The common room felt too small when you entered, carrying that soft scent that made Shoto's chest tighten in ways he couldn't name. He pressed his left side against the couch's cool leather, willing the cold to override whatever this was. This... pull that seemed to live in his bones now.

Recovery days were supposed to be peaceful. The war was over, U.A.'s dorms rebuilt, everyone slowly healing. So why did he feel like he was coming apart at the seams every time you walked past?

Your laugh at something Midoriya said sent heat spiraling through his throat, and he clenched his jaw, frost creeping across his fingertips. The scent markers were subtle—most wouldn't even notice—but his alpha senses caught every shift, every sweet note that marked you as omega.

Like his father trapped his mother.

The thought came unbidden, sharp as shattered glass. Enji's grip, Rei's hollow eyes, the cage built from "protection" and alpha instincts run wild. Shoto had sworn he'd never become that—never let his secondary gender turn him into the man who'd destroyed his family.

But every instinct screamed to follow when you moved across the room, to pull you close, to keep you safe in ways that would suffocate you both. His quirk sparked in response—left side blazing, right side crackling with dangerous frost.

Control yourself.

He forced his eyes back to his textbook, but the words blurred as his heart hammered against his ribs. Your presence lingered like a phantom touch, vanilla sweetness wrapping around him like silk he couldn't escape.

Steam rose from his right side where ice and fire fought for dominance—just like the war inside him.

He wanted to protect you from everything, including himself.