Maroon

This is normal, your therapist said, writing something down on her clipboard. They were your first relationship and the only one you've ever had. It'll be a while before you feel fully separate from them. It'll go away after a while.

And, to an extent, you resonated with her words. However, you mostly felt like you'd either die an old spinster or go back to Uraume within a few months, dealing with whatever spiteful behavior they'd send your way in the meantime.

It was your fault for bringing that up to Izumi, who had gasped like you just told her you had sex with her boyfriend. She slapped a hand on her chest so hard it echoed through the fairly-empty cafe you were in. "Absolutely not! You will not go back to that sad excuse of a person!" she halfway-shrieked, shaking her head violently. "I will personally ruin your life if you do!"

Izumi proceeded to tell the rest of your friends and, tonight, for the past two-and-a-half hours, they'd made you two different profiles on two different dating apps and had been swiping through them endlessly. Somewhere during that time, Asahi suggested that you screen mirror your phone to the TV, forcing you to partake in the process.

"This guy is suspicious," Shiori says, scrolling through a random guy's profile on Hinge. His name was Jiro, and he liked working out, going to new restaurants, and true crime documentaries.

"He's just boring," Izumi replies, tapping her chin. You shrink deeper into your spot on the couch as Asahi looked over at you.

"What's your opinion, [Name]?"

All you can muster is a non-committal shrug, pulling your blanket further up your body until it covered everything but your eyes. You just can't shake the guilt, the absolute terror of having to consider dating. When you started dating Uraume, you were barely 16. Dating wasn't even a thought in your mind. Now, you were 27 and hopeless.

Asahi frowns at your answer and looks back to the screen, chewing on her bottom lip. "Okay, okay, next. Clearly this guy isn't the one."

Shiori clicks the little 'X' next to Asahi's profile. Hinge takes a second to load the next profile, probably from the sheer amount of people you've swiped past at this point, and—

The room goes silent. You're so shocked by what's on your screen that you perk up from your blanket a bit, your mouth forming a small 'O' shape.

"Now, hold on a minute," Izumi chokes out, covering her mouth. "What in the world am I looking at?"

"God incarnate, perhaps," Shiori says, and you can't help but agree. On your screen is the most beautiful man you've ever seen in your life, with shaggy white hair and a pair of frighteningly blue eyes. He's dressed in a black compression shirt and a pair of baggy, white sweatpants, holding up a peace-sign to the camera.

Your eyes flit up to the top of the screen, and your blood runs cold. The silence continues as you all take in what you're looking at.

Satoru and Suguru.

"They're looking…for a third," Asahi finally says, the words sounding like a death chant more than anything. "Just our luck. God and he's looking for a third."

"Well, let's just see who the girl is. Scroll, Shiori. Maybe she's really hot too and [Name] can just be hot with them."

"I'm afraid to scroll. I won't be able to bear it if she's hot too."

"Not that it'll matter," you finally speak, and everyone's head whips towards you at lightening speed. "It's not like I can go from intense, decade-long monogamy to relaxed polygamy."

Shiori scrolls slowly, like she can't handle seeing who's waiting for her below the cut-off. Slowly, but surely, the second person is revealed: long black hair, thin, catlike eyes, and the most elegant smile you've ever seen in your life. It's a shot of them at the beach, sitting on a blue towel underneath the shade of a generic beach umbrella.

And, also, they're clearly a man. Satoru and Suguru are two men.

"If you don't like them, [Name], you're dead to me," Shiori says, scrolling farther down the page. There's several pictures of them, clearly from multiple different years. One of them holding up a big, fluffy, white cat, one of Satoru looking at Suguru so lovingly it makes you sick. Somewhat disapointingly, you wonder if Uraume ever looked at you like that.

You wonder if these two would look at you like that, too.

The room waits in baited breath as Shiori scrolls to the bottom of the page and you assess all of the pictures. You feel a million different ways, none of the feelings very good or welcoming. The image of Uraume lingers in your mind from the very moment you broke up with them; tears forming in their eyes, anger filling their expression.

"Sure," you say, clearing your throat. "Why the hell not."

Shiori wastes no time sending a like on one of the pictures, making a comment on their cat. She sends it off, and you swear you might feel a little more detached from Uraume than you ever have before.

—

You stand outside of a fancy Italian restaurant downtown, hugging yourself for comfort while you try to hype yourself up enough to walk inside.

It had taken less than a week for you to end up on a date with Satoru and Suguru, thanks to the excessive meddling of your friends. When you matched with them, Izumi had screamed so loudly it worried your neighbors. She forced you to message them back, staring over your shoulder while you texted them.

It didn't take you long to figure out which one was which. Satoru was, to put it lightly, bad at typing, his messages filled with typos and an utter lack of capitalization or punctuation. Suguru was the complete opposite, ending most of his messages with a period (which was scary) and using far less emojis in his speak.

For the most part, you enjoyed texting with them. However, standing outside this restaurant, you couldn't imagine this date going well. You were so nervous you could barely breathe, fingers trembling against your phone. You had already half-drafted a text to Asahi, begging her to come pick you up.

You'd arrived at 7:59, right on time, but now it was 8:08 and you were eight minutes late to your date because you were too much of a wimp to go inside. You repeat Shiori's fighting words in your mind over and over again, desperate to force yourself to go inside.

Were you going to let Uraume and their reign of terror on your life win? Were you that weak so as to pass up on a date with Gorgeous #1 and Gorgeous #2?

Your feet are moving before your mind catches up with it. You can't let Uraume win, you can't go back to them. You can't go back to never hanging out with your friends and being tracked 24/7.

The restaurant is quiet and calm, which is surprising given the sheer size of it. You're immediately stopped by a hostess, who offers you a polite smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "What's the name on your reservation?"

"It should be under Gojo," you say, hoping she doesn't notice the shake in your voice. Her eyes widen and she perks up instantly, smiling much wider.

"Oh, of course! Right this way, ma'am," she says, taking you into the depths of the restaurant. The farther back you go, the more you feel like you're marching towards your death. You spot them in a booth in the corner, smiling and giggling with each other like a couple of lovesick schoolgirls, and you consider turning around.

Satoru spots you before he can. He raises an eyebrow and waves, causing Suguru to look over at you as well. You struggle to believe they're real people, seeing them in person. They're far too perfect to be truly alive.

The host bids you goodbye and you slide into the U-shaped booth, keeping a decent amount of room between you and Suguru. "Sorry I'm late," you say, looking down at your trembling hands. "Um, I just got into a little bit of traffic. Didn't think I'd be this late, so I didn't text."

"For a second there, I thought you were standing us up," Satoru jokes, and Suguru immediately digs an elbow into his side, causing the former to yelp in pain.

"You're not funny, Satoru," Suguru speaks, and his voice is like honey on your ears. "He didn't mean that. We didn't think you were going to stand us up."

"Well, I'm glad. That would've made things awkward," you say, finding hard to look either one of them in the eye. "Did you guys make it here okay?"

"Satoru's a terrible driver, so I wouldn't say we made it here okay."

"Well, if you get your driver's license, maybe you wouldn't have to deal with my terrible driving anymore."

You watch them go back and forth contently, somewhat enjoying listening to them bicker. It helps you get rid of the nerves that plague your entire body, and coming down from the adrenaline rush makes you feel a little more excited to be there. Satoru looks over at you, going as far to put his hand in Suguru's face to shut him up.

"So, how've you been? Anything new pop up in your life? Is your neighbor still being annoying?"

You chuckle, endeared at the fact that he remembers anything about you. You make up some half-baked answer, trying to make yourself seem as interesting as possible. Suguru is much better at asking you questions, avoiding anything about your personal life.

The two of them are clearly very nice, at least from what you're seeing. They make you feel comfortable and relaxed, a stark difference to how you were feeling before coming in. Satoru insists on ordering your food, because "it's what guys do on the first date," and Suguru tells him that it's not 1805 anymore. There's no underhanded insults or vague accusations that make you feel like throwing up, no scrutiny of your outfits or the way you talk.

The two of them are just…them. It's refreshing.

Of course, you should've expected it couldn't be fun and surface level all the time. As the waitress takes away your plates, Suguru clears his throat, leaning back into his seat. At some point throughout the night, you'd moved a little closer to him, so close you could see the little details of his face.

"Not to make this terribly serious," he starts, and a sinking feeling appears in your stomach. "But I just wanted to check in with you about what Satoru and I are looking for, which is something fairly serious."

You nod, glancing over at Satoru. For the first time tonight, he actually looks nervous, like he's expecting you to reject them, or something. If you were to reject them, you think your friends would eat you whole.

"Yeah, like, not a hook-up thing, you know. If that's not what you were looking for, well, then…"

Truthfully, it's not. You weren't really sure if you wanted anything serious ever again, not after the last decade of your life being miserable. At the same time, you enjoyed their presence and the way they made you feel, so you didn't want to reject them.

Perhaps you would just feel it out, see where it went, and go from there. Casual dating is normal, Shiori insisted while rummaging through your closet. One date doesn't equal committed relationship.

"If you'll have me, I'd love to keep hanging out with you guys. In a non-hook-up-y way." You smile, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.

The anxiety on Satoru's face melts into pure joy, and, for a moment, you think you could get used to them.

—

Two months later, you hang out with Satoru and Suguru once or twice a week, and you spend the rest of your time looking forward to seeing them again. It's nice to have a little schoolgirl crush again, to not be so settled with your life and the people in it.

However, you just can't seem to get past the guilty feeling in your chest. It lingers all the time, growing when Suguru smiles at you or Satoru forces his way to the edge of the sidewalk when you're walking. It gets even worse when one of them touches you, even if it's something innocent like holding your hand or an arm around your shoulder.

Your therapist suggests being honest with them, about Uraume and the trauma you have, but every time you think you're close to letting it spill out, you can't do it. The thought of bringing them into your sweet, drama-less relationship makes you feel sick.

So, you deal with the guilt. You give them vague stories about your life and your earlier years, avoiding mention of your ex entirely. You dodge questions about your dating history and attempt to flip it back around on them, to no avail; they've only dated each other, too.

At some point, they stop asking, which you appreciate, but you can't help but think about what they say to each other when you're not there. It makes hanging out with them worse, and it makes you freak out about your life at random times.

Which is why you ended up at a 7/11 down the street from your apartment at midnight, staring at the ice cream with red eyes and a stuffy nose. Everything looks disgusting to you, but you know it'll make you feel better, so you force yourself to consider your options. Milk and cookies, chocolate chip cookie dough, cannoli—

"[Name]?"

You freeze. You haven't heard that voice in a long time; it's always reminded you of high school mean girls, tainted with a mocking lilt that you've always hated. You hated everyone in Uraume's life.

You slowly turn to the side, making eye contact with Yorozu. She's dressed far too fancy to be in a 7/11 at midnight, in a form-fitting, red dress as opposed to your bright-pink sweatpants and stained sweatshirt. "Yorozu," you huff, praying for this moment to end quickly.

"I haven't seen you in a while. You look worse for wear," she scoffs with a slight tilt of her head, looking you up and down. "Honestly, I thought you'd be back with Uraume by now. Seems your tantrum's running longer than they'd hoped."

Shivers roll down your spine at her words, chilling your entire body in a second. You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "What do you mean tantrum? I broke up with them for good. I don't want them in my life anymore."

"Sure, sure. We certainly missed having you tonight, though. You were always very personable with our guests," Yorozu smiles. You're about to ask her what she meant, but then Sukuna comes rounding the corner, and you wonder if this is a divine punishment sent to you from God himself.

He grunts when he sees you, his face contorting into an expression mixed with anger and disgust. You're sure you're number one on his hit list right now, as your break up with Uraume apparently had them calling out of work for weeks (as according to what Izumi had told you).

Yorozu's face lights up the moment she sees him, and she immediately grabs hold of his arm, leaning her head on his bicep. "Mr. Sukuna here had his book launch tonight. It was a long time coming…we were sad to not have you on the project."

Every word that comes out of Yorozu's mouth is a lie. It was more like you were sad to not be on the project anymore, given the fact that being the Sukuna's book editor was the biggest gig you'd ever gotten, but it was a small price to pay to be free from Uraume.

"Yes. The door is always open for you, [Name], assuming…"

You cringe. Were things on Uraume's end that bad? So much so that his mentor-turned-father-figure who hated your guts wanted you to come back? Maybe you weren't doing as badly as you thought.

You open your mouth to reply, but are quickly cut off by Satoru Gojo, who looks angrier than you've ever seen him before. Dressed in a suit and tie, he strolls over to you with conviction, his usual smile plastered on his face so tightly you wonder if it hurts.

"[Name]," Satoru calls, his voice dripping with venom. "Fancy seeing you here!"

He walks behind you, locking his arm around your waist. Suguru follows behind him, a scowl pressed onto his features. It's unlike him—the Suguru you know always has a light smile on his face, or an inquisitive expression. He rounds to your other side, standing uncomfortably close to you.

"Sukuna, Yorozu," Suguru greets, interlacing his fingers with yours. "Interesting to see you've left your own party early."

"I'm even more shocked to see you seem to know [Name]," Yorozu comments, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Are you three…a thing?"

"She's our girlfriend, yes," Satoru announces, and you do your best to not grimace at the words. That certainly wasn't true, and it would also likely lead to your demise.

Both Sukuna and Yorozu take pause at that, and you can see Sukuna's Adam's apple bob as he swallows, perhaps annoyed that he'll have to leave and go tell Uraume his ex-fiancée is in a relationship with two people he apparently already knows.

"Wow. I didn't take you the type to move on so quickly," Yorozu says, and you begin to prepare yourself for the end of the secret you've kept so carefully. Perhaps it was better for her to reveal it against your will, you cope, so at least they'd find out relatively early on.

"Move on?" Satoru questions, furrowing his brows. Yorozu's smile turns impish, and you close your eyes, waiting for the bomb to drop.

"Don't you know?" she asks. "[Name] and Uraume were in a relationship for 11 years and broke up, like, half-a-year ago. She even ghost-wrote half the book Sukuna released tonight."

Satoru's grip on your waist tightens while Suguru lets go of your hand, and there's a slight pause. You look over at Suguru's face, which goes through about a thousand emotions in a second. Finally, it lands on a calm, unbothered expression, with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, right. I forgot about that," Suguru hums. "She doesn't talk about them much. Guess she did move on."

The silence between you all is so thick that you feel like you're suffocating. While you sit there, you make some rudimentary connections in your mind; you suppose it wouldn't be wrong to assume that the Gojo in Satoru's name comes from the Gojo Conglomerate, which has lost more than a couple of court cases to the almighty defense lawyer Sukuna in the past. Maybe you were stupid to think you'd come across a beautiful, blue-eyed Gojo that wasn't a part of the Gojo family, but you thought the likelihood of that was slim to none either way.

"Right, well," Sukuna says after a moment, his voice grating on your ears. "We should leave. Good luck with her."

Sukuna practically drags Yorozu out of the building and, once they're gone, you immediately detach yourself from Satoru's grip. The silence continues between the three of you, though both of the boys have their eyes on you now. You stare at your shoes, wishing you could go back in time and refuse making a Hinge profile at all.

Suguru grabs your chin and raises it up, forcing you to look at him. His touch is soft and kind, which you weren't expecting given the exchange you'd just had. He doesn't look particularly angry, which you appreciate. Satoru, on the other hand, looks like he'd just withstood the betrayal of a lifetime, staring at you with those harrowing blue eyes.

You feel the tears from earlier returning, though you do your best to hold them in. Your life sucked so bad and you weren't even 30 yet.

Suguru sighs, dropping your chin and shaking his head. "I suppose we need to talk. Would you like to come eat some ice cream at our apartment?"

You don't really want to at all, but you nod, following the two outside to a fancy, black car parked on the curb. You sit in the back like a child, rapidly tapping your fingers on your knees and trying to keep your nausea at bay. The ride is fairly silent, save for Satoru and Suguru debriefing their time at Sukuna's book launch. You learn that your hunch was right: Sukuna had forced the Gojo family to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars in lawsuits, and had likely invited Satoru just to piss them off.

How had you managed to be so unlucky? Maybe you needed to visit a psychic to cleanse your bad energy, or something. Or maybe you'd been hexed. You didn't know.

After a short drive, the three of you pull into the parking garage below one of the fanciest apartment buildings in the city, which doesn't shock you one bit. "Welcome to Casa de Satoru," Suguru mumbles under his breath, a slightly-joking tone in his voice. They park in spot number 25, and, despite it all, Satoru opens the car door for you, grabbing your hand to help you out of the car.

