Chapter Text
The air was electric in the night as Half of Us prepared for their latest show. The band stood backstage, the scent of sweat and anticipation thick with tension in the air. Katsuki couldn't shake off the nervous energy, though, for all his usual passion-fueled determination. His birthday was coming up, and it was no ordinary birthday this year—he was turning 21. yo had been making hints all month about a "surprise," but Katsuki had not been able to get him to commit to any details. His friends were all abuzz with excitement, however, and as hard as he tried to focus on the here and now, he could not shake the sense of something waiting on the horizon.
Yo, Katsuki! You okay?" Denki's voice shattered his daydream, and Katsuki blinked, meeting his friend's eyes. His Omega was practically trembling with anticipation, his usual laid-back grin twisted into a strained, nervous smile.
"I'm good. Just… tired of all this shit. Let's do it."
"Yeah, yeah, no problem. Just don't blow the lid off with your power tonight, got it?" Denki grinned, and Katsuki snorted, waving him away.
The band was in high spirits despite the tension that had settled in Katsuki’s chest. The performance ahead was important—another step toward their growing fame—but all Katsuki could focus on was the quiet presence of yo, his Alpha, waiting patiently off to the side. They'd kept their relationship under wraps for a while, both of them aware of the firestorm the public fascination with their coupledom would create, but not tonight. Tonight, the world could witness them as they were—in each other's arms.
It wasn't until they were basically on stage that Katsuki realized his nerves weren't entirely because of the usual stress of the show. His Omega half stirred uncomfortably in him, sensing that something world-shaking was going to happen, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
---
The lights dimmed as the crowd exploded, and the show began. Katsuki let out a sharp breath, shattering the unease to leave it all on the stage. The crowd's energy was palpable, and as always, *Half of Us* did not fail to deliver. The band played together as one with each song—synchronized, passionate, and relentless.
Yet despite the adrenaline and the spotlight's glare, Katsuki could not shake the feeling of being watched. He caught a few glances from yo in the wings, who was watching with that same level, calm attitude that Katsuki had come to love. That Alpha presence was unwavering as ever, rock-solid in his support.
The concert ended on a high note, the crowd's applause ear-deafening. As the members of the band made their way to the backstage, Katsuki felt the tension in him wind up once again. His Omega senses picked up on something, a strange mix of anticipation and repressed power, and the lights of the cameras flashed as they stepped out of the side door before he could process what it was.
A burst of light drew his eyes just as he was turning his head towards the car, but before he had time to do anything, yo's firm hand clamped down on his arm. He spun around, a look of confusion crossing his features.
"Katsuki," yo said, his voice low but authoritative, "I have waited a long time for this." His tone, which was always commanding, was now—almost—gentle.
Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat as yo dropped to one knee, the cameras flashing like wildfire around them. The sudden realization hit him like a wave: the man was proposing. Right there, in front of everyone, in the midst of the chaos of their band’s rising fame.
"Will you marry me?" yo's voice was steady, but Katsuki could feel the seriousness of his Alpha's words. There was no mistaking it—this was reality.
Katsuki's breath caught in his throat. It was not a huge surprise; yo had been subtly bringing the idea into their intimate moments these past few months. But here, in front of so many pairs of eyes, it felt like a dream. His friends were rushing out from the other car, shock and joy written across their faces, but no one seemed to care about the flashbulbs. Katsuki’s heart raced, his emotions tangled with the overwhelming scent of his Alpha’s calm resolve.
“I—” Katsuki hesitated, his Omega half suddenly awash with conflicting instincts. The bond between them pulsed with energy. His heart surged with affection for the man before him.
You don't have to say yes now," yo said, standing and holding out the ring, his voice soothing. "But I wanted you to know I'm serious. About us. Always.
Katsuki felt a tightness in his chest, a subtle pulse deep inside him that no one else would understand, the quiet hum of his Omega’s instinct that had always known yo was it. His body screamed that this was right.
Without realizing it, he found himself nodding, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll marry you, damn it.”
The cheers of the crowd filled the air, and amidst the paparazzi clicking away, Katsuki could not concentrate on anything but the presence of yo's hand wrapped around his, firm and unwavering.
