Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The ride was uneventful. Katsuki left his home in the mountains just before noon to make it to Tokyo without rushing. While his phone was going off left and right with his friends wishing him luck, he chose to look out the window and watch the landscape change. He was antsy the entire time, with his knee bouncing or constantly shifting. When he finally looked at the phone halfway through the journey, an article notification lit up the screen.
“Katsuki Bakugo Unveils New Omega Line, Met with Raving Reviews!”
Of course, critics praised his new line. He was Katsuki fucking Bakugo, and he didn’t do anything half-assed. Except maybe his love life, and only because he didn’t put any real time or effort into it. The only reason he was going to an Alpha Auction was that his mom had been hounding him for months. That and because it was only so he could finally inherit the family business. The board of directors was adamant: Katsuki needed a mate before they would hand him control.
He wasn’t too keen on finding a mate. The options, though, were either to pick his own or to have one picked for him. Just the idea of being mated to someone he could barely stand made his stomach turn. When his mom first suggested an Alpha Auction, he was completely against it. The idea of buying a person felt weird, no matter how polished or socially acceptable everyone tried to make it sound. But on the other hand, being stuck with a submissive beta or another omega made him frustrated.
Katsuki returned his attention to the changing landscape as he thought about what he was even looking for. While alphas were not necessarily unintelligent. Their instincts just prioritized different things: protecting their mates and pups, assessing threats, and responding before danger could get close. They were built for it, too. Most were large and bulky, usually over six feet tall, with enough strength to easily overpower almost anyone around them. Because of that, every alpha’s DNA is stored in a national identification system in case an alpha commits a crime. Their vocal cords were underdeveloped, leaving most of them able to make only certain sounds, such as growls or rough vocalizations. Some learned to write or use sign language, which made communication easier. The ones who were taught could communicate well enough to make their needs and preferences clear, and that mattered more than most omegas liked to admit.
And even if Katsuki found an Alpha he didn’t mind, it was no guarantee he would be able to take him home. While omegas like to think they are the ones choosing the reality, it is the alpha who has the choice. If the alpha does not consider it a suitable match, they will reject the omega. Once the alpha approves the pairing, a caseworker will conduct a home inspection. Alphas were still living beings in the end, no matter how often society dressed the auctions up as tradition or convenience. Social services existed to ensure they were placed in proper homes that could meet the alpha’s physical and psychological needs. He knew he would pass the inspection with no problem; it's just a matter of finding the right alpha.
“Sir, would you like to stop for dinner somewhere?” The driver spoke, pulling Katsuki from his thoughts. “We have almost reached the city, and there is still time before the event.”
Katsuki glazed away from the window. “Yeah, that’s fine. Find somewhere decent.”
“Understood.”
— — —
When Katsuki arrived at the venue, the staff directed the driver to an underground garage to avoid the paparazzi. A guard scanned his ID before allowing him into the elevator. Another checked it again before letting him through the blacked-out double doors.
Walking through the double doors felt like stepping into another world. Omegas filled the lobby, mingling under soft lighting while the walls swallowed their loud voices. The air hung thick with a sickly sweetness that omegas were known for layered with way too many clashing, expensive perfumes. At a glance, Katsuki knew they all came from money, either high-profile government families or celebrities. It was the kind of wealth that showed in posture alone. He was sure he recognized the grandson of a cabinet member, someone he had once designed a gala suit for.
At the far end of the room, another set of massive double doors marked where the alphas gathered. Katsuki watched a few omegas pass through and assumed guests could come and go as they pleased. He snagged a glass of champagne from a passing butler and decided to mingle for a while.
— — —
After half an hour of forcing polite smiles and swallowing his irritation, Katsuki reached his limit. He hadn’t come to play nice; that was why he had an assistant. He abandoned his empty champagne flute on a passing tray and walked straight for the doors, stepping through the moment staff pulled them open.