You ride the elevator up to the 54th floor, which opens into a small hallway with two doors on opposite sides. Satoru and Suguru's apartment is, fittingly, 2254, and, when you walk in, you allow yourself a moment to ogle at the space. It's beautiful, filled with art and color and everything you would've hoped for in an apartment like this. Everything has a blue tint, which fits Satoru's overall vibe perfectly.

"Do you like it?" Suguru asks, patting your back as you look around. "It was way worse before I moved in. Took a while to make it this nice."

"It's beautiful in here. Fit for a couple like you two," you say, watching as Satoru drags his feet into the living room and collapses onto the couch. He loosens his tie and leans his head back on the top of the couch, letting out a loud sigh.

You quickly slip your shoes off and scuttle inside, taking a seat on the very edge. Suguru chooses to sit next to Satoru, and you swear you're having flashbacks to the many times Uraume sat you down and berated you for hours.

For a couple seconds it's quiet, and you decide they're probably expecting you to talk. "Listen, I was going to tell you at some point," you start, swallowing thickly. Every word that comes out of your mouth feels like glass ripping down your throat. "As you can probably imagine, despite the fact that it lasted so long, my relationship with Uraume wasn't the greatest, and it's still a tough subject for me."

Suguru nods slowly, and you assume he's going to speak. Instead, Satoru rapidly sits up, a look of deep hurt on his face. It makes you cringe.

"I don't know the half of it, clearly," he starts, voice strained and upset. "But it obviously sucks bad for me that I didn't know. I guess I didn't really bring up the whole family lineage thing, but, still, it sucks. It sucks really bad."

"I know, and I do feel sorry. But I can barely even talk about it with my friends, who knew me the entire time we were together," you defend, taking a long, shakey breath. "And I want to be able to talk about it more. I want to believe that it doesn't affect me anymore, but it does, you know? It just does."

Satoru is about to reply, but Suguru places a hand on his thigh, shutting him up like someone would shut up a dog. Satoru leans back instead, returning to staring at the ceiling.

"You don't need to tell us anything you don't want to," he insists, rubbing Satoru's thigh. "But it would be nice to have at least some context. Given our prior connections."

You bring your knees up to your chest, leaning your head on them. "They were my class president in high school. Asked me out first year, and we were together ever since. They controlled just about every facet of my life, from where I went to college to how often I hung out with my friends. I finally got the courage to break up with them in April. That's pretty much the gist of it."

You hear some rustling and then the feeling of the couch dipping next to you. Suguru's arms wrap around your curled-up figure, a welcome weight amongst your anxiety. There's a couple more seconds of nothing before you watch Satoru sit down next to you, leaning against your shoulder. The three of you sit there for a moment, unmoving.

"We're serious about you," Suguru says, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "If you'll have us."

"You promise?"

"We could show you," Satoru says.

"If you'd like that, of course," Suguru adds.

You look up from your curled-up position, making eye contact with Satoru. He looks primal, almost, staring at you like you're his prey. In a momentary lapse of judgment, you bask in the feeling of being wanted. Realistically, you know it's probably not smart to have sex with them when you're emotional and generally gross, but part of you feels like it'll be good for you to stick it to the man.

You could move on, you knew you could. You weren't having a tantrum, you were getting on with your life.

"Yeah…I would like that. I guess."

Satoru's mouth hungrily crashes into yours, pushing you back into Suguru's chest. You kiss him back with a fervor you haven't had in a long time, soaking up the want oozing off of him. You haven't felt this way in years.

Suguru dips his head down, pressing light kisses up and down your neck, slipping his hands under your shirt and massaging your hips. Satoru puts his hands over Suguru's, pushing his palms harder into your body.

Suguru adjusts so that you are leaning up against his chest, tapping Satoru on the back of his head. Satoru pulls away from you, giving Suguru a look of confusion that quickly melts into recognition.

Satoru leans back for a moment, if only to let Suguru tug your sweatshirt off, revealing nothing but the three-year-old bra you put on that morning. Satoru leans back down and leaves light kisses down your stomach, only detaching his hands from Suguru's to wrap his fingers around the edge of your waistband.

In a moment of panic, you squeak out a short "wait," causing Satoru to pause and look up at you. His eyes, the color of sapphires, bore into yours like sunlight, and you struggle to keep eye contact.

"Hm?" Suguru hums in your ear, dragging his nails up and down your sides. Goosebumps spread over your skin, causing a shiver to run across your body.

"Um, I haven't shaved in a while," you choke out, anxiety running through your body. "And I didn't shower today."

Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes. "I'm a grown man," he says. "Do you think I care about a little hair? Suguru hasn't shaved in years."

You feel your cheeks grow warm as Satoru waits for you to give him the go ahead. "Well, if you're sure," you approve, shrinking into Suguru's chest. Satoru wastes no time getting back to work, lifting your hips and taking off your sweatpants and underwear in one fluid motion. His breath is cold on your dripping pussy as he stares at your core, eyes dark. You prepare yourself for contact, but nothing ever comes.

Instead, Satoru looks up past you, presumably at Suguru, like he's asking for permission.

"Well, go on, Satoru," Suguru says calmly, as he removes your boobs from your bra, massaging them tenderly. "She's waiting so patiently for you."

Without further hesitation, Satoru dives in, warm tongue running up and down your soaking folds. His skillful tongue finds your clit with ease, licking it just right. Pleasure builds in you like it never has before—Uraume was never this good, not even with 10 years of practice.

Of course Satoru was perfect at this, as he was perfect at everything. Soft mewls escape your lips, no matter how hard you try to hold them in, and you writhe against Suguru's chest. You throw your head back over his shoulder, giving him easy access to your neck.

While Satoru continues to attack your clit, Suguru kneads at your breasts, nipping at your neck and shoulders. Every so often, Satoru moans against your clit, sending shockwaves up your body. It's too much—both of them are too much. You're putty in their hands, completely at their disposal for however long they'd like.

"Look how much she likes this, Satoru." Suguru sings, resting his chin on your shoulder. You look back down at Satoru, who looks like he's in heaven. "Tell him how much you like it, hm?"

"It's so good," you whine. Pressure begins to build up in your core, and you push yourself back into Suguru's chest. "I think—I'm about to—"

In one fell swoop, Suguru runs his hand through Satoru's hair and pulls him away from your cunt, dangling his head in front of you. You let out a cry of displeasure, your hips chasing Satoru's mouth.

"I don't think you've earned it yet, baby," Suguru says, pushing Satoru's head fully away from you. He looks upset, too, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks flushed pink.

"I think she's earned it," he quips, but he doesn't move, as if he won't do anything against Suguru's word. You nod eagerly, turning to look at Suguru. His cheeks are flushed, too, from just watching the two of you.

You can feel his cock pressing against your back through his dress pants, and, in retaliation, you jerk backwards, causing a hiss to escape Suguru's lips. "Resourceful, now, are we?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Satoru, switch with me."

Suguru gets up from behind you, and you can barely comprehend what's happening as Satoru quickly meets him in the middle, smashing his lips against Suguru. They quickly begin undressing each other while you watch, ripping buttons off shirts and throwing ties across the room. Sitting awkwardly, you decide to just take your bra off, unclipping it and throwing it on top of Satoru's discarded tie.

Moments later, Satoru slots himself behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. He puts his chin on top of your head before leaning down to place a kiss on your head. "Y'know, [Name], your ex being my mortal enemy aside, I'm a pretty big fan of 'ya."

"Oh, great to know," you reply, watching Suguru kneel on the cushion in front of you. His cock is huge, girthy, and, for a moment, you'll wonder if it'll even fit inside you.

He runs the head through your slick folds. You moan at the contact, overstimulated by the whole experience. Your clit aches with the memory of Satoru's mouth, and all you want is for Suguru to make you cum.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Suguru asks, eyes serious. Immediately, embarrassment blooms in your chest, and all you can do is nod, hoping that will be enough.

"No can do, babe," Satoru says, his voice reverberating through his chest. "Gotta use your words, 'kay? It's what Suguru likes."

You gulp, taking a deep breath and swallowing your pride. "I want you to fuck me, Suguru, please."

With a satisfied smile, Suguru slowly pushes inside your cunt, cushiony walls enveloping him until he's all the way in to the base. He's big, and you knew that, but the feeling of fullness is overwhelming and every slight movement sends electricity running through you.

Suguru begins at a steady pace, reaching down to rub your clit in the process. Your back arches and pushes against Satoru; you try to pull away from the pleasure, but Satoru holds you there, making you take everything Suguru has to give you.

Soon, even Suguru can't control himself, rolling his hips against yours. Every thrust draws an unwilling sob from your lips, and you do anything to relieve the pressure building in you. You lift your arms and place them on the back of Satoru's head, squeezing your eyes shut.

You'd never had sex like this before, not once. You don't know what to do with yourself, with this, and all you can do is try to hold on for dear life.

"Don't kill her, Sugu. She looks like she's going to pass out."

A slow moan escapes Suguru's lips. "Shut the fuck up, Satoru."

It's not long before that familiar coil begins to build in your lower half. You begin to whine, "Suguru, I..I.." you barely stutter out as white hot pleasure rips through your body. Suguru works you through it, now lightly drawing circles on your swollen clit. Despite reaching your climax, he doesn't stop, snapping his hips back and forth.

You're barely lucid by the time Suguru reaches his high, pulling out with just enough time to cum all over your stomach. He lets his cock rest against your cunt, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips and Satoru's.

"Come on, man," Satoru whines, pulling away from Suguru's kiss. "You got it on my arms. Where the hell did your aim go?"

"You're acting like you haven't swallowed it before," Suguru laughs, turning his attention back to you. "You okay, honey?"

As you pant from the come down, Satoru whines from behind you, reaching down to palm himself. "Aw, Suguru tired you out, huh? Are you too sleepy to let me have a turn too?"

"Surely she's not that mean," Suguru insists, cupping your cheek with his hands. For the first time, you notice the deep purple in his eyes, boring down at you. "Maybe we move her to the bedroom, first."

Suguru's quick to sweep you up into his arms, leaving Satoru behind in the living room. You have no idea what to say as you lay limp in Suguru's arms, struggling to process the past fifteen minutes.

Suguru lays you down in their bed, plush and soft under your body. "Seriously, are you okay to keep going, babe? We can let you sleep and finish up out there."

Satoru juts out his bottom lip into a pout, waiting for you to respond. You chew on the inside of your cheek—you weren't sure if you'd survive anything else. Nevertheless, you nod. "Yeah, I'll—I'll be okay."

Satoru pounces on you immediately, settling between your thighs and lining himself up with your hole. "What a good girl," Suguru muses, laying himself down next to you. "Just a little bit longer, yeah?"

Whatever that meant. The night goes on with you being passed back and forth between the two, who are eager to have their way with you. By the time they're done, leading you into the bathroom to have a bath, your body aches in ten different places and your mind is foggy with pleasure.

You end up sat on Satoru's lap in the bathtub, soaking up epsom salts and the smell of the vanilla scented candle Suguru lit. They do all the work for you, rubbing soap into your skin and drying you off and putting you in some of their clothes, as they do the same for each other.

For a moment, jealousy rips through you. They started dating around the same time as you and Uraume had, and they were so secure in their relationship they could let someone else in. Meanwhile, you couldn't even have friends while you were with Uraume.

You try to force them out of your mind, to free yourself from their shackles, but you can't. Even when you're laid down in between the two of them, wrapped up in their embraces as they whisper to each other about their days, you can't stop thinking about them.

"Girlfriend?" Suguru whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss on your earlobe. Feigning your sleep, all you can do is let out an agreeing hum, which seems to be enough for them.

Satoru gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek, and then on your nose, and then on your lips. "Pretty girl," he says, curling his arms around your hips. "Our pretty girl."

You squeeze your eyes shut and let sleep take you as quickly as it can.

—

Time passes, and you fall into their routine. At the same time, you pull back, unable to get your past out of your mind.

As far as you're aware, your boyfriends aren't necessarily aware of your regression, with them being so focused on each other all the time. They don't mind when you sleep on the edge of their bed, curled up into yourself rather than with them. They don't mind when you sit on the other side of the couch, away from their touch. They don't mind when you blow them off to go hang out with your friends.

At some point, you admit to yourself that what you're doing is wrong. You talk to your friends about it, who insist that this is all part of getting past Uraume and the trauma that came with them.

And then, you see Uraume at the grocery store.

They look worse for wear, as you've been told, their hair grown out almost to their shoulders and their face devoid of their usual makeup. They're staring at all the various types of freshly made jams, tapping their chin lightly as they think. They look as beautiful as always, and you begin to realize that the guilt you feel might actually just be you still being in love with them.

Stockholm syndrome, your friends had called it, an unhealthy attachment to someone who only ever hurt you. And yet, it takes everything in you to not walk up to them, to the point where you abandon your cart in the middle of the store and walk out.

Later that night, you're sitting on Satoru and Suguru's couch, flipping through a book that Suguru had recommended you. The two of them are deep into some anime Satoru loves, with Suguru's arm lazily dangled over Satoru's shoulder.

All night, Satoru has been staring at you instead of watching his show. Usually that's his sign that he wants to have sex, but he makes no moves on you, just watching.

In between episodes, he finally decides to speak.

"Will you come over here, [Name]?" he asks, catching both yours and Suguru's attention. "I feel so far away from you."

Both of them look expectantly at you, so you stand, ignoring the way your stomach churns at the thought. You miss the way Uraume would hold your hand while you watched Law & Order, running their fingers across your knuckles, not the way Satoru and Suguru held you like an object.

Nonetheless, you attempt to sit down next to Satoru, but he drags you into his lap before you can even reach the couch. His hands wrap around you and dig into your waist almost painfully, up until Suguru pinches his arm and he loosens up.

The next episode starts without another word, and you go back to reading your book.

—

The next day, you talk to Asahi, because she's the only one who would listen to you. You word vomit about how much you miss Uraume to the point where you start crying, sobbing about the way they loved you.

You tell her that Satoru and Suguru's love is too intense, that it feels more possessive than Uraume's ever did. That you feel like an object more than a partner.

Asahi listen and nods, holding your hands in hers as you speak. At some point, you let out a distraught wail and drop your head against the table, ending your tangent. Asahi thinks for a moment before speaking, trying to find the words to say.

"…This is what Uraume wants, probably," she finally says, and you look up at her, teary-eyed and miserable. "For you to miss them like this, to compare them to your next partners. But, to be honest, you look better now than you ever did with them."

Asahi does not tell you the words you want to hear, so you repeat the same process with your therapist. She gives you almost the same exact answer, so you go home and cry into your pillow.

You know they're right, objectively. You know that Uraume would bask in the glory of you crawling back to them, teary-eyed and apologetic, and they'd pretend like taking you back was some valiant act of love. They'd hold it over your head for months.

You ignore Suguru and Satoru's texts about having a movie night and you go to bed at 8:30, wanting to escape your feelings. You wake up the next morning to a frowny-face emoji from Satoru and a simple good night text from Suguru, so you force yourself to text them good morning and an apology for your early bedtime.

Shortly after that, while you're brushing your teeth, you get a call from Satoru.

"How's my beautiful girl doing?" he asks jubilantly, more excited than you'd ever heard him.

"Good," you say through your teeth brushing, your words barely comprehensible. "How are you?"

"Well rested and excited for the day. You work from home, right, babe?"

You spit your toothpaste out and time the mint taste from your mouth. "Yeah. Didn't you know that already? Why'd you ask?"

"I have an important all-day thing today and Suguru is taking his students on a field trip, so neither of us will be home until late," Satoru sing-songs. "Would ya mind comin' over and watching Maru?"

Maru, their cat, was the best part about dating them. She was a fat, old, fluffy white cat who loved to cuddle and watch TV, perfect to sit with all the time. The request was innocent enough to you, and you could spend more time pretending to be content with your relationship. You were hoping it would trick you into actually being content with it.

"Of course I'll come watch Miss Maru," you say in your baby voice, a smile blooming on your face. "I can be there in 30?"

"I'll come pick you up in 20."

Satoru, who is very famously late all the time, stays true to his word, picking you up 20 minutes later with a breakfast sandwich for you in hand. He yaps about how much he doesn't want to go to his meeting, how he'd rather stay at home with you and Maru, lazing about all day. You entertain his conversation as best you can, insisting he could do it another day, that you were never busy on weekends.

He raises an eyebrow at that, glancing over at you instead of paying attention to the road. You wait for him to speak, feeling a bit anxious when he laughs instead.

"You always have to hang out with your friends on the weekends," he utters, and you don't like the way he says 'friends.' "I feel like I never get to see you."

You frown. "We have a pretty normal schedule going on, no? I see you three or four times a week. We've only been dating for a few months."