---
### Later
The birthday party was at an upscale club, a place that reeked of success. Katsuki had been in this high society world for years, yet tonight was different. His 21st was the first one where his relationship with yo was out in the open, and the stress of the public eye bore down on his shoulders. His friends, however, were not celebrating as wildly as Katsuki had hoped they would. They'd never been anything other than supportive, but now, with yo's presence so visible in every aspect of his life, they could not hide their discomfort.
Denki, who’d been one of the most excited about Katsuki’s relationship with yo when it first started, now kept his distance, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more guarded. Hanta’s playful nature had soured into something more cynical when the subject of yo was brought up. And Izuku? Izuku could hardly look at Katsuki now, the hurt of seeing his friend change at yo's hands too much to bear. They had all said something a long time ago—about the grooming, about the little changes in Katsuki that they could no longer overlook. But Katsuki had vowed that yo loved him, that things were not as awful as they seemed.
Tonight, as he stood with a glass in hand, the party more of a show than a celebration, Katsuki could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable. His friends were there, but their smiles didn't quite make it to their eyes. They weren't pleased with what yo had created in him. They were worried about the Katsuki they had lost—the one who had been so full of fire, the one who had never let anyone master him.
But it was too late to back out now. Katsuki had already accepted the offer, and his Omega nature had already been ensnared in yo's dominance. The bond they shared appeared irreversible, no matter how much his friends fretted over it.
He took another drink, shrugging those thoughts aside, focusing on the immediate rush of the evening. They had a reputation to uphold, after all.
---
As the night wore on, the alcohol got the better of him, and Katsuki watched as the last remnants of his reservations melted away. The club was throbbing, and he reveled in the atmosphere of the party, but something about the way the tension between himself and his friends, the cracks in the facade of happiness, niggled at him. He did not want to think about it. Not tonight.
He was near the bar when he saw yo across the room, watching him with that knowing gaze. Katsuki was magnetically attracted to him, the Alpha's presence as undeniable as ever. He walked over, his stride somewhat swaying from the alcohol, and the instant yo met his eye, he was by his side.
"Katsuki," yo's voice was low but intense, his hand circling around his waist. "You're not listening to them, are you?"
Katsuki hesitated, the warmth of yo's touch giving him a strange sense of comfort. "I'm not hearing anyone but you tonight."
yo's smile was predatory, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Good. Let's make them aware of it."
Katsuki nodded, letting the heat of yo's words sink deep within him, drowning out the discomfort that simmered just beneath the surface. As they migrated to a less crowded corner, tension brewed between them, wild and hot. His Omega senses rioted, eager to claim and be claimed.
The night turned into a blur of stolen kisses and burning whispers, and by the time they were alone, it was more. The alcohol, the constant pressure, and what was between them reached its boiling point.
And in the silence of the room, Katsuki and yo sealed their bond. The world could have been ablaze around them, and it would not have mattered.
---
It had been years since Katsuki’s transformation began, and every day, it seemed like the changes only became more pronounced. His relationship with yo, once a quiet, hidden affair, was now fully out in the open, and his appearance had shifted to match the subtle but undeniable influence yo had over him. The band had witnessed it all—the quiet manipulations, the subtle grooming, and the constant pressure from yo that had turned the fiery
, loud Omega they once knew into something quieter, more pliable.
Nobody had yet found out just how far yo's influence had actually stretched, however. The old Katsuki wasn't gone—he was just buried beneath layers of passive conformity, his once untamed heart now suffocated beneath the weight of yo's expectations.
The band didn't know how much more they could ignore it.
Fine! Let us return to the studio scene to make it flow perfectly with the tension between Katsuki and the band, without disrupting the underlying tension of yo's control over him. Following is a revised studio scene:
---
The studio was dimly lit, the only sounds the soft hum of machinery and the hushed conversations of the band members as they set up for their forthcoming recording session. *Half of Us* had never been a subdued place, a studio where every note and rhythm had always appeared a fight for dominance. Yet tonight, there was an odd solemnity in the air, a heaviness that none of them could seem to dispel.