The room sprawled out before him, vast and exposed. Large partitions carved the space into sections, each one housing an alpha. Nothing shielded them from view as omegas drifted past, their eyes free to linger. Only the bathroom areas offered privacy, completely sealed off from the outside world. Each section held a bed, a couch, and carefully chosen personal items. Hobbies, Katsuki realized. Little arrangements meant to keep the alphas occupied, compliant, and waiting. Staff moved between the sections in an efficient, disturbingly casual way, as if this were any other high–end event.
Female and male alphas alike continued going about their lines in various stages of undress while omegas looked on. Each living section had three small plaques mounted near the front, with flippable pages containing information about the alpha inside. A beta attendant stood nearby, ready to answer questions or retrieve whatever an omega requested. There had to be at least fifty alphas on display, and nearly every section had a small cluster of giggling omegas gathered around it.
He walked around slowly, considering each alpha, but always found something he hated about each one. One’s posture looked off. One wasn’t muscular enough. One had weird-looking muscular veins. There was always something that was a turn-off. Some little detail that made him lose interest before he could even pretend. Soon, he made it through the entire room without so much as a second glance at any of the alphas. As he turned to leave, an attendant dressed differently from the others stepped into his path.
“Sir,” the attendant said, dipping his head, “if none of these alphas please you, we do have others on another floor. However, I should warn you, they are rented, not bought.”
Katsuki considered it. Maybe renting an Alpha for a short amount of time instead of buying one would trick the board into leaving him alone. He nodded, and the attendant beckoned him forward, guiding him through a curtain-hidden hallway and into an elevator. It carried them up one more floor before coming to a smooth stop. As the door opened, the attendant waved him through, leaving him alone with another set of intricate gold-inlaid doors.
The first thing he noticed was the space. The sections were larger than the ones downstairs and placed farther apart, giving each alpha more room. The second thing he noticed was the alphas themselves. They were bigger, heavy with a kind of presence that made the air feel tighter around them. Something more dangerous. Primes. Katsuki never even crossed paths with a prime before. They were too rare, which made them too valuable to appear anywhere without reason. There were only fifteen or twenty of them in the room, probably the only ones in Japan, while numerous omegas moved between sections with bright eyes and greedy interest.
Soft murmuring and light laughter filled the room as the other omegas moved from section to section. Some of the alphas showed off, flirting through the glass, while others let their attention wander. Katsuki grabbed another glass of champagne and walked to the first section.
This alpha was flirting the hardest, which was an instant turn-off. Plus, the man’s chest was weirdly structured, broad in one place and awkwardly narrow in another. Just for humor's sake, he looked at his pages, and that's when what the attendant said clicked. On this floor, he wasn’t renting an alpha for companionship or a temporary contract. He was paying for breeding rights. That’s when he tuned into the mummering.
“He looks like he would fuck hard and rough.”
“I wonder if he even knows how to use his dick; he’s working awfully hard to show off, wonder if he’s overcompensating.”
“He looks like a good stud.”
“My family only wants me to breed with a sound stud.”
Katsuki walked away. Hearing the others talk about other humans like that made his blood boil. Using someone for just sex and legacy felt wrong, no matter how normal everyone around him seemed to think it was. Still, he looked at a few that caught his eye, and all had stud fees. He was about to turn back and leave altogether when another mummering conversation caught his attention.
“Who would want a broken alpha?”
“Just because he has a good body doesn’t mean that he’s worth it.”
“Probably has violent tendencies. I’m not looking to die in my sleep.”
Katsuki turned toward the gathered omegas. A section sat apart from the others, the side rooms lying empty and silent. An attendant stood by, arms loose behind his back, looking disinterested, probably used to the comments by now. Katsuki picked up an empty plaque and started reading.
Eijiro Kirishima
Age: 28
Height: 7’1
Status: Buyout only. No exceptions.
There was more about his personality and hobbies, but one section stood out: his history.
History: Discussion will follow the decision.
The history section should have been about family lineage, childhood background, and even placement records. This one gave nothing. He wasn’t going to lie; it did intrigue him. Nowhere in the booklet did it say this Kirishima was violent. Still, when Katsuki looked up, he expected to find the alpha pacing, glaring, or throwing his weight around. Instead, all he saw was a huge lump beneath a blanket on the bed in the corner. Katsuki’s brow twitched. Just as he was about to leave, the attendant knocked on the glass.