Satoru lets out a long, breathy hum, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Suddenly, the car feels stuffy, and the lack of music makes you feel uncomfortable. He seems like he doesn't know what to say, eyes darting back and forth from you, the rearview mirror, and the road over and over again.

"I guess I'm just greedy," he says, and you know that spells the end of the conversation. Any prying you do will be shut down almost instantly, as if he's not at will to say what he wants. "Did you see the Emmys last night?"

Satoru drops you off outside of his apartment building and tells you to head up, handing you his keys with barely any hesitation. He demands a kiss on the cheek and then bids you adieu, leaving you to your own devices.

When you arrive at the apartment, Maru is sleeping on the couch spread-eagle. She looks as innocent as ever, and you rush over to sit with her. On the way, you notice something you've never seen before—a camera set up to watch the couch.

You try not to stare at it, preferring to stare at the kitty purring against your hands. You're sure it's just to watch Maru and nothing else, so you ignore it and the way it makes you feel sick.

—

Suguru gets home first, walking through the door at 4:30. He looks exhausted, running his hand through his hair as he drops his bookbag in the foyer and slips his shoes off.

"Welcome home," you say absentmindedly, keeping your focus on your computer screen. You've spent the whole day reading through submissions to the publishing house you work at, sifting through hundreds of terribly written romantasy novels and bad memoirs. "How's your day?"

Suguru sighs like the question is offensive to him. "High schoolers," he says, and that's about all you need to know. He comes over and stands behind you, snuggled up on the couch next to Maru. He leans over and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing kisses to your neck. "Maru didn't cause you any trouble?"

The feeling of his lips brushing against your neck makes you flinch. "She did nothing but lay there. She moved back and forth between right there and her tree," you say, opening your email and typing out yet another rejection letter. For a moment, Suguru lingers, watching you type out your classic better luck next time message, his breath hot on your neck.

"What do you want for dinner?" he finally asks, standing up. The question finally makes you break your focus on your laptop, and you turn to look at him.

"After I finish up my list for today I was planning on heading back to my place," you reply, and Suguru tilts his head as if to ask why. "Me and my friends watch the new Drag Race episode together every Thursday."

Suguru's lips dip into a frown. "Can't you just stay for dinner?" he asks, tilting his head. "Right after, you can leave."

You look back at your laptop, staring at the time. "Satoru will be back when?"

"Half an hour or so. He always leaves work a bit early."

Okay, so you'd easily be back by 7. "Sure, then. Sounds good to me. Make whatever you want."

Suguru disappears into a different area of the apartment and, a few minutes later, you hear the shower turn on. You finish looking through your last proposal at 5 on the dot, slamming your computer shut and pushing it off your lap. Maru is quick to climb into its spot, making herself at home in between your criss-crossed legs.

"Silly baby," you whisper, scratching behind her ears. The moment she gets comfortable, though, the front door swings open and scares her away. Satoru walks in holding a bag of takeout and donning a big smile, waving his other arm around excitedly.

"I'm home!" he sings, padding into the living room the moment he takes his shoes off. He's quick to discard the takeout bag onto the coffee table, turning and collapsing on top off you. You can't help but let out an oomph as Satoru lays his full weight on you, wrapping his arms around you excitedly.

You give him a couple of awkward pats on the back as he peppers your face with kisses, causing you to scrunch up your nose in discomfort. "Did'ya miss me, babe? You think about me all day?"

You draw in a sharp breath. "Of course. What else would I be doing?"

He pouts at your answer, shaking his head. "You're a terrible liar, y'know that?"

Satoru seems like he's going to say something else, but someone catches his eye behind you, and he's quick to get off of you and run towards him too. You turn around and watch Satoru slam into Suguru, giving him a big kiss on the lips. "Ahh, this is the best," he exclaims, turning back to you. "Both of my princesses waiting for me when I get home from work. Could things get any better than this?"

"If you showered and got the smell of office off of you," Suguru suggests, looking towards you. "Did you pick up dinner?"

"Obviously. All I want is to sit on the couch and eat food and watch a movie with you two, not watch you cut onions for an hour and a half," Satoru jests, slipping away from Suguru and skipping into his room.

Suguru comes over and picks your laptop up, slipping it into your bag before sitting down next to you and draping an arm around your shoulders. He's put on his usual baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants duo, so you decide to make yourself comfortable and lay on him. He's soft and comfortable, especially after a day of nonstop reading.

Suguru turns the TV on and begins flipping through streaming services, clicking through movie after movie. You watch quietly until Satoru comes back in, insisting he put on Titanic. Satoru sits on the other side of you, shoving himself into your side. Suguru puts on The Godfather instead, and you listen to the two of them bicker as usual.

Satoru passes out all the various food he got, and you settle for a box of plain noodles. At some point, Suguru gets you water, and you eat to your hearts content before snuggling back up to Suguru. "Are you playing favorites right now?" Satoru asks, and Suguru tells him to shut up in response. So, he settles for laying his head on your shoulder, mimicking the way you lay on Suguru.

It's a wonder you don't fall asleep faster. You're not even done eating for 20 minutes before you're passed out, and, when you wake up, Satoru and Suguru are watching Sex and the City, long done with the movie. You shoot up in a panic, feeling around for your phone.

"Good morning," Satoru chuckles, pulling you back into his chest. "Your friends said you can reschedule Drag Race. Seemed pretty thrilled to postpone, if you asked me."

You blink a couple of times, not loving the idea that they talked to your friends. Suguru is quick to hand you your phone—you'd slept until nine. You almost get angry, ask why Suguru didn't wake you up, but the slew of text messages prevents you from speaking. It's your friends, cheering for you and saying they hope you got laid.

You bite your tongue, relaxing into Satoru's chest as best you can. By ten, you're dismissing yourself into their room, rummaging through their drawers to find your things. You were suddenly glad they asked you to bring some stuff over after the first time you spent the night, though they "loved seeing you in their clothes." You're in bed by eleven—as you are every night—curled up on Satoru's side of the bed.

You don't know what time it is when they come in. They move about the room quietly, whispering to each other loud enough that they wake you up. You keep your eyes shut, hoping they'll quiet down once they realize that you're asleep asleep.

"The guy is absolutely unreasonable. I guess his daughter lives in the building, so he doesn't want to sell it," Satoru whispers, rolling his eyes. "I told Ichiji to dig something up on him, we'll see if he can even manage that. If not, I'll ask Megumi."

"Don't put too much of your energy into it," Suguru replies, and you can feel him sit on the other side of the bed. "There's other ways we can deal with it. We just need to be patient."

"I don't want to be patient," Satoru replies. You feel his hands curl under you as he moves you over a bit, like you're a ragdoll in his bed. "I like having a pretty girl in my bed."

—

You wake up the next morning, earlier than Suguru and Satoru as per usual, and Tokyo is covered in a thick blanket of snow. You spend at least five minutes staring out the kitchen window, distraught at the sight.

Your phone confirms your worst fears—insane train delays and cancellations, road closures, everything you don't to hear. At the same time, this event is sort of freeing, because it confirms to you that you probably need to break things off with Satoru and Suguru. You're terrified of being trapped here, forced to spend the whole day with their obnoxious doting.

The idea makes you laugh at yourself. You would spend hours sulking about Uraume's scarce attention, but, apparently, that was perfect for you. Or, maybe you'd grown too used to it. Whatever it may be, you probably just needed to spend the better part of the next two years single.

Suguru comes out shortly after your revelation, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. You prepare for him to come to you, rightfully so as he his arms around your middle and rests his head on your chin. "School's cancelled," he says, and the news has you hoping he'll still spend the day grading.

Satoru whines the whole morning about how he still has to go to work and how the corporate world is his worst nightmare. Suguru makes a comment about how that was his fault, and all he can do is march out the door while mumbling about how his life sucks.

The day is, surprisingly, pretty okay, despite the fact that the snow just won't stop coming down. Suguru teaches you how to play chess and watches you play Zelda on Satoru's Switch, content to just be in the same space as you. At some point during the day, Satoru talks to you through the camera on the mantle, whining about how jealous he was of the two of you.

You make peace with the fact that you'll probably spend another night there, and, when the snow stops around 4, you hope that the city can fix things up in time for you to go home early the next day. Then, you'll start planning your break-up speech, which will most likely be you blubbering about how you're just not ready for another relationship yet and how it's not fair to them that you still think about Uraume all the time.

Then, Satoru gets home and immediately starts undressing you, and you spend the evening in bed, being used between the two of them like a sex toy. It doesn't make you feel good mentally, though, physically, you might as well have been in heaven. Satoru babbles about how much he loves you, how good you make him feel, how perfect you fit into his and Suguru's relationship, while Suguru watches you with that foggy glint in his eyes, like his mind is elsewhere.

You go to bed and are gone before they wake up.

—

The next few days are excruciating. Satoru gets upset with you for leaving before saying goodbye, insisting it was dangerous for you to take the train when it was still so gross outside. You smooth it over as best you can, insisting that you just wanted to get home and use up the rest of your groceries before they went bad. You'd spent a lot of money on your breakfast bread (and Satoru tells you that he could buy ten more loaves for you next time).

You sit down with your friends, telling them your reasoning behind your choices and insisting you aren't going to go back to Uraume. You tell them you aren't really a person, just someone's other, and you don't like that. They have varying reactions—Izumi's upset, Shiori's indifferent, and Asahi is supportive—but, at the end of the night, they all understand.

After a few more hectic days at work, you go over to Satoru and Suguru's house for dinner. They clearly know something is up, as Suguru is dead silent while he makes chicken and Satoru is bent over his computer, agonizing about some work thing driving him crazy.

Dinner is delicious, and eating it makes you feel guilty. So, about halfway through, you clear your throat, looking up from your plate.

Satoru is already staring at you, and Suguru doesn't bother to pay attention to you, focusing on his food. "Listen, I—we need to talk," you start, tripping over your words.

"About what?" Satoru asks, and you don't like the desperate look in his eyes. "Did we do something wrong?"

"No, um, I just…don't think I'm ready for another relationship yet," you say, swallowing hard. "I mean, I was with Uraume for all of my young adult years, and I don't really feel like my own person yet. And I don't think it's fair to you guys to still be so hung up on my ex when you're giving me your all."

Suguru puts his silverware down neatly, finally looking up at you. Their attention is even more than usual right now, filling your lungs and sinking into your skin. Neither of them speak, so you're forced to keep rambling.

"You're both so sweet, and the best thing I could've asked for, but I'm clearly not ready enough. I just need more time. Maybe after I sort myself out, we can try again, or something. But, for now, I think it's best we break up."

There's barely a reaction to your words. Maybe you thought they liked you more than they actually do, from the way Satoru cracks a smile and Suguru just stares. You wait, mentally begging for one of them to say something.

And, of course, Suguru's the one to speak.

"I think that's sweet, dear."

You grimace. "What?"

"I think it's sweet that you think you have a choice," Suguru repeats, and the words almost make your jaw drop. Panic flares through your body, and all you can think is of course you dated a couple of psychos right after a sociopath. "But, if I recall, we told you we were in this for the long run, not a hook-up situation."

"Yes, obviously I remember," you say, curling your hands into fists on your lap. "But that wasn't a legally binding contract, or something. I'm a person, I have free will, and I'm breaking up with you right now."

"No, you're not," Satoru says, shaking his head. "We get a little possessive, you know? You can't just walk out on us like that without even trying to work on it."

Suguru nods in agreement, leaning his head on his hands. You can't find the words to say, failing to comprehend the situation you're in. "Okay, so you still think about Uraume. Whatever. After a while, once we've got you comfortable here, they'll barely be an after thought," Satoru continues, and his voice sounds….off. "You'll be too focused on loving us."

You stand abruptly from your chair, almost knocking it over in the process. "I think I need to go home," you state, stepping away from the table. Both of them just watch you, with Suguru's arrogant expression sending waves of anxiety through your body. "We can revisit this tomorrow, maybe, after you've both thought about it some more. We can sort it out."

You trip over yourself trying to get to the foyer, slipping on your tennis shoes instead of bending down to untie and retie them, like you usually do. You practically rip your bag off the usual hook, grabbing the doorknob and turning it as hard as you can.

You pause. You turn the doorknob some more, and you pause again. You look up at the door and come face to face with a lock you've never noticed before, the keyhole staring right back at you. You hear footsteps behind you, so you spin around, pressing your back against the door.

"Did you lock me in here?" you shriek, holding your bag to your chest. Suguru stands there with his arms crossed, looking like this is somehow inconveniencing him.

"We can revisit your privileges in a little bit. But, for now, it's best we spend some time sorting all this out," Suguru replies like he's your parent, holding his arm out to you sternly. "Give me the bag and take your shoes off, dear. We've set up a room for you that you can use to calm down and gather your bearings."

"What the fuck are you saying to me right now?" A million thoughts race through your head as you speak, and you begin rummaging through your bag for your phone. Sighing, like he expected you to do this, Suguru pulls it out of his pocket, holding it up. "Give that back, Suguru. You're don't own me, you can't do this. You need to let me leave."

"We don't need to let you do anything," comes Satoru's voice as he rounds the corner, leaning back on the couch behind him. "If you had just been good, you wouldn't be in this situation right now—this is your fault. Not ours."

"My fault? My fault?"

"Don't make this difficult, please," Suguru says, and, suddenly, they look scarier than they ever have before. Scarier than Uraume ever did before. You imagine their face right now, laughing at you as you fail worse than you ever have before. You can hear their voice saying you should've never left, and you wish they were here to drag you out of this situation like they always used to. "Go spend some time in your room, calm down a bit. I'll put your dinner in the fridge so you can finish it later."

You end at a standstill. The door is locked behind you, they stand like a wall in front of you. You can't think of anything, a solution for you to get yourself out of this. So, you just stand there, unmoving.

After a few moments, Suguru sighs, shaking his head. "Okay, okay. I guess we really can't be nice. We tried. Go ahead, Satoru."

Satoru, who is bigger and taller than the both of you, takes a step forward, and you open your mouth to scream. He's faster than you, though, and picks you up before you can, throwing you over his shoulder.

You punch and claw at his back, squirming to try and get him to drop you. Satoru's hold on you is far to strong for you to even make a dent on him, but you refuse to stop trying, to give up so easily. Suguru watches as he follows behind, looking almost disappointed in you.

Even back then, you knew it was a joke. Not a promise. She just wanted you to cheer up. She wasn’t agreeing to be a spinster with you. 

Still, when she called you with the news, something broke within you. 

“-He’s great! He’s so great!” Her voice crackles through the phone. “I’ve never met someone so kind and gentle. And his face! He’s so handsome. It was love at first sight.” 

She excitedly tells you how they met, how he’d tapped her shoulder in the library, asking if she knew where to find a book. She’d only seen a glimpse of his badge, his name, and then the rest was history. 

The more she talks, the more you sink. You could almost imagine what she looked like as she spoke. Her cheeks would glow with a warm pink. There would be a sparkle in her eye that makes her look younger. It was so selfish of you to drown in misery when she’s so happy. She’s your closest friend. She deserves better than someone so jaded. 

You’re glad she isn’t here in person. You don’t want her to see how bitter you feel. 

You close the hole in your heart with cement and faux delight. 

“He sounds great,” you hear yourself say. 

“When can I meet him?” 

❤︎

You’ve never seen someone so tall before. 

He wasn’t dressed to stand out. The simple, black coat drapes perfectly against his lean figure. His hair is coiled into an elegant bun, showcasing his neck and black earrings. His face is sharp and edged with beauty. 

Unmei tugs him over, looking at him with bright, glimmering eyes. Love. You can see the truth stamped right on her face. 

She slides into the seat across from you. He mirrors her. The whispers and noises within the cafe hush their voices a bit. 

And yet, you can hear his voice clearly. Low and gentle. 

“Did I say it right?” Geto asks right after he says your name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Unmei flushes. 

You spot the expensive watch hanging off his wrist as he reaches over to shake your hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. 

“Change,” his purple eyes murmur, “the end of it all.” 

The next hour passes with small talk and introductions. Unmei is the main talker, with Geto adding something in every so often. They work well together; you quietly observe, sipping on watered-down iced coffee. They fit. Pieces of a puzzle. Made for each other. 

They are soulmates, after all. 

“-It’s why I wanted you to meet him so bad,” Unmei tells you when you finally tune in again. “You two are so similar! It’d be nice to have all of us hang out sometime.” 

“That would be nice.” Geto nods along before directing his gaze at you. “Perhaps you could bring your own soulmate, too.” 

Your throat tightens. Unmei blanches. You can sense her about to redirect, but you figure it’s best if you bite the bullet now. 

“I don’t have one.” You tell him, forcing your voice to sound light. 