Katsuki had been quieter than usual, his fiery passion dampened by the tension that seemed to dog his every step. It was not the usual band tension; it was the transformation in him, the subtle but undeniable way in which his appearance and posture had shifted since he started dating yo more seriously. It was not that anyone could pinpoint a specific time, but over the past few months, the change had become more noticeable. His looks—once brash and bold—had softened. There was subtle makeup, flowing attire, even his posture was different. It was not just his appearance, either. There was a strange, detached aura about him that unsettled the band.
"I swear, if you keep gazing at that damn screen and not paying attention to the track," Kirishima's voice sliced through the quiet, his tone exasperated but concerned. "We've been at this for hours. Are you even hearing the music anymore?"
Katsuki snapped his head up, eyes sharp. “I’m listening, dumbass. Stop acting like I’m not doing my part. Just… let’s finish this session, alright?” His voice was a little sharper than usual, but there was an underlying exhaustion in his words.
Denki raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Izuku and Hanta, who exchanged similar looks. The band was used to Katsuki’s temper, but this. it wasn’t the same. There was something more restrained about him, like he was holding back.
“I don’t know, Katsuki,” Izuku spoke up, his voice soft but firm. “You haven’t been yourself lately. And we’re all worried about you, man. This isn’t just about the music anymore.”
The silence that followed was like a thick fog in the air. Katsuki winced, the words biting him, but he couldn't make himself respond. He didn't know how to justify it, not without drawing them into the mess that was his relationship with yo. He couldn't find words for the growing weight of yo's influence, how it was a matter of being continually shaped, remade into something else. Someone else.
He glanced at the group, his eyes narrowing as he took in their expressions—concern, disappointment, frustration. They were his friends, his family, and yet they didn’t understand. They couldn’t see what he saw, couldn’t feel what he felt. yo’s presence, his steady hand on Katsuki’s life, was undeniable now. But he wasn’t sure if his friends would ever accept it.
"We're just… worried, Katsuki," Hanta added, his usual teasing tone now laced with something darker. "You've been… off. You look different. And we can't keep acting like it isn't so."
The words hit him harder than he had expected, and for a moment, Katsuki experienced a pang of guilt. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but before he could form words, yo's voice cut through the strain, smooth and commanding.
"Is there something wrong here?"
The band looked around as one, startled by the abrupt materialization of yo standing in the doorway of the studio. His presence couldn't be missed, that same recognizable, authoritative energy emanating from him like an Alpha's presence. His gaze zeroed in on Katsuki with a sort of possessiveness that gave Katsuki a strange shiver down his spine.
“No problem at all,” Katsuki muttered, quickly standing from his seat. He didn’t want to make a scene, didn’t want to acknowledge the undercurrent of tension that had been building. “We’re just getting to work. Let’s not waste time.”
yo's eyes lingered a beat longer than necessary, sweeping over the band. Something was unsettling in his immobility, as though he was waiting for something. But when his eyes came back to Katsuki, they softened, somewhat.
“We’ll finish this session when everyone’s on the same page, alright?” yo’s voice was cool, controlled, but there was an edge to it, a silent command that everyone seemed to pick up on.
Katsuki felt the familiar pull of yo’s dominance, the way his Alpha’s presence seemed to center everything around him, and for a moment, he hated it. He hated how yo could walk into a room and immediately silence everything, how his influence on Katsuki had become so pervasive that it felt like the whole band had to fall in line. But he also felt a strange sense of comfort in it—like nothing mattered more than yo’s approval. Katsuki quickly sat down again, trying to suppress the searing in his chest. The band stopped playing, unsure how to react next. The awkwardness of the moment was choking, and for the first time, Katsuki couldn't help but wonder if his friends would never be able to accept the man he'd become—or the man who had made him that way.
The rehearsal continued, the music blending into the background as the tension within the band and between the band and its lead singer simmered just below the surface. And while Katsuki tried to focus on what was going on, his mind kept drifting back to that single, catastrophic thought: there was no going back now.
The studio was more silent than it had been in ages, the usual buzz of instruments and laughter traded for tense quiet. The other members of the band slouched around, their eyes flicking nervously over to Katsuki as he fiddled with the strings on his guitar, not playing—just *fiddling*. The air was heavier, with a tension that had nothing to do with speaking, and even the room itself seemed to be waiting with bated breath.
