Omega Reborn

Chapter 1

"Motherfucking omegas," Bakugo Katsuki growled loudly at the newspaper in his hand. The omega cashier at the convenience store that he was in flinched, but Bakugo didn't notice.

Kirishima Eijirou looked over his shoulder at the newspaper, curiously. Bakugo tried to ignore the warmth at his back. "Hey, it's Midoriya!" Kirishima cried out happily. "Good for him! I still can't believe he's the number one hero in the world. He's amazing, right?"

Bakugo's scowl deepened. Yeah, Midoriya was pretty amazing. Especially considering he somehow maintained his lofty position even though he was an omega. Not that Bakugo would ever admit that. To anyone. EVER. He'd rather die first.

Meanwhile, Bakugo was stuck perpetually trailing after him even though he worked his ass off on a daily basis. Hours and days and years of chasing and fighting villains. Countless trips to the hospital and all for what? To be stuck being the #2 hero behind an omega. It was disgusting. It was a struggle not to choke on the shame of it. Everyone knew that alphas were the top of the metaphorical food chain. It was no coincidence that the large majority of heroes were alphas. They were the leaders, the protectors, the fighters. Omegas were the homemakers, the nurturers, caregivers and mothers. Weaker and submissive.

Sometimes he felt like he was the only alpha in the world who hated omegas. He never felt very comfortable around them and hated the idea that he could lose control of himself because of them. Avoiding contact with them whenever possible was the best way to ensure control over himself. Nobody could tell him what to do, and that included what he could feel.

Then he found out that his biggest childhood rival was an omega and that made it so much worse. Far too much of his life had been spent putting up with Midoriya trailing after him annoyingly. When he found out that All Might gave his quirk to a weak omega it was just icing on the fucking cake. He kept it a secret, of course. He feared the ramifications of something like that coming out to the general public and he didn't want to watch the world burn. It pissed him off but he wasn't a villain, after all. But, despite his caution, Midoriya decided to not hide the fact that he was an omega. His popularity as a hero skyrocketed as he defeated villain after villain, and instead of people hating the omega, he became revered more than any hero. He was The Revolutionary Omega Hero, as the media frequently called him. He was turning the world's stereotypes of omegas on their heads.

Bakugo crammed the paper back on the shelf and stomped over to the beverages. Kirishima smoothed out the wrinkled pages of the newspaper and followed him. "Hey, wait!" He sighed. "You always get so moody when it comes to Midoriya. You should support him more. What he's doing it pretty incredible, after all."

It was especially annoying when Kirishima gushed about Midoriya. Kirishima had always hero worshiped Bakugo and it grated on him to hear the pride in his voice when he talked about that damned nerd. He grabbed a 12 pack of beer out of the cooler. "Come on, shitty hair. We're getting fucked up tonight." He ignored Kirishima's groan.

Bakugo paid for the beer, saying as little as possible to the nervous omega cashier. He could smell the anxiety practically rolling off the quaking boy. It made his stomach turn.

He left, walking down the couple of blocks to his house. It was a newly built home in a quiet upper-middle class neighborhood. The house was fairly modest on the outside, fitting in seamlessly with the neighboring houses. The interior was spartanly decorated in a way that looked accidentally modern but was due mostly to indifference. Bakugo wasn't home all that much so the house was more of a place to sleep for him than a sanctuary. The only homey touches were exclusively due to Kirishima's influence. There were a few framed art pieces that had been birthday presents and random things that were forgotten and never reclaimed. Bakugo occasionally tried to make Kirishima take his stuff back but he didn't fight about it too hard because some part of himself liked the reminders of his best friend. He glanced at the muscle magazine on his coffee table and Kirishima's beat up travel mug in the sink as he opened up the pack of beer, grabbed two and put the rest in the fridge.