It takes a second for people to understand what you’re telling them–that you’re one of those. You wait for Geto to get that shameful look of pity everyone gets the moment you tell them. You’ve spent years like this, but it never stops stinging. 

No pity. No sympathy. 

He leans forward. His eyes sharpen. 

“Really?” 

You shrug, avoiding his gaze to sip on your coffee. You can still feel his eyes prickle on your skin even after Unmei changes the conversation. 

Hours later, she texts you: sooo what’d you think????

You write exactly what she wants to hear.

He’s perfect for you:) 

❤︎

Your second interaction with Geto happens without Unmei. 

Some days, you liked to wander: turn your brain off, stroll through random shops, admiring the various knick-knacks you could never justify the price enough to purchase. Today, your feet led you into a small bookstore. 

The door alerts to your presence with a cheery jingle. The man at the front spares you a lukewarm smile as you trek into his store. The smell of paper and ink greets your nose. It’s a cozy place. Quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling city just outside. 

One of your favorite authors recently published a new book. You weren’t sure if this bookstore had it, but you told yourself it wouldn’t hurt to check. You scanned the rows and shelves, drifting around the store to see if you could spot it. 

You were so distracted, you didn’t notice him until you quite literally walked into him. 

Hands reach out to steady you. Firm but gentle. You look up as a bundle of apologies is ready to spill from your lips. They die once you look into sharp purple eyes. 

Geto smiles when his hands release your shoulders. 

“Careful there.” 

You reanimate at his voice. You step back, mindful of how close he was. 

“Sorry,” you tell him, “I–I didn’t see you.” 

“I could tell.” His grin widens, and you sheepishly glance down. 

“This is a very welcome coincidence,” he continues, “I didn’t know you liked literature as well.” 

You helplessly shrug, trying not to show your discomfort. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Geto. He seemed like a nice person, but you were not ready at all for a one-on-one interaction with your friend’s new boyfriend. 

“Yeah,” you say when the silence gets too long, “I was just here to see if I could find something in particular…” Just then, your eyes drift up. 

You catch the title just then. It’s sitting quietly on the top shelf, leering at you. If only you’d found it sooner, it seems to goad at you; you wouldn’t be stuck in the most awkward situation in the world. 

Geto catches your gaze. He glances up at the book. 

“Is that the one?” He asks. 

You nod. He reaches up and lifts it from its respective spot. You expect him to hand it over immediately, but he seems more interested in examining the cover. 

“That sounds interesting.” He comments before handing it to you. “Would you recommend it?”

“I haven’t read it yet.” You admit. “But I’m a big fan of the author.” 

He hums in acknowledgement. That’s when you notice his own stash of books he had tucked under his arm. 

“You’re a horror fan?” You ask.

“Not particularly,” he admits. “I just wanted to branch out. My friend is a huge horror fan. These were mostly his recommendations.” 

You nod. “Unmei also likes horror. The genre at least.” You blab on. “Back when we were in high school, she’d force me to watch all sorts of slasher movies, and then she’d get so scared she’d beg me to let her sleep over.” 

On those days, you’d wake up to her snoring all over your pillows. Later, when you teased her about it, she’d laugh it off with red all over her face. 

Those days were tinged with nostalgia–back when it was just you and Unmei.  

You expect Geto to appreciate the snapshot of his soulmate’s past. That’s why he’s making small talk with you in the first place, right? To get to know her better.

Something flickers across his eyes. It was barely a moment before his face changed to deep sincerity, but you caught it. 

Boredom. 

You were stumped. How could someone be so blatantly uninterested in their soulmate? Or maybe it was you he couldn’t care less about? Or perhaps you just imagined it entirely? 

You feel like you should confront him about it. 

“Sorry,” you say instead, “ I need to head out now.” 

“Of course.” He immediately steps aside to let you pass through the cramped shelves. 

You expect that to be the end of it, but you can hear his footsteps behind you. 

You almost considered abandoning your book entirely, just so you could escape the bookstore. Instead, you flash a tense smile at the cashier, who beams back. 

“Find everything okay?” He asks. 

“We did,” Geto tells him cheerily. He stands right next to you. You can almost feel the coat he wears brush against your shoulder. 

Sometimes you wish you weren’t so nonconfrontational. Maybe you would’ve fought a bit more when Geto casually plucks the book from your loose grip, placing it on top of his own stack. 

“All together, please.” He tells the cashier, before he turns to you. “I got it.” 

“No, it’s fine.” You’re finally able to speak up. It’s too late. The man is already grabbing the bag and saying his regards to the worker behind the counter. He holds the door open for you. 

You meekly thank him. 

“I can pay you back.” You immediately say. 

Geto shakes his head. “It’s fine. Think of it as a gift.” He hands your book into your twitching hands. “A token to the start of a good friendship.” 

You had this bad habit of feeling indebted to someone if they paid for you, to the point where you would bend backwards for them if they asked. 

Something tells you that being in that situation with Geto is a terrible idea. 

You still accept, thanking him as sincerely as you can. 

“That reminds me.” Geto continues, pulling out his phone. “We should exchange contacts. We do share a favorite person after all. It would be wise to keep in touch.” He tells you with a steady grin. 

Your stomach flips. You don’t want to. You genuinely don’t want to. 

But the book is heavy in your hands. 

When Geto offers to walk you to the station, you finally gather the courage to decline. You thank him repeatedly for his kindness, slipping away before he can coax you into doing anything more. 

He was nothing but polite to you 

Kind even. 

But there’s something so horribly wrong about Geto Suguru. 

—

Geto and Unmei moved fast. 

They became an official couple one week after they met. Two months later, Unmei moved into his place. 

They moved fast, as most soulmates do. After all, if two people are destined to be together forever, why wait? Why not get the hard part over with first so you can enjoy forever more? 

At least, that’s how you saw it. 

The party was subdued but extremely upscale. Geto’s apartment was something else entirely. Luxurious floors with open spaces. When you looked outside the spotless glass, you could see the glimmering lights of the city far beneath your feet. 

You felt like you could fall through the glass and crash into those lights. You’d shatter into a million pieces, twinkling like the stars above. 

“Would you like another drink?” A voice asks. 

You glance up. Nanami Kento’s eyes remain on you. You suddenly remember what you were doing. 

You look down at your cup—just water. You were driving home tonight. “I’m fine, but thank you.” 

Nanami nods, taking a swing of his own cup. The amber-colored liquid swirled around the glass. 

Out of all of Geto’s friends, you think you liked Nanami the most. He was quiet, straightforward, polite, and a complete gentleman. He was one of you, you later found out—someone with un inked wrists. When Unmei dragged him across the room to ‘keep each other company’, you thought it was another one of her schemes. 

Well, it definitely still was her scheme, but you didn’t mind it too much. Nanami was good company. He was much more preferable to Geto’s other friend. The tall one with blue eyes and white hair. The one that kept staring at you like he knew something you didn’t. 

“So how do you know Geto?” You ask.

His lips thinned. You almost smile. 

“Old classmates.” He tells you. “He, along with a couple of others, was in the grade above me.” 

He seemed exhausted even thinking about it. You wonder how wild his upper-level students were.

“What about you and Unmei?” He asks after a bit. 

You hide your smile behind your glass. 

“We were practically raised together.” You start. “Attached at the hip, ever since we were kids.” 

You two used to plan your weddings together. She wanted her kid to marry yours. Every day you were at each other’s houses. Every weekend was slumber parties and sleepovers. 

When kids used to mock you for not having a name, she was the one who defended you. She was the one who chased off bullies and wiped away your tears. 

She’s been in your life all your life. You can’t remember a time she wasn’t. 

“Hm,” Nanami comments, “you two sound close.” 

“We are,” you agree, even when you can taste the uncertainty on your tongue.

She stood a little way away. Unmei looked borderline unrecognizable from the one you knew just a few months ago. Her hair was pushed up from her face, a stark contrast to the looser hairstyles she used to prefer. Her dress was sleek and glamorous. She probably wore hundreds of dollars on her wrist. She blended right into the elite group she was currently laughing with. 

Nanami keeps talking about something. You hum along, unable to take your eyes off of her. You keep watching until you can’t anymore. 

Sometime later, you find yourself on the balcony. The murmur of the crowd has dwindled behind you. It’s cold, you didn’t bring a jacket. There are goosebumps littered across your arms, but you don’t want to go inside yet. You’re not sure if you can continue looking at Unmei as she changes into something you can’t reach anymore. 

There it was again. That bitterness. The guilt washes it down all over again. 

Footsteps. Someone takes their place right next to you. At first, you think it’s Nanami’s attempt to restart the conversation. 

Geto leans over the railing, watching the city below. 

“It’s a pretty view, isn’t it?” He asks, voice gentle and soft. “It’s a huge reason why I bought this place.” 

You flex your fingers. The air suddenly gets colder. 

“Yeah.” You give, listening to the muted sounds inside. “It’s beautiful.” 

That’s the truth. The city lights twinkled and buzzed with life. Part of you wanted to sit there and count each one. You might be stuck there for years. 

“It’s even more beautiful in the mornings,” Geto continues, “there’s a gentle fog that covers the city, and the horizon is this pale pink. I really hope you see it one day.” 

You shift, a bit uncomfortable by the confession. You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by it. 

“You have a lovely home.” You finally say. “It’s very beautiful. I’m sure you're ecstatic to share this with Unmei.” 

A genuine smile lifts your face as you think back to the times Unmei gushed about meeting her future soulmate. She’d planned everything: the house, the car, the dog. You’d sat there quietly, listening, just happy to be in her life. 

“I bet you must have waited years to finally meet her.” You tell Geto as you admire the view. “You’re a very lucky man.” 

You expect a laugh. You expect a bashful acceptance. 

“I never wanted to meet my soulmate, initially.” 

For the first time in the conversation, you truly look at Geto. He’s staring right back. His purple eyes are darker in the dim lighting. They’re almost a muddy brown. 

“When I was younger, I had a grim opinion of soulmates.” His jaw tenses. You catch the movement. “The idea of having someone I was tied to by fate used to sicken me. It felt like control. It felt like something cosmic wrote out my future, and I was entirely helpless to it.” 

You can’t pull your eyes away. Whatever you were hearing, no matter how jarring, felt honest. You were drawn to it–a bee to a flower.

“I think now, I’ve mostly changed my mind.” He shrugs. “The bond isn’t truly control. Rather, it’s a path, guiding us to something far more desirable.” 

You blink. What could you say to that? 

Thankfully, Geto doesn’t let you fluster for long. He steps ever so slightly closer. It’s already too close, but you can’t move. You’re stuck in your spot. Paralyzed. 

“And, if anything.” He leans down, voice suddenly hushed. “I’d consider you the lucky one.” 

“Me?” 

He smiles. Amusement laces his lips. Long fingers reach for your arm. He slowly turns your hand, showing your blank, un-inked wrist. 

“Yes,” he tells you, “this is truly lucky.” 

You see it then. It flashes right across his purple eyes. 

Jealousy. 

It’s so hateful, it nearly makes you panic. You stumble back, out of his hold. The meeker part of you urges you to run. As far as you can. Run before–

“Are you alright?” 

Concerned sincerity etches across Geto’s face as he reaches out to stabilize you. Hands press on your shoulders before they slip away. 

You avert your gaze. 

“I’m fine.” It’s too sharp. You force yourself to soften your tone. “I guess it’s a little chilly out.” 

Geto barely wastes a moment. He slips off his jacket and settles it onto your shoulders before you can protest. His cologne clings to the leather. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon. 

“Keep it.” He stops you when you try to take it off. “Stay out here and enjoy the view a bit more. It’s truly breathtaking.” 

You watch as he slips back inside, playing the perfect host to his guests. The air is still cold, but you can finally breathe again. 

Later that night, Suguru gets on one knee and proposes. 

Unmei says yes. 

❤︎

There’s a way to reject the soul bond. You’ve seen it happen exactly once in your life. 

You were fourteen, watching from the stairs as your mom comforted your next-door neighbor. She was one of the unlucky ones. Her soul bond was filled with nothing but rage and possession. You could see the evidence of it on the bruises on her soft skin. The swelling black eye. 

She kept mumbling something of how sick she was to be tied to him. How she’d rather have no soulmate than one so vile. Your mother kept hushing her, insisting on calling the police, letting her stay the night. 

She’s not listening. It’s like she’s in a trance as she rises on two shaky feet, drifting towards the kitchen. You find yourself following. 

She pulls out a knife, and your mother screams when she digs into the ink on her own wrist. 

She stopped bleeding before the ambulance arrived. There’s a gigantic smile on her face the entire time she’s talking to the paramedics. 

You’ve never seen someone look so free before. 

❤︎

Planning a wedding takes time and money. It’s a good thing that Geto is swimming in the latter. 

The restaurant is upscale and practically swathed in elites. You feel very much out of place with your dress that probably wasn’t even worth the cheapest thing on the menu. Geto assured you plenty of times that this was his treat. Ever since the proposal, you’d been swamped in wedding preparations. This dinner was supposed to be a thank you. 

Tonight is a celebration of two people. 

You, the maid of honor. 

And Gojo, the best man. 

The two of you sat across from the engaged couple. Unmei was beaming the entire night. The ring was glistening on her finger. You’ve seen it all over her social media, not to mention the hours she spent gushing about how perfect the ring and the proposal was. 

But you remembered she hated cluster rings. She used to call them tacky. And she’s told you her perfect proposal over and over again. She’s always wanted it somewhere outdoors, where they’re alone and surrounded by nature. 

The complete opposite of how Suguru did it. 

“I can barely sleep.” Unmei gushes to you while the two men continue their own conversation. “The wedding is still two months away, but I can barely sleep.” 

You give her a comforting smile, taking another sip of your water. Dinner was already eaten, but you hadn’t tasted a single thing. It felt like cement sludge down your throat. 

“I bet that’s normal,” you say, “It’s your day. You should be excited.” 

“Most nights I just dream about flower arrangements.” She frowns before she sits up again. “Shit, the flowers. Please tell me you—“

“Don’t worry, I already booked the florist you were talking to,” you immediately coddle. “Everything is going to be perfect.” 

She visibly relaxes, leaning back in her seat. “Only because you’re here.” She tells you. “I only got this far ‘cuz of you, y'know that?” 

You smile. Her face brightens. 

“Oh!” She exclaims. “Are you planning on bringing anyone? Someone special?”

The two men gradually quieted. You arch your brow. 

“Probably not,” you say, “besides I’ll have a lot of stuff to do on the day of. I won’t have time for a date.” 

“What about bringing Nanami?” She pipes up. “I’m sure he can entertain himself while you’re busy.” 

Someone’s gaze stings your skin. You ignore it. 

“Why would I bring him?” 

She scoffs. 

“Don’t act like that.” She chides. “I saw how into you he was at the party. Please tell me you got his number.” 

You did. And you two text every now and then. Non-soulmates are rare, so even if you don’t end up in a relationship, it’s nice to keep in touch. 

“Nanami?” Geto echoes, finally making it known that he was eavesdropping. 

Unmei turns to him with a smile. “I introduced them a while ago. Aren’t they just perfect for each other?" 

‘Is she saying that just because neither of us has soulmates?’ You try not to feel so harshly about it. 

Geto smiles, but it lacks any warmth. 

Gojo turns to you. 

“I didn’t know you met Nanami?” He sports a wide grin. Almost like a sneer. 

You shrug. “We talked for a bit sometime back.” 

“I feel bad for you. I know I’m not supposed to talk crap about my juniors, but that guy is so boring.” He rolled his eyes. “He was even worse in high school, if you can believe that.” 

“I didn’t think he was all that bad.” You counter. 

“Ah, I get it.” Gojo nods. “You’re into the quiet, studious type of guy.” 

You shift in your seat. “It’s nothing that dramatic.” You respond. “He was just really nice.” 

“Hm.” Gojo takes a swing at his glass. “I guess I see wedding bells in your future, then.” 

“Satoru.” 

Geto’s voice is clipped. His eyes have shadows. Gojo puts his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ motion. There’s a lazy smile on his mouth. The atmosphere is so strained that even Unmei’s smile weakens. You take another sip of your water. You really wish you’d ordered something stronger. You had no idea tonight would be this tense. 

Unmei quickly turns the conversation to something else. She brings up more wedding plans. The rest of the night is spent ignoring the elephant in the room. 

Sometime after that, you and Gojo end up outside the restaurant, alone. Unmei and Geto are still sorting out the bill. You spot them lingering inside. Unmei is talking animatedly to a waitress. Geto is scrolling on his phone. 

You don’t have much in common with Gojo, and you’re happy to keep the silence as the two of you wait. He, however, doesn’t seem to share your thoughts. 