Denki was the first to break the silence, his voice wavering with frustration, but something else—*something raw*—dripping into his tone. “Katsuki. what’s going on? You’ve been *off* lately. We’ve been trying to keep the band together, and you—” His eyes flicked to the others for support, his omega scent rising slightly—spicy and sharp. A mix of anger and hurt that tinged the air around him, like an uninvited storm.
Izuku beside him nodded, a mixture of worry and confusion brewing behind his normally placid face. "We've all noticed. You're not showing up to rehearsals when you're supposed to. You're barely contributing when you *are* here. And when you *are* here, you're behaving like you don't even care. It's not just the band, it's… *everything*." His voice cracked slightly, and the faintest hint of his omega scent—distrust and frustration—leaked out, thickening the air.
Katsuki’s fingers stopped moving, and he turned his head slowly, his eyes colder than they had ever been. His scent was different, too—fainter, like the sharp bite of a thunderstorm just before the rain hit. It had been that way ever since he’d changed. Since *he’d* changed.
You think I don't care?" His voice wasn't loud, but it had a snap to it. The usual fiery edge was tempered by something far more calculating. "That's rich coming from you people. I've been doing this for *years* with you people. I don't owe you anything anymore.".
The words hit harder than any of them expected. There was a moment of stunned silence before Kirishima's voice sliced through it, anger simmering beneath his usual calm demeanor. His fragrance was a mix of deep frustration, and the barest whisper of an alpha's possessiveness—one he hadn't felt in a while, yet here it was now, heavy on the air.
"What the hell, Katsuki? We've been friends with you for years, and this is how you talk to us? You think that just because you've got some rich old man doing the behind-the-scenes work for you, you can throw us aside like this?" Kirishima's fists were clenched, his voice tight with emotion. His scent—musky and warm—was something that Katsuki had always been used to, but now it seemed to rub against the cold he was feeling.
Katsuki's expression didn't change, but his scent shifted—darker, almost possessive. "I'm *still* here, aren't I?" His voice had lowered now, almost to a strained tone, as if he was trying to hold something back inside. "I'm still here. I didn't leave you in the lurch, and I'm not *going* to. But things are different, and I'm not the same man I was when we started this band.".
“And why’s that?” Izuku demanded, his voice a mix of desperation and hurt, his omega scent clouding the air—wounded and trembling, just on the edge of breaking. “What happened, Katsuki? You’ve changed, and not in a good way. What’s really going on?”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something almost dangerous.
There was an edge to his scent now—sharp, almost metallic—as though he was holding back something that could explode at any moment. “I’m married now, alright? ” His words came out in a rush, as though he’d been holding them back for too long. “I’ve got a life outside of this band now. yo… he’s been good to me. He *cares* about me. I cannot simply continue living my life as I did before, as if we are all still after the same dream that we once shared.
The room fell into another silence. The band members looked at each other, shocked, before Kirishima spoke again, his voice thick with pain, a strong alpha’s protectiveness rising to the surface. “This *is* your dream, Katsuki. It *was* our dream together. But now it’s like… it’s like you’re leaving us behind.”
Katsuki’s eyes hardened, and his scent grew heavier, colder. His omega instincts were still there, but something else had taken over—something he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just *fading* from them. He was *pulling away*. There was a hardness in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, a deep-rooted sense of *self* that had only grown stronger with time.
"I'm *still* here, aren't I?" He repeated, yet this time the words didn't sound as comforting as they had before. The band could feel it in the way his presence seemed to *shift*—farther away now, less tethered to the people who had once been his world.
Denki's voice trembled, the first hint of bitterness seeping into his words. "So, what now, Katsuki? You're leaving? Just like that? After all this?"
Katsuki's eyes hardened, his scent sharply acute with finality. He inhaled deeply, but there was no longer any vestige of affection in his breath. "Yeah. After all this. I'll still be here for the first half of the tour, but after that… I'm gone. Tempers are fraying, and who am I to make the band miserable?"
His words stung, a cold wind cutting through the warmth of their friendship. The laughter at the end—empty, forced—was the last blow. He looked at them once more before he left the room, the scent of his omega nature still there—but now it was distant, and much colder than before.
