My Omega

Chapter 12

Remastered: January 20th, 2025

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The morning after their tense encounter in the courtyard, Katsuki walked into Class 1-A with a storm brewing in his chest. It had been a few days since the confrontation with Izuku and Lorenzo, but the weight of it still sat on him like a damn boulder. Izuku, the Alpha with the flames that could rival his own, hadn't spoken more than a few words to him since. It wasn't the silence that hurt, though. It was the coldness behind it—the way Izuku barely acknowledged him anymore.

And Katsuki hated it.

The familiar hum of the classroom was distant to him as he slouched in his seat at the back, his arms crossed tightly, every muscle in his body coiled. His eyes flicked over to Izuku, who was sitting near the front, his posture rigid. Izuku's usual warmth had been replaced by an icy reserve. It was almost as if he had put up a wall, one Katsuki couldn't break through. Izuku's green eyes barely even glanced his way anymore, and when they did, there was nothing in them but something dark, something unreadable.

The entire class felt suffocating. The idle chatter between his classmates was a blur, but nothing could drown out the gnawing feeling in his gut—the nagging, insistent thought that something was slipping through his fingers.

Kirishima leaned over from the desk beside him, nudging him gently. "Hey, Bakugo. You alright, man? You've been a little... off lately."

Katsuki didn't meet his gaze, his eyes still locked on Izuku. "I'm fine," he growled, trying to make it sound convincing.

Kirishima, ever the optimist, wasn't fooled. He gave him a concerned look but didn't push further, instead turning back to listen to Aizawa's instructions for the day. Katsuki couldn't focus. His gaze drifted back to Izuku once more, who was staring out the window, his expression unreadable. The coldness, the distance—it felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, suffocating him.

Later that afternoon, they were paired for a group simulation, and Katsuki was already dreading it. Training wasn't the issue. He loved training. But having to work with Izuku, the one person who had pushed him so far—who had broken down the walls he'd built around himself—felt like a damn disaster waiting to happen.

The moment Aizawa called out their names, something twisted in Katsuki's chest. "Bakugo, Midoriya. You two are up next. Work together on the simulation."

Izuku didn't even look at him, just stood up and walked toward the door, his shoulders tense. Katsuki followed, trying to swallow the anger that had started to rise. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much that Izuku had been avoiding him, that he had been distant since the fight in the courtyard. But damn it, it was like a damn splinter in his side—nagging, irritating, and impossible to ignore.

When they reached the arena, Katsuki's temper was already bubbling. The training grounds were full of obstacles, traps, and environmental hazards—perfect for testing teamwork. But there was no teamwork to be had here. He didn't need Izuku's help. He could blast through the entire course on his own.

But when he glanced over at Izuku, his anger shifted, the coldness in the air wrapping around his chest like a vice. Izuku had barely acknowledged him, standing at the starting point, his posture stiff and unyielding.

"Move your ass, Midoriya," Katsuki spat, his voice sharp and laced with frustration. "I'm not waiting around for you."

Izuku's eyes flicked over to him, the fire in them cold and calculated, a sharp contrast to the warm look Katsuki used to get. His lips twisted into a faint, controlled smile. It was the kind of smile that had nothing warm about it.