk. At first, he did. Then he didn’t. The first time Kacchan turned his quirk on her it hurt more than the physical pain of the burn on her wrist. It was the look in his eyes, dark and molten and so very angry—angry at her. She hadn’t understood it, and yet he had still come over that night and snuggled with her as if nothing had changed. They were still friends when no one else was around.

At least they were until their classmates became cognizant of genders. When talk of alphas, betas, and omegas turned into a social status at age seven, Izuku didn’t think they could fall any lower. Somehow, everyone had found out that they were omega, but not just any omega, one who couldn’t actually produce or smell scents. They had working scent glands, it was just that their scent was, well, scentless. It was then that Izuku Midoriya, quirkless, scentless omega became Deku—a title given by none other than Katsuki Bakugou himself, whose status as an alpha was a surprise to no one.

Slipping out of the side entrance, Izuku made her way out of the school and into the alleyway. The alpha was leaning against the brick wall flexing his hand so that his quirk would go off, tiny explosions lighting up his features. Despite how painful their relationship had become, Kacchan was still beautiful to her, and he had grown so much over the last year. Izuku was short even compared to the beta girls, but Kacchan towered even over the beta boys and alphas a year or two ahead of them.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Kacchan’s voice, warm and hinted with the gravelly cusps of puberty, washed over her senses, clearing the fog from her mind a little.

She looked at him more closely. There was sweat lightly darkening his hair, despite the slight chill of early spring, and his body continuously shifted and flexed—it was subtle, but Kacchan was never good at hiding his uncomfortability, at least not from her. Izuku, on the other hand, wanted to tear off her skin, even her softest clothes felt painful, itchy, and rough, and yet no one was any the wiser—save, perhaps, for Kacchan.

“Are you saying we’ll present at the same time?” they asked, tilting their head thoughtfully to the side. Oddly, it would make sense. Despite their broken relationship, there were only two firsts that they did not share thus far—quirk presentation and, though they had not yet gotten their first menstruation, since it wouldn’t happen until after heat presentation, Kacchan obviously wouldn’t share that one since alphas don’t menstruate.

“Together.”

Izuku blinked. His brows rose and crinkled together. “Um, Kacchan…”

“You’re my omega, Deku.”

She pursed her lips at that and growled lowly. “Kacchan-”

“Deku-”

“Don’t-”

“I’m sorry.”

Izuku whimpered and looked into those deep, crimson eyes—so full of determination and pain. His heart thumping heavily in his chest. “What?”

Kacchan clicked his teeth and looked down, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bad alpha to my omega. I just… they all- and you-” He growled under his breath. “I’m an idiot, alright?”

“Will Kacchan be better?” she asked quietly, a tight, needy hope burning in her chest. When he went to respond reflexively, she added, “The truth, Alpha.”

“So, you admit that I’m your alpha?” he said with a smirk, but it didn’t meet his eyes, which were still so sad and full of worry.

“Always,” Izuku whispered. “Kacchan has always been my alpha, nothing will change that, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be Kacchan’s omega. I want the truth.”

Kacchan sighed and slumped against the wall. “It… it started in kindergarten,” he admitted quietly. “The noise. I tried ignoring it, tried talking to dad—and even mom—about it ‘cause they’re alpha too, but it just grows… It makes me mad. Makes it hard to think, to breathe.”

Izuku frowned at that and finally approached, taking their friend’s sweaty hands between theirs. The temperature difference actually made them feel cold. They were worried about Kacchan. Kacchan was strong and proud, but they knew he was also emotionally impulsive and struggled with control, even as toddlers that had been the case. Kacchan’s parents were rough alphas and perfectionists, especially his mom. This noise must’ve been very difficult to deal with all alone, especially with parents like that.

“Have you talked to a doctor?” Izuku asked gently, trying not to offend.

Kacchan gave a curt nod, his frown deepening. “They can’t be certain until after I’ve finished puberty, but they think… they think I’ll be a Prime.”

Izuku gasped, his eyes widened. Kacchan? A Prime?!

“The doctor suggested my parents arrange a mate for me shortly after my rut presentation.”

What? Izuku’s hands went slack. An arranged mate?

“Our kitchen table is covered in omega profiles and they keep making me smell all these stupid scent samples.”

Other omegas? Kacchan’s mate… a different omega? But… Kacchan is… Kacchan is…

“I keep trying to tell them, but they won’t listen to me-”

“NO!” Izuku roared, grabbing the alpha by the golden mane and yanking him down so they were eye level, emerald glaring fiercely into crimson red. The omega bared his premature fangs and snarled, “Kacchan is mine!”

Katsuki’s nostrils flared and his pupils dilated as that soft scent bloomed around them. He could feel his fangs throb and slicken with mating venom, and his pre-pubescent alphan knot flexed between his legs. Soon. It would happen soon. An hour tops. He had to get his omega to their nest.

“Your scent is the only one that quiets the noise,” he admitted.

His omega, who looked near feral a second ago, flushed a pretty rose and gapped wordlessly in confusion.