________________________________________
Absolutely! Here is the revised version without the bold headings:
---
The band had been together for five years now. What had felt like a bond forged in fire and anarchy had started to break, its foundations growing weaker as the years passed. In those five years, *Half of Us* had exploded into the spotlight, from nothing to one of the world's most beloved bands. But the cracks had always been there, simmering beneath the surface. And now, the cracks were becoming too large to ignore.
Katsuki sat in front of the camera, his usual wild presence subdued. His makeup was subdued now—soft blush to bring out the sharp lines of his cheekbones, subtle shine of lip gloss, and a subtle hint of mascara that trembled against his short lashes. His ruffled white shirt was something different from anything he'd worn previously, soft and almost elegant contrast to the loud, explosive person he once was. He looked at his reflection for a moment, playing with his choker, as if it were somehow holding him back to the person that he used to be.
The interviewer broke the silence and interrupted his train of thought.
"So, Katsuki, after five years with *Half of Us*, we've been hearing some rumors that you're going to be leaving the band after the upcoming months of touring. Any truth in that?"
Katsuki’s hand, which had been fiddling with the hem of his shirt, stilled. He stared at the interviewer for a moment, his sharp gaze narrowing as he took in the question. His body stiffened, and for a split second, it was as if he was trying to reconcile the reality of what he was about to say.
"Yeah," he replied, his tone even but distant, "that's right. I'll do the first few months on tour, but after that, I'm out. He paused, his eyes flicking to the side. "Tensions are running high, and. who am I to make the band miserable? No hard feelings, though. I love them, even if we're not on good terms." He laughed, but it was a hollow one.
The interviewer blinked, clearly taken aback by the bluntness of the statement, but they pushed forward with another question, asking about the cause of the tension. Katsuki’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, his lips curling into a tight smile as he played off the pain, careful to give only half of the truth.
But the truth was there, lingering in the undertones. The shift. The change.
---
The pressure of the initial months of tour had been exhausting, draining even, but it was not the physicality that was getting to him. Katsuki had always thrived on the energy of the stage—the rush of adrenaline, the screaming fans, the camaraderie with his bandmates. But now, everything had started to wear off. It was all a mechanical action now, without the heart being in it.
The band, naturally, had not failed to notice. Denki was unable to breach the barrier Katsuki had built between them with his normally effervescent energy. Kyouka would toss him a concerned glance every so often, but Katsuki would brush it off, acting as if everything was fine. And Mina. Mina had stopped even trying to connect.
Katsuki was always the loudmouth, the prankster, the one who kept things crazy, off-kilter. Now he barely spoke at all. He avoided the others, locked in his own mind or simply too drained to bother. On stage, his voice was still as commanding as ever, cutting through the music with that same raw, unmistakable force that had made him the heart of Half of Us.
But there was no fire in his eyes anymore.
---
Katsuki’s life, his appearance, everything had started changing after he married yo. At first, it had been subtle—small adjustments to his wardrobe, a shift in his choices, things he didn’t notice at first but couldn’t ignore once they began to pile up. He’d started wearing softer clothes, more delicate, more feminine. yo had always been a part of creating his look, but the deeper they were into their relationship, the more Katsuki felt like he was losing himself. The transformation was not just physical; it was emotional too. His once confident, bold demeanor was now overshadowed by the weight of yo's influence. Katsuki no longer made the effort to resist the subtle pushes, the occasional remarks here and there about how he had to present himself to the world. yo had always considered him weak, something to be protected, something to be molded.
At first, Katsuki had fought, but now he felt himself slipping into the character yo had created for him: soft, graceful, and cultured. He couldn't recognize the person who was reflected back at him in the mirror, but it didn't appear to make a difference. He wasn't sure when he'd lost himself, but he wasn't sure he cared to anymore.
The pregnancy had come as a shock. He hadn't expected it, not after everything that had gone down. And yet here he was, pregnant with a child that yo was thrilled about, even if Katsuki himself was… unsure. Everything in the world seemed to be moving at a speed faster than he could keep up with. One day, he was Katsuki of Half of Us, and the next, he was someone else entirely—someone trying to adjust to a new personality that wasn't his own.