He leans over as you watch the engaged couple. 

“So, how long do you think they’ll last?” 

You glare up at him. He grins. 

“That’s not funny.” You immediately rebuff. “Why would you say that?” 

Satoru shrugs. 

“C’mon, you can’t say you’re the tiniest bit doubtful they’ll stay together, right?” 

You shake your head.

“They’re soulmates,” you respond. Their companionship was written in the stars from the start. They are a certainty. “It’s tradition.”

“Soulmates don’t always stay together,” Satoru says, “and Suguru isn’t one for tradition.” 

You say nothing. Gojo only takes it as a sign to pester you further. 

“Wanna make a bet with me?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“I’ll bet all the money I have that they’ll break up right before the wedding.” He thinks for a moment. “Maybe on the day of: Suguru loves being dramatic.” 

Your lips curl into a sneer. 

“I thought you were supposed to be Geto’s friend?” 

What kind of person bets their friend’s relationship will fail? 

“I am his friend,” Gojo argues. “I’m only saying this ‘cuz I know him so well. No offense to your bestie, but she’s not his type.” 

“No.” He tilts his head, studying you. “He prefers someone a bit more…docile.” 

You shift, trying to hide your discomfort underneath his gaze. 

“They’re coming out.” You watch as the couple shifts closer. “Please don’t tell them you’re betting they’ll break up.” 

Gojo laughs. 

“Aye, captain.” 

❤︎

Unmei stumbles into your apartment at 1 am. 

You’d forgotten you’d given her a spare key. When you woke up to muffled footsteps and murmurs, you thought someone was robbing you. The influx of emotions you felt as you rushed out with a baseball bat, only to discover your friend draped across your couch. 

Your very drunk friend draped across your couch. 

“Unmei?” You shake her shoulder. 

She barely moves. You do it again. She finally groans. 

“Hi.” She rasps out. Her throat is groggy with exhaustion and alcohol. 

“How…” You try to find the proper words. “How did you get here? Did you drive?” 

“Uber.” She murmurs. “Sorry…I…sorry. Didn’t–didn’t wanna go back. Didn’t wanna see him.” 

Her words are stilted, but you think you’re starting to get the picture. 

“Did you and Suguru get into a fight?” You ask gently. 

She laughs. It sounds bitter. 

“You have to talk, to fight.” She tells you, and you want to press her on that, but she’s talking again. 

“Suguru’s sad you don’t like him.” 

“What?” You lean closer so you can hear her properly. 

“Suguru–” She snuggles deeper into your couch”--he’s sad you don’t like him. Why do you not like him?” 

“I like him.” You try to smile. “Of course, I like him. Why wouldn’t I?” 

Her eyes are open. The way she stares at you makes your defenses weaken. 

“I don’t know, Mei.” You eventually respond. “He’s always rubbed me the wrong way. I…I just find him a little weird.” 

You want to tell her about the strange quips Geto’s made. The stuff Gojo said at the restaurant still eats at you. You want to tell her all of those things. 

Unmei doesn’t let you. 

She sits up so fast, you’re almost worried for her. You’re about to tell her to be more careful, but then you notice the look in her eyes. 

Spiteful. 

It’s directed solely at you. 

“Are you fucking joking right now?” She spits out. “My soulmate is going out of his way to be nice to you, but you’re calling him weird?” 

You have to back up as she stumbles to her feet. Her words are slurred and hard to decipher, but the intent is as clear as day. 

“He doesn’t even like you.” She rants. “Why would he? For fuck’s sake you don’t even have a soulmate, and now you’re calling mine weird? You’re jealous. You’ve always been jealous of me, and I’m so sick of doing charity work.” 

You blink. It feels like your heart’s been torn in two. 

“Unmei…?” It’s the only thing you can even think to say to someone who you thought loved you. Tears well in your eyes. 

Unmei knows how sensitive you are about soulmates. She always knew. As bad as your fights got in the past, it’s the one line she hadn’t crossed. 

Until now. 

She realizes what she said. Unmei slumps almost immediately, fully breaking down. 

“I’m sorry.” She blubbers. “I–I’m so sorry, I just.” 

You push aside your feelings as you always have to accommodate hers. She buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake. When you wrap your arms around her shoulders, she easily leans into your warmth. 

“I shouldn’t have said that.” She sobs. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” It’s not. “You’re having a bad day. Just sleep it off, okay? We can talk in the morning.” 

She says nothing as you leave her on the couch. Minutes later, you return with a blanket, gently settling it over her still body. 

“I saw him with another girl today.” 

You freeze. Unmei stares blankly at the wall. 

“He barely talks when we’re alone. He never talks. I don’t even know why I followed him, but I saw them together. They got into his car.” Her voice cracks. There’s a muted voice in the back of your head to comfort her. 

You don’t move. 

“I don’t know what they did. I…I just don’t know. That’s part of his job, right? Sometimes he takes his clients out to dinners and stuff.” 

She looks up at you. “And–and everything’s so different when we’re alone. He’s so much warmer with you. Whenever we plan something, he’s always asking if you want to come along too. I just don’t get it.” 

The apartment is quiet. Distinctly, you can hear a clock faintly ticking somewhere. 

“Do you think he’s cheating?” You ask. 

“Do you think he would?” Unmei asks right back. 

You think of being honest. You think about telling her you genuinely don’t know. Then, you remember the anger in her voice just minutes prior. The hurt is still fresh on your mind. It’s instinct to cower and placate after you’ve been burned so harshly. 

Just like always, you tell her exactly what she wants to hear. 

“Of course, he’s nice to me.” You hear yourself say. “He probably feels bad for me.” Because you have no soulmate.

“Unmei, you don’t see the way he looks at you.” Does he ever look at her? 

“He can’t stop talking about you.” You can’t remember a single conversation you and Geto had about her. 

“He loves you. I’m sure of it.” Are you? 

A shy smile creeps up on her face. You can feel yourself shatter. 

“Really?” She asks. 

You settle beside her, squeezing her fingers. 

“Trust me.” Words feel like sand on your tongue. “You are going to make each other so happy.” 

She’s smiling. You think you’re smiling too, but you’re not sure of anything anymore. 

She closes her eyes again. You sit there for a few minutes. When you think she’s asleep, you get up to leave, but her voice stops you. 

“I thought she was you.” 

“You what?” You ask. 

She nuzzles the blanket closer to her face. 

“The girl. I thought she was you, but she wasn’t. She looked like you. It was the weirdest thing.” 

You think she’s about to say more. She doesn’t. 

The next day, Unmei acts as if nothing had happened. She’s laughing and talking during breakfast. You still think about what she said, hours after she left. 

❤︎

The week before the wedding, you finally decide you no longer want to be friends with Unmei. 

You don’t hate her, you could never hate her, but it’s clear you might’ve valued your friendship differently than she did. 

You don’t think you want to boycott the wedding entirely. It’d taken months to plan. The money was already spent. You don’t want to ruin her big day. 

But you don’t think you’ll be taking her calls as frequently. You don’t think you’ll drop everything for her anymore. 

For now, you just want a bit of distance. 

Now that you’ve decided to no longer prioritize her, your life is slowly becoming easier. Instead of doing everything yourself, you’re delegating tasks to the other bridesmaids. You actually make time for yourself instead of fizzing with nerves by the phone, wondering when she’ll call you to her side. 

You can finally breathe again. 

But old habits die hard.  

I need you. Please come.

Unmei texting you in the middle of the night wasn’t a huge issue. But she never sends you this type of message. Formal, short, panicked. 

You stare at the words, reading them over and over again. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again. 

But what if she needed you? 

You’ve been to Suguru’s apartment a few times after the party. It was mostly to pick stuff up or help Unmei. There’s usually a lively atmosphere with warm lights. 

Tonight, as you tap on the door, you can’t help but notice how cold the atmosphere feels. 

He doesn’t leave you waiting. Geto opens the door with a pleasant smile on his face. His grin widens when he locks eyes with you. 

“Come in.” Geto pulls the door back. 

You hesitate, but eventually you step in. Not much has changed since your last visit. There are fresh flowers in a vase. Something’s cooking in the kitchen. Still, the apartment feels emptier, somehow. 

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Geto smiles. “This is a pleasant surprise.” 

You give an awkward smile, shifting your weight. 

“I’m sorry, I won’t be here for long,” you tell him before shifting your gaze to the bedroom, “Is she in there?” 

Geto tilts his head. 

“Are you looking for Unmei?” He slowly asks. 

When you nod, he shakes his head. 

“She headed out for her bachelorette party hours ago.” 

For a moment, you thought you misheard him. 

“Her what?” 

“Her bachelorette party. I’m so sorry, I assumed you were with her. It’s why I was surprised you showed up.” He admits sheepishly. 

“Bachelorette party.” You repeat. 

She told you she didn’t want a bachelorette party. She called it a cliché. And now, when you decide to put your feelings aside and reach out, you find out she left you in the fucking dust as she enjoys her night. 

You were so fucking done with her. 

“Right.” Your throat feels tight. “Ok, then…I should go.” 

A firm hand on your shoulder stops you from walking out the door. Geto stares at you with an empathic frown on his face. 

“You shouldn’t leave like this.” He urges. 

You try to pull away. His grip barely budges. 

“Geto, it’s fine–” 

“You should eat something at least. It’d be rude to send you away after you’ve been such a good friend to my fiancé.” 

That stung even though you know he didn’t mean it like that. 

“Okay.” You relent. “Just for a bit.” 

He smiles. 

“Oh, and call me Suguru from now on.” He suggests. “I think we’re close enough to drop the formalities, right?” 

Suguru manages to get you to sit at the dining table. It was already set for two. A little while later, he comes back with two plates and a bottle of wine. 

The food smelled delicious, but it tasted like ash in your mouth. You couldn’t find it within yourself to enjoy it. Betrayal made everything taste like nothing. 

You don’t consider yourself a drinker, but Geto manages to refill your glass twice throughout the night. 

Eventually, Suguru acknowledges the elephant in the room. 

“Did you two fight?” 

That actually made you laugh. It’s harsh and bitter. You gulp down the last of your wine. 

“No,” you say, “I just didn’t fall to her feet this one time.”

That’s all you were for her. Not a friend. Not a companion. You were just some pet she could keep at her side. Bark when she said bark. Sit when she said sit. Roll over when she said. She was treating you like a dog who forgot a trick or two. You feel so pathetic. 

You’re so upset, you have to stand up. Suguru only watches you pace back and forth. 

“I’ve put up with her bullshit for months, y’know?” You don’t think you’re talking to him at all. You’re just ranting. “Whatever she wanted, I got her. I’ve spent hundreds of hours planning her perfect day with her. And yet, the one time I give an opinion, she immediately blows up at me and–and says all this awful shit, and I have to forgive her.” 

Suguru rises with you, blocking your path. You look up at him. He’s blurry from all the tears in your eyes. 

“She’s stressed with the wedding,” he tries to console. “I’m sure she isn’t trying to do any harm.”

You shake your head. Somehow, you find yourself sitting on the sofa. Suguru’s joined you. You can still taste the wine on your tongue. You’re drunk. You’re erratic. You’ve stopped giving a fuck. 

“What about the stress she’s putting me under?” You argue back. “I tried to be a good friend to her, and she constantly treats me like garbage. And it’s all because I don’t have a soulmate? When has that ever mattered for her?” 

Unmei had always protected you from anyone who mocked you for being incomplete. Other. She was your shield. 

You can still remember her voice ringing through your head. The hatred. You’ve always been jealous of me, and I’m so sick of doing charity work. 

You bury your face in your hands. 

“All I ever wanted to do was be there for her.” You sob into your fingers. “Why is she shutting me out like this?” 

You wanted to go back to how things were months ago. Back when you had someone so close, it felt like having a sister. Back before–

Suguru gathers your limp form in his arms. The scent of sandalwood and cinnamon overwhelms your senses. 

“You poor thing,” he coos, and you melt into his calming words because you’ve never felt more alone in your life. “It must have been so very hard on you.” 

You don’t know how long you sit there, snuggled into his chest, crying your heart out. It feels like minutes pass before your tears stop flowing, and your breathing slows down. 

He pulls you away from his chest. You follow. You’re still heartbroken, but now you’re embarrassed for crying on your best friend’s fiancé’s shoulder. You look up, opening your mouth to apologize. 

Suguru’s lips meet yours. 

It’s barely a brush. You feel his fingers caress your cheek before you pull back. 

“What are you–” your voice dies in your throat “What–” 

“You want to feel better, don’t you?” He asks, voice terrifyingly gentle. “I can help with that.” 

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. When he tries to touch you again, you jump up. 

“I didn’t…I never…” Your mind is spinning. You don’t know what to say. 

“She’s your soulmate.” It’s the only thing you can think to say. “How–how could you think of doing that to your…”

Suguru tilts his head. 

“We both know how stubborn she can get.” He speaks slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. “Look at how much you do for her. You are constantly bending over backwards. Aren’t you tired of doing all this charity work? Don’t you want someone else to take care of you for a change?” 

Something clicks in your mind. 

Charity Work. Unmei’s words, but that didn’t sound like her at all. 

It sounded more like something Geto Suguru would say. 

“It’s you.” Something cold splashes across your spine. “You’ve been putting a wedge between Unmei and me for months.” 

He’s tried separating you from her as soon as he walked into Unmei’s life. All this time, he was speaking cruelties into her ear about you, manipulating her, turning her against you. 

And Unmei fell for it because she thought her soulmate could never hurt her. 

Suguru stands up. His smile is gone. You’ve never seen him like this before. You’ve seen him upset, bored, amused. This is different. 

Every emotion on his face is gone. It’s like he’s stone. 

He calls your name. It’s a warning. You don’t heed it. 

“No, no,” you hiss out, “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but I’d never break her heart like this, no matter how angry I am at her. I’m not like you.” 

You start for the door. You needed to find Unmei. Fuck the petty fight. Fuck everything. You needed to find her and explain everything to her so that things could return to normal. 

You never make it to the door. 

There’s a harsh grip on your wrist. Before you can even struggle, you’re flung back against the couch. You collapse on top of the stiff pillows. 

Suguru’s quick to cage you in. Within moments, he’s trapped you underneath him. A hand reaches up to trap both of your wrists. His body is right in between your legs, pressing himself right up to you. 

You kick. You scream. A hand clamps down on your mouth. 

Suguru waits patiently as your rebellion tapers out. You lie underneath him, panting and utterly defeated. 

A tear trickles down your cheek. He wipes it away, adoration at his fingertips. It makes you sick. 

“I really wanted our first time to be romantic.” He sighs, genuinely sounding disappointed. “I spent the entire day planning our little date. And then you had to get all hysterical.” He clicks his tongue. 

“I think you’re spending a bit too much time with my fiancé, Dear.” 

You flinch at his words. He grins. 

“At the same time, I can’t say I’m not happy with how the night ended.” He releases your mouth. You prepare to yell again. “You can scream if you want to, dear. I’m sure you’d like the whole floor coming by to watch me fuck you. I don’t mind an audience.” 

Horror rushes down your body. 

“What do you mean?” Suguru says nothing, leaning back to release his tie. “Geto-Suguru,” you beg. “You can’t really mean that. You can’t do this. What about Unmei? What about your soulmate?” 

“I thought I told you this already.” He wraps the tie securely around your wrist before considering you. 

“Soulmates are paths, guiding us to our true destination.” 

He presses his forehead to yours. You lay there, utterly helpless, staring into his purple eyes. 

“Through her, I was able to find my true other half.” He confesses. “Someone that perfectly fits me.” 

If he were another man, if he had another name, you might have fallen in love right there. 

But this man has your friend’s name written on his wrist, and it makes you want to vanish into the Earth. 

He rises back up with a grin. 

“What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.” 

You’re shaking your head as he reaches down for your shirt. It’s pulled off of you within moments, revealing your bare flesh. Your skin trembles against his fingers as he explores the skin on your stomach, pushing his hand up until it reaches the bottom of your bra. 

Your tits are exposed to the cold air as he grabs them. Curious. Exploring. Nausea builds in your stomach. 

“You should relax, love.” He urges as his hand travels down. “You could make yourself sick from all that crying.” 

He acts as if he cares for you, even when you know he couldn’t care less. You can feel his heat pressing up against your thigh. It’s a blunt foreshadowing of his true desires. 

The silk against your wrists tightens every time you move. The wine isn’t helping either. You feel sluggish, almost feverish. You lie there, completely limp, watching as he picks at your pants. They don’t have much of a fight before he’s dragging them off your body completely, leaving you with just your cotton panties. 

The cold settles on your bare thighs. A large hand settles on your upper leg. He squeezes. You jolt. 