“Come on, Red,” he called. “Stop pouting.”
Katsuki watched as the lump moved beneath the dark sheets before something bright red emerged from beneath them. A moment later, an arm reached out to brace against the wall as the alpha pulled himself up. Slowly, the blanket fell, revealing a broad back rippling with muscle. The alpha sat on his calves for a bit before stepping off the bed and finally standing to his full height. If that wasn’t the biggest motherfucker that Katsuki ever saw, and Katsuki wasn't exactly a small omega.
His sweatpants hung low on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination. As he walked to the front, there was a certain easy confidence in his stride. Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way the alpha’s abdominal muscles flexed with every step or how his biceps had to be the size of his head when he reached up to tie his hair back. Only then did Katsuki notice how scarred his body was. Scars crossed him everywhere, old and pale in some places, harsher in others. The largest ran down one hip and disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.
When Katsuki came to, he had to look up as the alpha stood right in front of him. There were murmurs from the omegas nearby, but his focus was solely on the giant in front of him. Something in those wild yet calculating blood-red eyes kept him hooked. Then, a second later, Katsuki found himself staring directly into a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. The omegas near him yelped, but Katsuki’s gaze never wavered. He studied the alpha’s face, taking in the jagged scar that cut across his nose, deep and old, as if it had been worn raw again and again. Something about it drew him in. Dark curiosity sparked in his chest, sharp and immediate, as he wondered how the alpha had gotten those scars. A loup rap stuck the glass.
“Red,” the attendant scolded. “Would you stop trying to scare them off!”
Kirishima backed off from the glass but kept his eyes locked on Katsuki. The other omegas had scattered at the sign of aggression, leaving Katsuki standing there alone. Kirishima was really the only alpha that caught his eye today. There was something in the show of aggression that didn’t feel real, more just curious about reactions. Katsuki glanced at the attendant, and the man immediately stepped closer with a cloth in a small sealed bag.
“Rub some of your scent onto the cloth,” the attendant instructed, “then place it inside the bag.”
Katsuki took the cloth without looking away from the glass. He felt those blood-red eyes burning into him the entire time, even as he rubbed the cloth against the scent gland at his wrist and sealed it inside the bag. When he finally walked away, he was finished, but painfully aware that Kirishima’s stare still had not let him go.
Checking at his watch, Katsuki saw that there were thirty minutes before the event ended. The minutes seemed to drag on. Soon, certain omegas were being escorted out of the room. Just as his patience had run out and he was starting to head to the door, someone stopped him.
“Mr. Bakugo, the director wishes to speak with you.”
Katsuki huffed but followed the man anyway, taking another elevator down to a quieter floor. This one opened to a standard set of doors instead of the ornate, gold-inlaid ones upstairs. Inside, an older omega waited for him. His hair had started to gray at the temples, and faint smile lines creased the corners of his eyes.
“Might I offer you a drink, Mr. Bakugo? Whiskey? Wine?” The director said as Katsuki strode in.
“Water will be fine, thank you.”
The director placed a glass of water before him. “There is much we need to discuss regarding Kirishima.”
"I’m sure we do," Katsuki said, picking up the water glass.
"Kirishima has more of a story than you might think.” The director said, sitting across from him. “I’m sure you saw that his history was blank and there was a buyout fee instead of a stud fee.” Katsuki nodded while waiting for the director to continue. “I have been given permission from Kirishima to share his story because this is not a decision to make recklessly. And considering you are the only one Kirishima has chosen in the few weeks he has been here, I have my hopes.”
That caught Katsuki’s attention. The director was treating the alpha like a person. Like someone with a say in what happened to him. That was a good thing in Katsuki’s book.
The director shifted in his seat, his expression growing heavier, “As you know, Kirishima is a Prime, and that in itself comes with some obstacles. While being born as a Prime seems random, his case was not. He was bred specifically for the underground fighting rings.”