Izuku had grown up believing, at least peripherally, a few fundamental truths. First, that when someone saw another person in trouble the right thing to do was to intervene and try to help however they could. Second, being honest was always the best policy. Third, only bad people got arrested and went to prison. Easy, simple things he’d learned as a child and has never felt the need to challenge those ideas.
Not until he was officially sentenced to life in prison, in spite of being honest and cooperative throughout his entire case. He had, he’d admitted, done the crime in question: he’d seen an alpha pushing around an omega in public, yelling in their face while shoving and smacking them, and he’d intervened. He’d pushed the other alpha yes, but he hadn’t meant for them to fall back like they had, to trip over their own feet and too drunk to protect themselves, go tumbling over the edge of the curb.
He hadn’t meant for them to hit their head with the sickening crack.
He’d killed a person but it had been an accident, so he hadn’t seen the point in denying it or fighting or waiting for a lawyer before telling his story to the cops.
Everything after had been a whirlwind. The omega he’d tried to help lied to the police, swore in court that he was the one who’d started the fight, that he was some sort of crazed feral alpha who’d viciously killed their poor, helpless mate and left them alone in the world with three pups who would never know their sire. The alpha he’d killed turned out to be a detective, a member of the very force who ended up picking him up, and once they had his confession they had only rage and violence for him. Nothing outright while he languished in holding, the wheels of so called justice turning rapidly on the outside, but he was shoved into cells with bigger, angrier alphas often, found himself shoved in the halls by smirking guards, his food tray filled with things just this side of rotting or knocked from his hands before he could eat. He was made to clean late into the night and woken up before the sun rose to do more of the same, scrubbing with harsh chemicals on his hands and knees until his skin was raw and bleeding.
But still he believed, in spite of everything, that things would work out. He wasn’t a bad person, he wasn’t lying, he hadn’t meant to hurt anyone so he couldn’t possibly go to prison. Life didn’t work that way.
He was wrong. Guilty on all charges, with a bonus label of ‘Feral’, life term, no chance of parole, sentenced to spend the rest of his life at a High Security facility for Dangerous and Deranged Alphas. It was as isolated a place as isolated got, a small island reachable only by boat or plane, staffed by highly trained guards with carte blanche to use any force needed to keep the prisoners inside the tall stone and wire walls. But within the walls it was near anarchy, the prisoners left mostly to their own devices so long as they obeyed the minimal rules and didn’t attempt escape.
Izuku’s lawyer, Tensei Iida, told him all of this on the ride to the boat, expression stormy and eyes distant as he spoke; Izuku got the feeling that the older man was looking past him, or through him, to some far gone point. It was only when Izuku was put in his shackles and chains, muzzled roughly, and situated on the small ferry that his lawyer’s attention snapped back to him fully.
“Keep your head down Midoriya, stay out of trouble. We’ll fight this, I swear. I won’t leave you in that place.”
That was the last friendly word he heard before Iida was made to leave his side and return to the dock and, he was sure, would be the last one he heard for a while. He intended to take the words to heart and do as he was told. He had faith in Iida, not just because he didn’t have much choice in the matter (his family didn’t have much money but his mother had somehow gotten Iida to take on is case pro bono) but because the man was honest and earnest and had never once doubted his story.
Iida would get him out. He just had to keep it together until then.
It was a true testament to his bad luck that he was on the island for barely an hour, just long enough to be uncuffed, made to scrub down before an audience with tepid water and greasy soap then put into scratchy, ill fitting yellow canvas pants and a shirt, and pushed through the main gate into a wide open dusty recreation yard, when he made his first misstep. The yard was huge, with a large grassy field, surrounded by a dusty track taking up about half, a basketball court, ‘gym’ area with weights and other equipment, and lots of picnic style tables and benches crammed into the rest. There was a building, two stories tall and running the length of the rec area, with multiple propped open doors; he’d been told the living areas were through those doors and that his specifically was in A block. He spotted the door quickly and started for it, eyes dropping to the thin folder he’d been handed. His room assignment, map, and schedule were inside, along with information to access his account, a fund for buying anything that wasn’t already provided for him. He opened it, took note of his room number (1A, roommate Shouto T, head guard Aizawa) flipped to the map of A Block and-
Slammed right into someone’s back. A wide, hard back that felt more like staching into a wall than a person, if he was being strictly honest.
His head snapped up, eyes going wide, as the sound of something shattering against the ground made his heart sink. His heart leapt into his throat, threatening to choke him, as the loud din of the yard faded to the background and the shoulders of the person he had collided with rose in plain irritation. A smell like smoke and burning wood flooded Izuku’s nose.
“Shit.” Someone said from the side but it wasn’t him, the alpha he’d run into, the one standing statue still and so rigid, the one Izuku could smell the anger radiating from. Izuku’s whole world narrowed down to this one alpha and the violence he could taste in the air around him. Slowly, painfully slowly, the man turned to look down at him with furious red eyes. “What. The. Fuck?” Izuku opened his mouth. Shut it with a snap, eyes darting to the ground and the mess of shattered glass and some dark liquid that was being sucked up into the hard packed dirt. It looked like a drink, smelled earthy and a little fruity. Alcohol, maybe? Were they allowed alcohol here? “I…sorry!” Izuku said, voice a little too loud, too panicked.
“I can replace it or- well maybe not replace it, yet, but I will! I promise.” His account was bare, he already knew, and it would be a little while before his mom could help him out but there were supposed to be jobs for prisoners, he was sure he could pick something up.
“You promise?” The red eyed man hissed, lips drawing back to show wickedly sharp teeth, already dropped and dripping with alpha venom. “You know how long it takes to get that shit here, and how much I pay to get it past the guards?” “Ah…well. No. But-”
A number was spat at him and Izuku wheezed in shock. That was…for just a single bottle of something? It was so much! From what he knew of the jobs here he’d be working this off for months, if he was lucky!
“I-” A hand gripped him by the front of his shirt and he was hauled up to his tiptoes as the alpha bent forward; they came so close their noses were almost touching.
“You’re going to work it off for me. Starting tonight, at dinner. One of my guys will bring you around."
Izuku was dropped abruptly, not even able to get out a response before he was flopping down on the dusty earth. He sputtered, words not coming to him, as the red eyed man stormed off, trailed by a blond and a redhead who, as he stepped over Izuku, shot him a sympathetic look, into the building. He sighed, head dropping into his palms. God, how was he in trouble already? So much for keeping his head down.
"Bakugou,” Kaminari asked as soon as they’d retreated back to their shared cell. “What was that? You know it’s just shitty toilet wine, it isn’t worth even close to what you told that guy.” Bakugou rolled his eyes.
"I know that, idiot, but the new guy doesn’t.“ He smiled, tongue running over the points of his alpha teeth. "Go find Shinsou, find out if he still has that ‘stuff’."
Kirishima stood up a little straighter, eyes going big and round in his face. "Bro-"
"He’s cute, and it’s been awhile since anyone made an omega.” His eyes gleamed, hungry and wicked.