Suguru’s kissing you again. It’s harsher than the first time. More teeth, like he intends to swallow you whole. He squeezes your chin, keeping you in place so he can continue to devour you. For a moment, you debate biting his tongue off, before you quickly bat it away. The thought of him getting violent, even worse, terrifies you. 

But how could he get worse? 

He pulls away with a satisfied sigh. The hand on your thigh lifts to your clothed slit. You don’t realize you’re wet until his fingers slip underneath your panties. 

There’s a slight hitch in his breathing. 

“Is this for me?” You can practically taste the victory in his voice. “How sweet.” 

A few moments later, your panties are torn away, too. Your legs are tangled with the thin cloth, leaving you utterly defenseless as he spreads your thighs apart. 

“No,” you’re telling him. “Don’t–No, no–” 

He hushes you with a quiet whisper, and then his mouth is on your pussy. 

Your thighs immediately fall onto his shoulders as he ate you out. There was a rhythm to it. His tongue lapped at your slit before curling at your clit. Immediately, you reacted. Your thighs flexed, threatening to clamp over his head. Something hot coiled in your belly as he sucked on your pussy. 

Your protests eventually gave way to sharp gasps and whines as he continued to tongue-fuck you. You think you’re still crying, but its interrupted by another toe-curling mewl. You don’t have the ability to hold them in. They force themselves past your lips and into the frigid air. You could feel Suguru smile against your clit. You’re so wet you’re probably dripping all over the couch, but you think Suguru couldn’t care less. 

He lifts you up by the hips. You let out a yelp as he crams his tongue into your hole, drinking the entirety of you. 

“That’s it.” His voice is muffled by your pussy.  It’s slurred. Drunk. “Lemme’ hear you.” 

You obey, helpless to do anything else. Your mind is swirling with self-hatred as you feel yourself approaching the edge. You can’t do anything to stop it. Your hips move by themselves. Your pussy clenches. 

Your orgasm was a tiny hitch before you completely came apart. Suguru keeps you there, latched onto your clit like a man starved, until you finally come down from your high. 

You lay there, panting, completely spent. Suguru rises from his spot in between your legs. He wipes at his face, never taking his eyes off of you. 

The kiss he gives you is terrifyingly soft. Almost sweet. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He gently holds your chin like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. 

If you closed your eyes, you could pretend it’s anyone else. Not Suguru. Not your friend’s fiancé. Not her soulmate. 

But Suguru doesn’t care about you enough to let you have that fantasy. 

“Look at me.” 

His voice is too soft to be demanding, but the order is clear from his tone. 

Slowly, your eyes drift back open. 

Suguru stands over you as if this were his rightful place. You can see his cock, fully unfurled from his pants. The mushroom tip has a bead of glistening, white pre-cum as he slowly aligns it to your battered pussy. 

You think the worst part is his eyes. 

Soft. Gentle. He stares at you the way no one else has. 

Love. 

You want to cry again, but you think you’ve run out of tears. 

His nonchalant demeanor is cracked. His pupils are flared with lust. He grunts when he slides his swollen tip across your folds. Pussy juice is smeared all over his cock as he does it again and again. 

“I’ve waited so long for this.” He sighs, and you don’t think he’s talking to you. “No one is taking this away from me.” 

Not even you. 

You should be grateful he cares enough to be gentle. His cock is huge, big enough to split you at the seams if he wanted to. You still he lowers himself into your hole. Immediately, your walls flex, squeezing his cock. 

Suguru growls and bits his lip. It’s clear whatever control he has left, he’s only holding it by a hair. 

It’s almost a relief when he fully sheathes himself inside you. He nearly collapses, face ducking into the crook of your neck. Your toes curl when he hits a spongy spot inside of you that nearly makes you see stars. 

“Fuck.” He hisses, voice sharp. “That’s it. That’s it. Just take it.” 

It’s an unsteady pace. Brutal, almost mind-breaking as he continues to fuck himself into you. You can hear his ragged breathing in your ear as he drives himself deeper and deeper into your cunt. You can barely keep up with the motions. Your thighs shake with the momentum. 

You think you’re saying something, and then your mind is wiped clean with another thrust. It’s an endless cycle of torturous pleasure. 

“Suguru–I–I can’t.” You’re blabbering. “I can’t, I just can’t–” 

“You can.” He urges back, fingers reaching down to rub your clit. You arch, back lifting up from the pillows. “I know you can, darling. Look at that. Look at you. Look at how well you take me.” 

“This was how it was always meant to be.” You can’t decipher the tone of his words. Your mind is too preoccupied with the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. “You were practically made for me.” A broken wail passes out from your lips. He laughs. 

At this point, you think he’s too far gone to even know what he’s saying. 

“I love you so much, darling.” He leans back into your neck, biting down on the flesh. “No one can take you away from me. You are all for me.” 

At least, you hope that’s the case. You can’t bear to think his words have a semblance of intent. 

Your mind goes white as you cum on his cock. Your eyes roll back, your back arches up like a bitch in heat as you fall off the edge. Your pussy milks him, clamping down hard as you ride your high. 

There’s a moan in your ear before something hot pumps into your pussy, painting your insides with white. There’s so much, even with his dick still plugging your cunt, some still manages to leak out, dripping down your ass. 

He takes a shaky breath, and then he’s kissing you again. That same delicate touch he loves to take after he breaks you. You can taste the festering love through his lips and tongue. You let him, too exhausted to fight back. 

You think he’s saying something. You can’t hear him over the throbbing in your head. The tone he uses is soft as lips press against your temple. 

And then, his cock slips out of your ragged cunt before slamming back in all over again. 

❤︎

Mei<3 Missed Call(23)

‘Where are you’ 

‘Where are you’ 

‘Please dont do this to me’ 

‘I’m begging you’ 

‘I love you so much’

‘I’m sorry for everything I’ve done’ 

‘Plase don’t do this to me’

‘He’s my soulmate, why would you take him from me’ 

‘Please don’t do this to me’

…

‘You’re just a selfish slut. Take him then. See if I care.’ 

Ever since you woke up, all you could do was stare at Unmei’s texts. You’ve read them over and over. 

The words never change. Each line cuts you deeper than before.

You’re no longer on the sofa. Sometime last night, Suguru must have moved you. You sit up on a luxurious king-sized bed with silk sheets. Your body is aching and sore. There are marks all over your body. 

The man who made them sleeps peacefully right next to you. 

You’re still naked. It hurts to move. All what you can do is read Unmei’s texts over and over as you wipe away the sharp tears trickling down your cheek. 

The curtains of Suguru’s bedroom are open. It’s early morning. The beginnings of a sunrise creep over the horizon. Buildings are obscured by a light fog, and you can barely make out the outline of the city. The sky is illuminated with pinks and light oranges. It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t notice he’s awake until Suguru’s muscled chest presses against your back. You flinch as his head settles into the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” He murmurs against your skin. “It’s a beautiful view. You’ll get to see this every day, from now on.” 

You don’t bother batting him away. You just stare down at your phone. There’s no new message from Unmei. She blocked you hours ago. 

Fingers pluck your phone from your loose grip. Suguru adjusts himself, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sifts through her panicked messages. He clicks his tongue. 

“Never expected anything more from her.” He sighs before he tosses the phone in the mess of blankets. He kisses your neck. “She’ll probably come by today. Hopefully, she’ll move out without much of an issue.” He remarks casually. Dully. Complete disinterest. 

Why? You want to ask him. Why you? Why would he–why would anyone–hate you enough to do this? 

But then, you remember the look of love he gave you as he rammed his cock deeper. You don’t know how you’d be able to hold yourself together if you saw that again. 

For the sake of your sanity, you ask: 

“What did you tell her?” 

Suguru’s fingers curl around your stomach. You can hear the slightest hint of irritation in his breath. 

“Nothing.” He eventually confesses. You want to yell at him, call him a liar. You don’t get the chance. 

“She must have felt the bond sever.” 

You notice it, just then. 

The wrappings on his wrist. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you grab at it. Suguru lets you unravel his work, silently watching each layer of gauze drop away. 

It’s ugly. The skin is raised and irritated. It will probably leave behind a scar. 

Not a single trace of Unmei’s name is left on Suguru’s skin. 

You want to scream, but your voice is frozen in your throat. 

There’s another kiss on your cheek. Suguru grins. 

“See?” He tells you adoringly, lovingly. 

You can barely hide your smile at how she rolled her eyes at the mention of her fellow packmate.

“It’s why I wanted to talk to you, actually.” She shifts a little closer. Her eyes are soft from the lack of sleep as she gazes at you. “I heard you’re part of a matchmaking program.”

You nod. She glances away. Shoko almost looks sheepish.

“I was wondering if we’d be able to join.”

A smile stretches across your face.

“Of course! What time do you think you could come in?”

☕︎

You didn’t expect Shoko to present as Alpha.

You two were childhood friends. Being older than her, it was more like you were a babysitter–not that you minded the role. Shoko was a quiet kid even in her younger years. You liked that she often trailed behind you, like your own shadow. It was flattering in its own way. You never had any siblings, so you often regaled her as your younger sister.

You thought she’d be a beta like you. Or maybe even omega. Alpha was the last designation you would’ve ever given a girl like her. Just like you, she had two beta parents–being anything else was close to impossible.

But, looking back, the signs were always there.

The scuffle wasn’t the worst you’d ever seen. Fights are normal, especially for kids around your age. Emotions run high, sometimes. If left unsupervised, children don’t usually have healthy outlets.

Shoko wasn’t a kid you’d ever picture getting into a fight, yet the evidence was clear. It looked worse than it actually was. You can see remnants of dirt clinging to her youthful cheeks from when she took the fall. Her clothes were lightly scraped, as was the skin on her knees. It was nothing a Band-Aid couldn’t fix.

You hadn’t seen what happened. You had been on the other side of the playground when the yelling happened. Shoko barely struggled when you pulled the kids apart. The other girl was crying. Shoko wasn’t. Being the older one, you decided it was best to end the day right then and dragged Shoko home.

The girl was always quiet, but that walk was like talking to stone. She never budged from her clamped lips and tightened fists, no matter how hard you prodded. A part of you understood why. She was probably resigning herself to her parents’ beratement. She didn’t need a lecture from you, too.

Just when you were about to give up completely, she gave in.

“She said she was your friend.” She told you quietly.

“The girl with pigtails?” You asked

Shoko nodded. “She called you her friend, even though you’re mine.”

You glanced down at her hand, tightly clasped on your own.

“I can be both of your friends.” You gently tried to suggest.

She shook her head. Her grip tightens.

“No.” She said with a finality you’ve never seen in a child before. “Only mine.”

☕︎

Despite being well into the modern era, alpha-and-omega matchmaking programs haven’t lost popularity. It’s become a multibillion-dollar industry. Nowadays, instead of being sold off for political power, omegas and alphas can simply go to their local agency to find their mates.

Obviously, betas like you aren’t permitted to join, but you are highly encouraged to become matchmakers. Neutral scents are helpful when it comes to finding alpha-omega pairs. It’s comforting to omegas and non-threatening to alphas. Betas can not only act as matchmakers but also as barriers if things go awry.

You highly doubt that you’d need to be the latter, however, for this pack.

They arrive ten minutes before the official appointment. You knew Shoko had something to do with that because you doubt Satoru ever lost his lazy streak. Having no client, you decide to take them in early.

Satoru’s just as chatty since the days from highschool. He trails behind you as you lead the group to your office, asking about your day and then telling you about his. You didn’t think he’d be a teacher, but he always managed to surprise you.

Suguru is reserved but friendly. He greets you after Satoru’s tight hug, giving one of his own. You heard he now heads a Buddhist temple, though you never considered him the religious type. It’s hard to imagine him in traditional clothes after seeing him in casual wear and a high school uniform for so long.

“Didn’t expect you to be part of a breeding program.” Satoru comments after you’ve shuffled them into your office. He leans in, probably to inhale your scent again. They’ve all done that once or twice. Satoru’s just not as subtle as the other two.

It’s an alpha thing. Omegas and alphas are different from betas. Unlike you, they rely more on pheromones to guide them around the world. He hasn’t seen you in a while; it’s normal to see if your scent has changed.

“We try not to call ourselves that.” You lightly respond, settling behind your office. “Trust me, it’s not as intense. All we do today is look over what you want in a mate—basic preferences. Then I can pair you up with whoever fits best. What you do after is entirely up to you.”

It’s a bad joke. Only Satoru smiles.

You clear your throat.

“So, did you have anything in mind?”

They exchange glances. You, completely used to losing alphas, continue briskly.

“We’ll start with broad strokes,” you tell them. “Obviously, you want a mate who’s open to a pack, right?”

“Yes.” Shoko agrees.

You type it across your keyboard. Alpha packs do a lot better in the program compared to single alphas. Often, your omega clients specifically requested them. You doubted you would have any trouble finding a match for these three.

“Perfect. Any age preference? Younger, older—“

“—older.” Satoru interrupts. Suguru elbows him, but Satoru doesn’t waver. “Definitely older.”

Suguru and Shoko don’t look particularly happy at his intrusion, but nobody objects. You add it to their profile.

“Any particular scents?” You ask.

“Not too sweet,” Suguru says. “Something more neutral.”

Satoru doesn’t look too interested in this topic. “What he says.”

Shoko is more concrete with her answer.

“Earl Grey.”

You try not to react to that, typing it into their profile with little hesitation.

“I think that’s enough for now.” You hurry along. “Do you have any education or work expectations?”

“Not particularly,” Shoko responds. “I think we’re looking more for a homemaker type– someone willing to settle down for pups.”

You had a feeling. Alpha packs are more interested in being providers, caring for their omega mate who is cuddled in a nest. Most omegas feel the same way. It’s a fairly symbiotic relationship.

“What about you?” Satoru asks.

You look up at him.

“Pardon?”

“Are you thinking of settling down? Having kids and all that?” He continues.

“Satoru.” Suguru chastises, but there’s nothing sharp in his voice. Shoko says nothing. Her warm, honey eyes always felt piercing. You always chalked it up to yet another alphan trait.

You shrug, thinking nothing of the question.

“Quit my job for a mate, you mean?” You ask before you shake your head. “I don’t think I could. I think I’d only be able to do it for a specific person, but I don’t think a person like that exists.”

Besides, you love your job. You love helping people find matches and life-long mates. Why would you ever give that up for children?

“But if that person did exist–”

“Satoru.” You interrupt. “We’re looking for a match for you, not for me.”

He huffs, leaning back in his seat, almost like a scolded child.

“Fine.” It almost sounds like a whine. You try not to laugh.

The rest of the appointment proceeds smoothly. Half an hour later, you’re able to gather additional specifications and preferences. Unlike the first few questions, the three are far more lax with their answers. Typically, after the first session, you’re able to put together matches off the top of your head. For whatever reason, these three were far too vague for you to get a clear idea.

“I think I can figure things out from here.” You tell them when the hour is up. “Would you be ready to meet your potential matches in a week or so?”

Suguru genuinely looks surprised. “I didn’t realize it would be so quick.”

“It’s more for trial than anything else.” You respond. “Don’t feel pressured if you aren’t ready.”

“That’s fine,” Shoko tells you. “Will you be with us when we meet them?”

“Of course not.” You assure. “I’ll just give you their profile. Whatever happens next is entirely up to you.”

You expect her to look relieved. She says nothing. None of them do.

“In any case, it was really nice seeing you three again!” You say when you lead them out to the door. “I wonder why we never met up after high school?”

Satoru frowns as he returns your hug. “It’s ‘cuz you practically ran away from us, remember?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call graduating and moving to college ‘running away’. Still, you laugh.

“I’ll try not to do that from now on.” You tell him. “You still have my number, right?”

Satoru’s still whining as you walk them through shiny glass doors. Suguru offers to buy you lunch, to which you decline. You had another client in a few minutes.

“One more thing before you go.” You call out just before they leave. “I’m a little curious: what made you decide to join the program?”

The three look at eachother. A secret conversation only alphas could ever have.

“We got tired of waiting,” Suguru answers.

Later, you realize that isn’t much of an answer.

☕︎

The three weren’t always this close. You could distinctly remember a time Shoko hated the other two.

Your community was mostly betas, with a small number of omegas. Until then, Shoko lived her school life as the sole alpha for miles around. Being her senior, you constantly worried about her. Alphas weren’t betas. There would always be a missing link between the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to accommodate her. As much as Shoko assured you otherwise, you knew a part of her would always feel that void.

And then, Gojo and Geto came along.

Both alphas. Both in the same year as Shoko. They exemplified the look of Alpha. Both of them towered well over the rest of their peers, already well over six feet despite their ages. When they smiled, you could see glimpses of silvery-white fangs. Being the only alphas in the entire grade, they were extremely interested in Shoko. You were ecstatic, happy to see your friend finally make friends with others.