“I’ve always been able to smell you,” he continued. “My parents said it was just your mom’s fabric softener, that it’s all in my head, but it’s not. Izuku, you have a scent, and you smell like mine,” he ended with a possessive growl.

“Kacchan…” Izuku whined pitifully. He could see the hope in his omega’s eyes, practically feel Izuku’s mind warring with their emotions, and he could taste the fluidity of her gender on his tongue as it sporadically shifted from one to another. It was a subtle fluctuation in Izuku’s scent, every time his mental gender changed their scent would tweak just ever so slightly.

Today was a bad day, likely in part due to the oncoming presentation. The brevity of their fluid gender was always an indication of Izuku’s mental and emotional state. Despite the omega’s outward sunny disposition, Katsuki knew Izuku was prone to both melancholy and incontrollable, hyper-analytical thought. When they were little, he had learned to notice the signs quickly in order to keep his first and only friend happy.

Gathering Izuku in his arms, Katsuki pressed his omega gently against his chest and released a deep, rumbling purr. If you were to ask his parents, Katsuki didn’t know how to purr, didn’t have the ability. That wasn’t true, he had just never purred for them, not even as a baby. Katsuki purred for Izuku, he purred for his omega who could not smell him, but could feel the soothing vibrations in his chest.

“Kacchan is Izuku’s alpha,” he declared softly, but firmly as Izuku relaxed against him, “and Deku is Katsuki’s omega.”

Izuku gasped and looked up at Kacchan, tears lining her emerald eyes. “But what about the arranged mate?”

“They can’t force me if I’ve already mated,” he said. “Do you remember our secret base in the woods? I’ve made a nest. We’ll present soon. Come with me.”

Izuku bit her bottom lip, her hands resting along Kacchan’s chest so she could still feel that comforting purr. “We’ll be mates?”

“We’ll already mates, Deku.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?!” she cried. “I want my alpha, but how can you want me if I’m useless?”

Kacchan clicked his teeth. “You’re not useless. You’re mine.” He growled but it turned into a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. The noise. I got angry. These… asshole alphas were saying you were cute and all this other shit. I called you that so they’d fuck off and stop looking at you.”

“And… and the burns?” she asked hesitantly. “Was that the noise too?”

“Kinda,” he grumbled and hung his head. “I needed… I just needed…”

“Kacchan?” Izuku prompted and nudged the alpha’s chin with his nose. “I need to know. I want to say yes to you, I want to so badly, but the names and the burns…” More tears filled his eyes. “They hurt so much, Kacchan. Why? Why did you hurt me?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE MINE!” Kacchan roared. Small explosions burst against Izuku’s back as he was pinned more tightly to the alpha’s chest.

“KACCHAN!” he cried out, clinging desperately to the alpha who was hurting him for salvation. “Please! It hurts!”

Katsuki smelled the burnt singe and sour tinge to his omega’s scent and it was like an arrow of clarity through the red noise that had sprung up at the thought of his prints burned into his omega’s skin.

“Shit! Shit! Fuck! Izu! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-! I’m sorry!” he cried as his omega collapsed to their knees, crying and whimpering. “Fuck, I’m such a bad alpha. I’m so fucking sorry!”

A rush of Izuku’s purer scent filled the air as the omega’s thin, tiny hand reached up to cup Katsuki’s cheek.

“Nnat bad,” Izuku murmured, his eyes drenched in tears. “Kacchan got mad. Why?”

Katsuki buried his face in the crook of Deku’s neck, taking in deep lungfuls of that scent. It soothed him, calmed him, it quieted the noise until he could barely hear it at all. When he could finally find the words, he spoke into Izuku’s skin, “Mark. Needed to mark you. Claim you. The noise, it gets so loud. The urge. It’s… It’s never gentle. I’m sorry, Izu. I wish I could be gentle.”

Izuku frowned and ran his fingers through Kacchan’s hair; it was so soft, and it was getting long. His Kacchan wasn’t the gentle type. The alpha tried to be, even when they were little, but his body was always to big and strong and awkward. Even something as simple as taking Izuku’s hand had been firm. In fact, Izuku had once wondered if Kacchan even knew what softness or gentleness was before they met. Kacchan’s parents had their faults, and they were nice enough people, but those words were not ones Izuku would ever use to describe them.

Yet, at the same time, Izuku wasn’t asking for softness. He wasn’t asking for gentle.

“No more quirks,” Izuku said, lifting the alpha’s head so they could see each other. “We’ll find another way, but no more quirks, Kacchan. It’s too much, and I don’t have one to push back with, okay? We gotta be equal.”

Kacchan nipped his palm so lightly it was practically a kiss. “Okay,” his said. “Promise.”

“Okay.” Izuku smiled and repeated, “okay.”

Kacchan’s brows quirked up. “Okay?”

“Mhm,” they nodded. “Let’s go.”

Kacchan smiled, it was small and soft and turned his eyes the molten colour Izuku adored. “Okay.”