Bakugo's point of view:

The night air was thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and gunpowder. Normal for a night like this, after someone tried—and failed—to take down one of my men.

I stood at the edge of the alley, my hands shoved into my pockets, teeth grinding. It wasn't the mess that pissed me off, though that was plenty annoying. No, it was something else. Something... off.

A scent.

It was faint, barely there, but it hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. Sweet, soft, with a sharp edge that made my instincts roar to life. My tiger stirred, claws itching to come out.

I froze, narrowing my eyes. Pheromones. Omega pheromones.

My omega.

The realization slammed into me with all the subtlety of a freight train. My fists clenched so hard I heard my knuckles crack. What the actual hell was going on? My soulmate was supposed to be an alpha—Shoto and I had always known that. But this scent was screaming at me in a language my instincts understood all too well.

Mine.

I crouched down, sniffing the air like some feral beast, ignoring how ridiculous I must've looked. The scent was faint, diluted by the filth of the alley, but it was unmistakable.

I shot a glare at the idiot cowering against the wall—one of my men, the one who'd been targeted tonight. "You see who it was?"

He shook his head, trembling. "N-no, boss. They were too fast."

Of course, they were. The scent told me everything I needed to know. Whoever it was, they'd gotten too close, left just enough of a trace to make me notice, and then slipped away like smoke.

I growled, straightening up. "Get your ass back to the safehouse. You're useless out here."

The guy scrambled to his feet and bolted, leaving me alone in the alley with that maddening, lingering scent. I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to think.

An omega assassin? It didn't make sense. Omegas didn't get involved in this kind of shit—too fragile, too easily targeted. And yet, here I was, standing in the middle of a battlefield they'd left behind.

And they were mine.

The possessive growl that escaped my throat surprised even me. It was primal, instinctual, and completely unhelpful. I didn't have time for this.

"Who the hell are you?" I muttered, turning on my heel and heading back to my car. Whoever they were, they weren't getting away with this.

At Home

By the time I got back to the house, Shoto was already there, sitting on the couch like some damn prince. His mismatched eyes flicked up as I slammed the door shut behind me.

"Rough night?" he asked, completely unfazed by my foul mood.

"Shut it," I snapped, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it onto the back of a chair. "We've got a problem."

Shoto raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, waiting for me to elaborate.

I paced the room, trying to shake off the frustration coiling in my chest. "One of those lunatics targeting our guys left something behind tonight. A scent."

His brows furrowed. "A scent?"

"Yeah," I growled, running a hand through my hair. "Omega. Barely there, but enough to make me lose my shit for a second."

Shoto's expression didn't change, but I knew him well enough to see the flicker of interest in his eyes. "An omega? And you're sure it wasn't just someone passing by?"

"Don't be stupid. I know what I smelled. It's them. Whoever the hell's been going after our guys."

Shoto leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're saying the assassin is an omega?"

"I'm saying my omega," I corrected, glaring at him. "And yours."

That got his attention. His calm façade cracked for a split second, surprise flashing across his face before he masked it again.

"You're sure?" he asked, his tone more serious now.

I snorted. "I don't need to be sure. My instincts already are."

Shoto nodded slowly, his gaze turning thoughtful. "Then we need to find them."

"No shit," I snapped, dropping onto the couch beside him. "Problem is, I don't have a face. Just a scent, and it's already driving me crazy."

He tilted his head, studying me. "You've dealt with worse."

"Not like this," I muttered, running a hand down my face. "And until we figure out who they are, I'm calling every damn assassin and lunatic going after us Deku."

"Deku?"

"Yeah," I said, smirking despite myself. "Short for 'defenseless nerd.' 'Cause they're gonna wish they were defenseless by the time I'm done with them."

Shoto gave me a look, unimpressed. "You're impossible."

"Damn right I am."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over us like a heavy blanket.

"We'll find them," Shoto said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

I glanced at him, meeting his gaze. For once, I didn't have a snarky comeback.

"Yeah," I muttered. "We will."

But until then, the mystery of this omega—my omega—was going to haunt me.