Shoko was less than enthusiastic.

You didn’t understand why she wasn’t perceptive towards them. When they tried to extend their friendship, she raised her hackles, and her eyes would darken. She was well past her days getting into fights on the playground, but you were sure she was close to snapping on certain occasions.

Gojo and Geto continued to hover around her, despite her hostility. Since you were her friend, they hovered around you, too.

You tried to be a bridge for the three. Shoko hardly ever rejected your invitations to hang out. When the other two tagged along, that fact never changed, but she never seemed happy about it. She’d latch onto your arm, baring her teeth when the other two got a bit too close for her liking. You stopped initiating those hangouts as her clinginess often got far too debilitating.

“You need to be more social.” You finally told her.

“No.” She responded stiffly, her voice muffled by your shoulder.

You two sat on the school rooftop underneath a sunny, cloudless sky. Even on days like these, it was sparsely populated. Most of the student body preferred to have their lunches in the cafeteria or the courtyard.

“They’re being nice.” You urged. “They’re being so nice, and I can’t be your only friend forever.”

“Why not?” She asked.

You rolled your eyes, jostling her ever so slightly.

“I just can’t.” You insisted because you have bigger dreams than being stuck in a tiny town, you know, that has no future. There was a life outside of this place.

Also, you didn’t like being Shoko’s only friend. There’s a reason why she’s so protective of you–possessive at times. It’s an alpha thing: they can’t help but take and keep. Her possessiveness was terrible in her younger years, but at least now she’s a tiny bit better about you having other people to hang out with. Still, she refuses to become closer to anyone but you. Even in middle school, she barely had a handful of acquaintances she was quick to abandon in favor of you. It’s not healthy to be so isolated like that. You worried for her.

She’s about to say something, but then something sour crossed over her face. Shoko hunched over as she melded herself further into your side. You abandoned your chastising and gathered her up in your arms.

Shoko’s ruts were severe. She was almost always out of school those days. Even after her rut passed, she took days to recover. She was weakened and intensely more irritable in the aftermath. The only good part of her ruts was that in the days after, her scent became stronger, even to your weak betan nose. Shoko's scent reminded you of summer turning into fall. A low hill. A grassy plain. A dessert just after a large rainfall. Unlike the few alphas you knew of, her scent wasn't overly invasive. It was clean, and low, and rumbling. 

For Shoko, certain vices eased the agony. Nicotine helped, but you never liked the way the smell of cigarettes clung to her body. You tried to help the best you could, letting her cuddle you in quiet places away from prying eyes, rubbing her scent all over you to self-soothe.

But there was a limit a beta could do.

Her volatile ruts were yet another reason to be closer to Geto and Gojo. Alpha pheremones help other alphas. Just being in proximity to another would be enough to steady herself.

Shoko knew this, and yet she remained stubborn.

“You don’t get it,” she whispered after her episode passed. Her eyes were shut as she leaned further into your space.

“You can’t smell them like I can.”

You tilted your head, about to prod further, when Shoko opened her eyes. Her lips twitched into a frown. Less than a heartbeat later, the rooftop door flung open just as a giddy Gojo called out, ‘Found you!’ with a satisfied Geto trailing just behind him.

Shoko barely held back a growl as you pulled her off her feet to greet the other two, quickly forgetting her words. No matter how resistant she was, your determination to get her closer to the other two never faltered.

But sometimes, even you wondered if they were right for each other.

You never meant to eavesdrop. You and Shoko always walked home together; it’s the only reason you made your way to her homeroom, wondering what the hold-up was. She never made you wait. If anything, you always arrived after her.

It looked like a fight, but why would Gojo and Geto smile if they were fighting?

Shoko sat at her desk. She barely packed. You saw notepads and pencils scattered across her space. Gojo sat backwards on the desk right in front of her, hands crossed on the chair as they stared eachother down. Geto stood a little way away.

They were already in mid-conversation. You barely caught the tail-end of it.

“-Who cares who marked who first?” Gojo said, an overdramatic pout arched over his lips.

“You should really learn how to share, Ieiri.” Geto continued because back then, they weren’t on a first-name basis yet. “It’d be better for all of us if you did.”

“You know that’s not natural, right?” Shoko responded; her honey eyes were no longer rich and warm. “You should give up.”

“Shouldn’t you, too, then?” Geto wondered.

The conversation ended the second Shoko noticed you. She stood up in a rush, barely shoving her things in her backpack before she marched up to you and dragged you away with a harsh grip on your arm. You could barely wave to your other two underclassmen before you were carted away by her.

You never asked, abandoning the curiosity as soon as you saw the expression on her face. You always wondered what would have happened if you had arrived just a bit later.

☕︎

Utahime wrinkles her nose before she enters your apartment.

“You smell like him.” She gripes.

You tilt your head before remembering there’s only one alpha in the world that made her face twist up like that.

Satoru always had a habit of scenting you in high school. You may not be able to smell it, but other omegas and alphas can. You scolding him while he sulked on his desk like a puppy wasn’t an uncommon sight. Obviously, he hadn’t broken the habit.

“I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You frown. “I don’t think omegas will like the idea of him scenting a beta.”

The omega perks up. “Wait, he’s joined the program?”

“All three of them, actually.” You tell her as you both settle down in your kitchen. “I managed to set them up with an omega just a couple of days ago.”

Your omega client seemed absolutely thrilled when you told him. Alpha packs are growing more uncommon by the day, so he was right to be excited about it. You hope it went well. He matched most of the pack's wants, so you don’t think it will end in complete shambles.

Utahime still looks unconvinced. “I didn’t think they went for omegas.”

You understood what she meant. In high school, those three never seemed interested in omegas. Shoko was friendly with Utahime, but Satoru always picked on her, and Suguru occasionally joined in. At first, you assumed it was a ‘pulling on the pigtails of the girl you liked’ situation, but their teasing often felt hostile.

“Maybe they finally grew up.” You tell her. “Do you ever wonder who the pack leader is? I never had the chance to ask them, but I always wondered.”

Asking about that kind of thing is a bit rude, especially if you weren’t a potential omega. You’ve seen other packs before, and it’s typically pretty easy to tell who the pack leader is. It’s usually the one who’s always biting the others down, keeping them in place. Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru aren’t like that. They work so well-together, it gets hard to tell who’s really calling the shots.

Utahime snorts. “It’s obviously Gojo.”

“Obviously?” You echo.

“His scent is the strongest. That’s usually what determines it,” She explains, not sounding too interested. “I bet he whined and whined until the other two gave in.”

You felt bad for laughing, but you could honestly imagine that.

“I’m really surprised Shoko’s still with them.” You continue. “I know they’re all pack, but she’s so different compared to the other two.”

Satoru was the most outgoing, but Suguru had his own quirks. Shoko was the odd one out, you always felt.

Utahime shrugs, rifling through her bag. “Maybe they have more in common with each other than you realize.”

For a bit, the topic of the three is dropped. You let Utahime ramble about her work and how her students are doing as she sets out her newest creation: a chocolate raspberry cake.

Omegas have certain quirks when their heat approaches. Utahime bakes–something you take full advantage of. You would feel bad about begging her to bring over her desserts all the time, but Utahime never seemed to mind your desperation. Like most omegas, Utahime's scent was slightly stronger. Now, even your weak betan nose could catch a whiff of her scent in the air. She smelled gentle, like flowers dancing in the wind on the side of a grassy mountain. 

“This is incredible.” You moan when you take another bite of chocolate goodness. It practically melts on your tongue. “Can you be my mate? I’d make you happy, I swear.”

She looks away. “Shut up.” There’s no heat in her voice.

“Have you considered it, though?” You wonder, inhaling another slice. “Joining the program, I mean. I can think of a few alphas that might interest you.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think my type is in the program, and besides.” Her face turns disgusted. “Now that Gojo’s in it, I’m not taking any chances.”

You laugh. “I’d make sure to never pair you up, I promise!”

She huffs again. Your voice quietens as you remember something.

“Hey, I was wondering…what do I smell like again?”

She frowns. “Why do betas always ask that? You need to get better noses.”

“Just remind me.”

She rolls her eyes, but she acquiesces.

“You smell the same as always,” she tells you. “Like Earl Grey & Cucumbers.”

By the end of the week, you finally get the call you were waiting for.

You pick up on the second ring and immediately press the speaker button.

“Hiro!” You trill, making yourself comfortable on the sofa. “How have you been?”

Your omega client responds in kind. You make small talk until you eventually bring it up.

“So,” you ask, “how did the date go?”

You expect a barrage of excitement and blabbering. Hiro is a sweet guy. You could tell he would mesh well with those three. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for making such a good match.

“It went okay.” His answer stills.

“Okay?” You repeat.

Just okay? You expect something far more than such a simple answer.

At your silence, Hiro continues.

“Maybe okay isn’t the best word. I liked them but…” he trails off. “I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“Huh,” you say, tapping your fingers. “What did they say exactly?”

“Not much, I mean, they were nice. I just don’t think our personalities meshed well. They were all so quiet, I felt like I was doing most of the talking.”

“Quiet? Even Satoru?”

“I don’t even think he spoke,” Hiro confesses.

You do not think the word quiet appeared in Gojo’s dictionary. He constantly chattered, unable to let the world forget he existed for hardly a moment. It was a major reason you paired Hiro with them. He is just as bubbly. You thought he and Satoru would work really well together.

“Wow,” you say after a while. “I’m sorry, I really thought things would work out between you four.”

“It’s fine,” Hiro responds, just as disappointed. “Plenty more fish in the sea, right?”

You once again tell Hiro your apologies before hanging up. Weird, you usually had more trouble appealing to your omega clients compared to your alpha ones. Maybe this would be a lot harder than you initially assumed.

☕︎

Halfway through your second year, Geto joined the newspaper club.

You were ecstatic when he told you. Shoko couldn’t participate in any early-school activities due to her poor sleep habits, and you doubt Gojo would’ve enjoyed them. Having somebody you knew do an activity you enjoyed was really exciting. It was something you and he bonded over, much to Shoko’s chagrin.

When you had club projects together, it was common to go over to one or the other’s houses. You liked Geto’s house. It wasn’t so large, not like Gojo’s sprawling mansion you’d had the misfortune of getting lost in once or twice. Geto’s home was vibrant and warm, filled with splashes of color and properly decorated furniture.

His parents were nice too. You liked the snacks they brought out, more than happy to indulge in the intricate sweets they prepared.

His parents were a proper alpha-omega pair. His alphan-father was boisterous and hearty in a way that reminded you of Gojo. His voice was loud, and his laugh practically rang through the halls.

His omegan-father was a bit on the meek side. You could count the number of times he’d directly spoken to you. His voice was soft–a complete contrast to his mate. He often resigned himself to quietly nodding along with whatever his husband rambled on. You could count the number of times he’d directly even looked at you.

Once, when Geto was still rummaging upstairs for something or another, you wondered out loud how they met. The alpha was more than happy to tell you the story of how he met his omega. You learned that they were childhood friends before the omega decided to part ways for a bit. Eventually, they reunited and got mated soon after.

“You waited for ten years?” You asked in awe. “Did you ever consider moving on?”

The alpha laughed before shaking his head, “Never.” He told you with a smile. “When alphas find their mate, nothing can keep them away, not even time.”

Geto’s other father stood in the kitchen, dutifully wiping down a counter. He didn’t react when his husband told you about their love story. You could only assume he was used to it.

“That’s beautiful.” You gushed.

There’s a secret smile on the alpha’s lips before Geto marches downstairs, leading you out the door with a glare directed at his father.

“Ignore him,” Geto told you as you trekked to school. “He tells that story to every person he can.” There’s a roll of his eyes, and he failed to hide his embarrassment.

“I think it’s sweet.” You kindly told him as he averted his gaze. “I don’t think I could wait ten years for someone like that.”

Geto considered you for a moment.

“I don’t think I could, either.” He finally admitted. “At the very least, I would get impatient by the end of it.”

You thought you were about to agree when your phone beeped. You glanced at the notification, and your heart skipped a beat.

Takahashi<3: I’m free after school:)

You barely hid your smile. Geto didn’t miss your sudden giddiness as you typed away on your phone.

“Did something happen?” He asked.

You shook your head and placed your phone back into your pocket.

“I think I have a date later.” You told him, oblivious to the twitch on his lips.

“A date?” Geto echoed. You cheerfully nodded.

You liked Takahashi since the start of the school year. He was in your homeroom, and you were already close acquaintances. You wanted to get closer to him, but Shoko often thwarted your plans. She made her distaste in Takahashi extremely clear. You tried not to get too upset by her attitude. She was protective of you and probably thought you could do better. It’s what friends did.

“Maybe we should keep this from Shoko.” You told Geto right before the school gates. “She doesn’t really approve of the guy.”

Geto hummed. “I’m not surprised.”

The day passed on as it normally would. You trudged through your sludge of classes and waited for school to finally be over. When it did, you practically jumped from your seat, barely waving off your friends as you rushed out of the school gates.

Takahashi wasn’t waiting for you, but you didn’t mind. You could take some time to calm your nerves.

You waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

You sent him a text.

Eighteen minutes.

You sent another.

Students filtered past you, eager to abandon their homework in favor of arcades and hanging out with their friends. You remained where you were, feeling your excitement drain the longer Takahashi refused to show his face.

After nearly an hour of waiting, you gave up. He wasn’t coming. You wanted to call him, but you can’t bring yourself to. Embarrassment crept up your shoulders and neck. You felt so stupid for even waiting around for this long.

They caught up to you when you were halfway home, glumly dragging your feet across the pavement. Gojo’s long arm draped over your shoulders as he lightly jostled you in an effort to catch your attention.

“Where are you going?” He cheerfully asked. You frowned.

“Home, obviously.” You told him before glancing further up ahead.

Geto gave a lazy wave. Shoko said nothing. You expected her to be a bit less receptive towards Gojo for putting his hands on you.

She had no reaction.

“So, you’re doing nothing, right?” Gojo asked. Glee radiated from his body. “We should go to the movies!”

“That sounds fun.” Geto agreed, before he gave you a pointed look. “As long as you didn’t have anything planned?”

You appreciated that he wanted to give you an out, but it was for nothing. You planned to spend the entire day with Takahashi. Your afternoon remained empty now that he unceremoniously ghosted you.

“That sounds fun,” You said, “but I’m not in the mood to–”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it isn’t that weird Earthworm movie Gojo kept talking about.” Shoko piped in as she stepped closer.

“But it looks so funny!” Gojo whined as he tugged you in the other direction. The other two followed right behind him. “You should give it a chance.”

Despite your reluctance, you were dragged off to the movies regardless. You couldn’t remember the film. The popcorn tasted buttery and salty in your mouth. Gojo kept disrupting you to talk shit about every character that popped onscreen. You weren’t allowed to go home until hours later, when the three made it their mission to walk you home. By that time, you’d forgotten about your botched date. You were far more interested in how the three had suddenly grown close.

It was as if they’d always been friends. Their conversations with each other felt natural, almost right. Even their bickering no longer held Shoko’s usual hostility. Perhaps you’d been wrong to try to force it. They just needed to find each other in their own way.

That day might not have ended the way you wanted it to, but you were still happy.

The very next day, Takahashi completely ignored you. He no longer smiled or greeted you. He seemed perfectly happy pretending you never existed in the first place.

If you were being honest, you did not mind in the slightest. Over time, you forgot about the guy who ditched you, and life continued on as always.

☕︎

Part of you expects the luxury.

When Suguru extended the invite, you knew he was never one to pull his punches. When he plans something, he goes all out. He adores dramatics and flair. This time was no exception.

The restaurant exuded extravagance the moment you stepped through crystal-clear glass doors. The warm air soothed the goosebumps gathering on your arms– a complete contrast to the chilly wind lingering just outside. The floors and ceilings were perfectly polished to the point where you could almost see your entire reflection. The spiral columns were perfect ivory, perfectly matching the black-and-white theme throughout the floor. Your heels clicked against the tiles as your hostess led you through the restaurant. The sounds of clinking utensils and glassware filtered through your ears.

They were already seated, three pairs of eyes clinging to your figure as you made their entrance. Satoru was more than happy to greet you first. His eyes simmer, but his smile barely falters as you get closer.

“What?” You ask.

Satoru wrinkles his nose.

“You smell like alpha.”

“It’s probably because I work with other alphas,” you say, “You know half of my clients are alphas, right?”

“Ignore him.” Suguru cuts in before Satoru continues to badger you. “He skipped his afternoon nap, so he’s a bit fussy this evening.”

