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The aroma of katsudon filled the common room, a familiar comfort that did little to soothe the uneasy twist in my gut. It had been three weeks since Deku started this… this ritual. Every other day, without fail, he’d slide a bowl of something he’d cooked just for me across the table with that unnervingly serene smile.

“You’ve been training hard, Kacchan,” he’d say, his voice soft, his green eyes holding a light that was both adoring and predatory. “You need to keep your strength up.”

And I, like a fool, ate it. Every time. Because it was Deku. And because whatever he put in that food…

It started subtly. A strange, phantom sweetness on my tongue that lingered long after I’d finished eating, a flavor I couldn't place but found myself craving at odd hours. Then came the dreams—vivid, disorienting things where scents were sharper and my own body felt alien. I’d wake up tangled in my sheets, skin buzzing, the ghost of that sweetness clinging to the back of my throat.

Tonight was no different. He’d made curry, rich and spicy, but underneath the heat was that note again. Metallic, yet floral. Like rain on hot pavement and something… alive.

“Is it good, Kacchan?” Deku asked, chin resting on his hands as he watched me from the other side of the table. His gaze was intense, unwavering. Most people found Deku’s stare unnerving, but I… I loved it. I loved the possessiveness in it, the sheer, unadulterated focus. It made my alpha instincts bristle on the surface, a low growl building in my chest, but deep down, something else hummed in satisfaction. No one else existed in those moments. It was just me and him.

“It’s fine,” I grunted, shoveling another spoonful into my mouth, my own eagerness embarrassing me. My body was betraying me, yearning for the food with an addict's desperation. “Don’t you have your own bowl?”

“I ate earlier,” he murmured, his smile widening just a fraction. “I prefer watching you.”

A shiver, hot and cold at once, raced down my spine. Fuck. Why did that make my heart pound? An alpha shouldn’t… shouldn’t relish being watched like a prize. But I did. I always had. Ever since we were kids, Deku’s obsessive attention had been the one constant, the one thing that felt unequivocally mine.

Later, back in my room, the confusion hit …