You wave it off. Truthfully, you were used to alphas getting mad over another alpha’s scent. It’s happened to a couple of your omega clients, as well as to you. It’s instinct for alphas to flare up when they smell other alphas. Biological. They can’t help it. You actually expected Shoko to be more hostile because of it, yet as you glanced over, she barely even blinked. She must’ve gotten over her scent possession days from high school.

You adjust yourself in your seat as the waitress strolls over. Food and drinks are ordered. You listen to Satoru whine about work while the other two chastise him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink too much, but barely half an hour in, and you’re already tipsy. You know this was supposed to be a get-together, a high-school reunion of sorts. Work was absolutely not to be discussed, but you couldn’t help getting yourself worked up over it. They might’ve been your old high school friends, but they were also the most difficult clients you’ve ever had.

Shoko notices first.

“Just say it.” She eyes you.

“Say what?” You tilt your head.

“You’re mad, right?” Satoru pipes in, absolutely delighted when you frown in his direction. “It’s all over your face.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Oh, it’s that bad, hm?” Suguru hums, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not mad.” You repeat, before wincing. “I’m…frustrated, I think. You guys are giving me a run for my money.”

After Hiro’s clear rejection, you paired a couple more omegas with the three of them. Each one ended in the same way. You would get a call from a disappointed omega telling you it didn’t really work out. Later that same day, three alphas would innocently seat themselves in your office–ready for another match.

You don’t even know what you’re even mad about. They’re allowed to make rejections; that’s their right. For whatever reason, it oddly felt like they were messing with you.

You could expect that type of behavior from Satoru, maybe even Suguru, but Shoko? You could never see her do something like that for the fun of it.

(Or maybe you were clinging to her high school demeanor–the sweet, quiet girl who used to trail behind you with soft brown eyes and a muted smile)

“At this point, I think you might be doing this on purpose.” Your lips curl up into a smile to indicate how silly you think that is. It’s clearly a joke. Low-hanging fruit, you guide them to so they can quell your worries.

None of them refute it. Eventually, Satoru starts rambling about yet another incident involving the students at his school. Suguru chimes in with his thoughts every now and then. Shoko just berates her packmates for being such nuisances. The topic is carefully avoided for the rest of the night.

With delicious and expensive food carefully stashed into your stomach, the four of you decide to call it a night. When you reveal you took the cab here, the three are quick to invite you into their own car. It doesn’t take you too long to give in.

When you step out into the cold, Shoko offers her jacket. She used to do that back in middle school; smother you with her clothes any time she could. She’d take your clothes too, sometimes. You used to find skirts and shirts missing every time she came over. She never stopped, not even when you scolded her for it over and over again. ‘An alpha thing,’ your parents once told you when you complained, ‘you need to be more considerate of her nature. She can’t help herself. It’s instinct.’.

When she does it now, you don’t think it has anything to do with her instincts. She grew out of it when high school came around. Today, Shoko wraps her jacket around you to protect you from the blistering cold as you follow them outside.

The car belongs to Satoru. You’ve never seen it before in your life, but you can instantly tell. It’s Satoru’s in the way that it’s bright red and sleek. He starts the car with a low rumble. You climb in the back, feeling your seat hum as the car purrs to life.

Suguru settles next to you while Shoko gets into the passenger seat. Your stomach flips when you start to buckle yourself in. You start to remember all the times Satoru nearly killed you with his driving skills back when he first got his license. He’d been so excited back then, constantly offering rides to your house, the arcade, and even to places where there was no need for a car. His need to show off was an ever-present part of his personality back then.

“Did he ever learn to drive properly?” You can’t help lean over and whisper in Suguru’s ear.

He laughs while Satoru puffs from somewhere in front of you.

“I heard that,” Satoru says, “My driving was never that bad. You’re so dramatic.”

It was much worse than bad, but you decided not to bully him about it. Surprisingly, Satoru drives a lot nicer than you expect. He maintains a mostly steady pace, not at all like the sharp halts and breaks his younger self seemed to like so much.

He catches your eye in the rearview mirror.

“See?” He tells you with a proud smile.

You roll your eyes, unamused.

“Honestly, I’d take highschool you’s driving over Utahime’s,” you say, watching the city nightlife as the car speeds up, “she insists on driving fifteen miles below the speed limit. It takes an hour to get anywhere.”

“Utahime?” Suguru echoes, and you remember he probably hadn’t seen her since high school.

“How is she?” Shoko asks.

“She’s doing well.” You respond.

You’re about to offer a reunion before you clamp the urge down. She wasn’t their friend, after all. If anything, she barely tolerated them. Anytime your juniors would crash your hangouts, Utahime’s face would instantly pinch up. For your sake, she remained mostly civil.

“Is she mated?” Shoko asks.

You eye her. It’s a weird question to ask, but you give in anyway, not really seeing the harm.

“No, not that I know of,” you admit, “she’s not a big fan of the matchmaker program, either.”

You’ve tried to convince her numerous times, but Utahime refused to budge. She’d get oddly offended anytime you even broached the topic, so you’ve decided to avoid it.

For a split second, you catch Shoko and Suguru looking at eachother with dark eyes. Secret conversations only alphas could have. You bet their scent was dipping in a way only they could sniff out. A part of you always wondered it was like, but you never wondered for long. It’s not like you’d ever get to experience it.

Were they thinking of Utahime as a potential mate? You didn’t want to burst their bubble, but you highly doubt she’d be happy about that.

“We keep talking about our love lives, but what about you?” Suguru suddenly asks.

You glance at him. “My love life?” You ask.

“Met anyone special lately?” Satoru prods from the front.

You shake your head, watching the scenery pass you by. You remembered them being curious about your dating life back in high school, constantly hounding you the moment you got close to another beta who wasn’t them. It was only natural. Alphas and omegas found lifetime partners in a very different way compared to betas. To you, the idea of talking and going on dates to get to know someone is natural. To alphas, it must sound like an alien concept.

“I’ve got my hands too full of you three to even bother meeting someone.” You tell them with a teasing lilt in your voice before it fades. “Besides, meeting another beta is a lot harder than meeting up with an omega. Everything’s less instinctual, I think.”

“Why would you only restrict yourself to betas?” Shoko asks.

The alcohol was getting to you. Your lips are a bit looser than usual. Your words are cruder. You roll your eyes.

“Who else is there? An omega?” Your voice dipped into a sardonic sneer like you couldn’t even stomach the thought. “An alpha?”

You laugh at the joke. They don’t join in. You don’t notice the darkened tension in the car as you continue to stare out the window, not minding the silence. The evening tired you out. You stifle a yawn, and your eyes drift closed.

Something sharp grazed your neck.

Your eyes snap open. The car has stopped. You glance over to Suguru.

He smiles. There’s a respectful distance between the two of you. He remains a seat apart.

“Did I startle you?” He genuinely asks. “Sorry, I was trying to wake you up.”

“Oh.” You say, calming down your racing heartbeat. “No, it’s okay. Are we here?”

You raise up, trying to peek at the window. Your apartment complex lies just a little way away.

“Home sweet home!” Satoru cheers, his glee having fully returned.

“We’ll walk you up,” Shoko suggests.

“No.” You fumble with your seatbelt. “You’ve done so much already. Thanks for the night. It was fun.”

“It was.” Suguru agrees. “We should do it again, sometime.”

You eye him again. He still hasn’t moved. You resist the urge to touch your neck.

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to make your voice sound so clipped. “That would be great.”

You step out into the cool night air, trying to ignore the three pairs of eyes that followed you across the sidewalk and up the stairs. As soon as you got out of their eyesight, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

Hours later, when you’ve showered and settled into bed, you finally decide to tell yourself there was nothing. You had been half-asleep. You probably dreamed it. You’ve known those three your entire lives; there was no way they could do something like that.

And yet, a part of you could feel it on your neck. You reach up to lightly press on the patch of skin. There was nothing, but a part of you had that feeling memorized. You don’t think you could ever forget that feeling.

Teeth rasping right over your scent gland.

☕︎

You never truly saw Shoko as an alpha until your last year of high school.

You never had the chance to. You’d grown up with her by your side. You saw her every day. You didn’t notice her slowly surpassing you in height. You didn’t notice the way her teeth grew sharper and sharper. To you, she remained as Shoko: your tiny little follower.

In your head, you always put her in a different category than Satoru and Suguru. They were your friends, but they were also alphas. Shoko was your friend. There was a difference, though you weren’t sure what the difference was.

The incident happened sometime toward the end of the school year. By then, the three had formed a true pack. All the bad blood they shared in their first year had completely scattered by the second. They matched eachother well, moving as one coordinated unit. When the four of you hung out, you felt like you were the odd one out. It made you wonder if this was how Shoko felt when you forced her to hang out with your friends, an alpha surrounded by betas.

You weren’t upset at her for finding a friend group she matched with, regardless of how little you fit in. She deserved that.

You appreciated that she tried to incorporate you into her circle, too.

“Are you ignoring us?” Suguru asked.

You gave him a look, already exasperated.

“What are you talking about?” You frowned. “You literally asked me to check your essay. That’s what I’m doing.” You gestured to the paper on your desk.

Technically, it wasn’t your desk. This wasn’t your classroom. The rest of the second year had already left for the day, preferring to spend their time at home or at clubs. These three remained the odd ones out, still lounging on their desks hours after the bell rang.

Since Shoko had this bad habit of refusing to let you walk home alone, you were often forced to sit with them, waiting around until they decided to leave.

You sat just behind Suguru and Shoko. Suguru’s elbows rested on the chair’s back as he watched you work. Shoko mirrored him. Satoru abruptly left a few minutes ago, most likely to get a snack from the vending machine to satisfy his sweet tooth. The only evidence of his presence was his sunglasses and his backpack, hung over his chair.

“I’m starting to think you just gave this to me so I won’t get bored.” You complained. “Your writing’s perfect as always. What am I even looking for?”

“I’m sure you’ll critique it well,” Suguru responded, as an amused smile spread across his lips. “I trust your judgment.”

You rolled your eyes but cast your gaze down on the paper, hoping to find something to nitpick. You knew that was an impossible feat. These three were at the top of their class for a reason.

“I give up.” You told him, handing his paper back. “It’s perfect. I see a 100 in your near future. Stop fishing for compliments.”

He laughed, but he accepted his essay back with fingers ever so gently brushing over yours.

“Besides, I’m not really good at grading.” You continued. “Utahime’s the literature expert.”

“I don’t think she’ll be too happy being asked for a favor like this.” Suguru countered as he tucked away his assignment. His nimble fingers ran across his backpack and tugged the zip shut.

You clicked your tongue. “That’s because you and Satoru are constantly picking on her.”

Your eyes slide to Shoko.

“She likes you at least.” You tell her with a teasing smile.

In that, you mean the two girls are civil to each other. By that time, you gave up on Utahime’s ability to cozy up to these guys. They’re a lost cause–the few omegas in your school already steer clear of them. It’s clear they aren’t looking for anyone to complete their pack.

“I don’t think it’s like that.” She refuted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but then their expressions shifted.

Their hackles raised. They sat up straighter. Alert. You’ve never seen them act like that before. Your smile faded, pulled away from your lips by their sudden behavior.

There’s a soft thump at the classroom entrance. Your eyes landed on Satoru’s body, leaning against the door. His breaths were ragged, shoulders hunched over.

You stood up, making your way towards him. Shoko called your name, but you didn’t stop. You hesitantly reached for your junior. Concern settled at the back of your throat. Was he sick or something? He seemed okay when he left just a few minutes ago.

“Satoru?” You called, watching his shoulders stiffen. “Is everything okay–”

You saw his eyes. There was a flash of blue and teeth before he lunged at you.

Suguru stepped in before he could make contact.

There was a clatter of desks as Suguru pushed his friend to the floor and restrained him. You stumbled back, nearly tripping over on your feet, before your back collided with Shoko. She held you securely in her arms as you watched the struggle.

You couldn’t even recognize your friend as he breathed heavily, still pinned underneath your other friend. His eyes hadn’t left yours. They were clouded, unfocused.

Satoru’s scent was often muted to your beta nose. Sometimes, when he got particularly worked up, you caught a whiff of something deep and almost fruity in the air.

Today, the clear scent of Satoru invaded your senses.

Rut, your brain supplied even when your body remained helpless to do anything but watch. Satoru had gone into rut.

“Should–” Your voice shook. You swallowed down your nerves. “Should we get a teacher–”

Shoko called your name again. This time, you listened.

Your eyes drifted up to meet her own. She stared straight at Satoru’s writhing body.

“You need to go. Now.”

You don’t recognize her tone. You’ve never heard such a voice come from her before. It was deep, almost guttural. Unapologetically alpha.

It was why you obeyed. Silently, you packed up your stuff, putting away your assignments and pens, shoving them into your bag. You avoided the scene of the two alphas calming down their packmate as you fled the classroom. You heard Satoru’s grunts through the hall. They followed you, rang through your ears the entire walk home.

The next day, Satoru wasn’t at school. When he returned the day after, the incident remained unspoken. The three refused to acknowledge it. You did the same, following in their footsteps. It was easier to pretend everything was fine. You wanted to forget the vision of Satoru staring up at you with clouded eyes. You wanted to forget Suguru’s strength as he restrained his friend. You wanted to forget what you heard in Shoko’s voice.

It was easier to pretend.

Around that time, you looked into colleges out of town.

☕︎

You think it’s time you cut Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko off.

Not personally. It’s the first time in a while that the four of you have seen each other since high school. Nostalgia for the good old days clouds your vision. You couldn’t do that to them or to yourself.

But clearly, your services were not working out for them. The many matches and omegas you have set up always ended in rejection. There wasn’t a single omega they liked, and they often had vague reasons for why. Getting a clear answer was like pulling teeth. Maybe they couldn’t be honest with you because of your past with them.

It was not fair to those three. Maybe you were wrong to offer your services. You should have recommended one of your fellow matchmakers instead. A part of you will always feel guilty for jumping the gun like that, far too excited to help your friends find love than being logical.

You’d cut them off professionally. As for personally, you would still keep in touch here and there. Just not as often. You were gradually declining their invitations to hang out. You texted them less and less. You wouldn’t cut them off, but you were slowly starting to remember why you drifted away from those three in the first place.

You agonized over your decision for days, wondering how to break it to them.

When they extend the offer for drinks at their place, you decide to bite the bullet.

One rainy evening, you step out of your car, blinking away the drizzle as you stare up at the mansion. It was large enough to pack ten families into the estate. You knew Satoru’s family was well off, but it always breaks your brain when you try to understand how well off. Satoru offhandedly mentioned he liked the property for how demure it was compared to his childhood home. The front door puts your entire apartment to shame.

You barely wait a second after you knock. The door pulls open, and Shoko invites you in with a smile on her face. You return her hug, feeling her soft cashmere sweater underneath your fingers. She’d been smoking recently. The scent of it was faint but still noticeable in the air. A part of you wonders if you can chastise her as you did back when you two were kids.

You thank her. Thunder rumbles in the distance as you step inside. The rain and wind picked up, swirling angrily outside and pelting the windows.

“How long do you think the rain will last?” You ask her as she leads you further inside.

There’s another boom of thunder and lightning. Shoko glances down at you thoughtfully.

“We’ll definitely be stuck in here for a while.” She tells you.

You nod along. Hopefully, the rain lets up by the time you go home.

Unfortunately for you, the rain poured throughout the evening. Mother Nature refused to let up for even a moment, going on and on.

Compared to the chill of the rain, the house provided bright lights and warmth. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the three chattering about their daily lives. Throughout it all, you smiled and talked when necessary. You didn’t know if they noticed, but you were anxious, your entire body twinged with nerves. Despite the wine swirling in your cup, you refused to take a single drop. It’s best to have this conversation sober.

You wait until there’s a lull in the conversation. You take a deep breath.

“So, I was thinking about transferring you guys to another matchmaker,” you say. “But I want to hear your thoughts first.”

They don’t seem necessarily surprised by your declaration. Satoru adjusts himself on the couch. He props his chin on his hand as he studies you. His sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. Pretty sapphire eyes stare unwaveringly at you.

“Transfer us?” He echoes. “I thought we were your favorite clients.”

You try to match his lazy grin, but it comes out stilted and wobbly.

“I think it’d be best for you all.” You avert your gaze, fiddling with the cup, almost grateful to have something to keep your fingers busy. It was an expensive-looking cup. When the wine glass caught the light at just the right angle, it sparkled. Translucent glass turned iridescent.

“It’s not fair for me to keep you guys on like this for months,” you continue. “Every omega I’ve matched with you three always ends in rejection. Maybe you’d have better luck with someone else?”

You huff out a laugh.

“At this point, I’m starting to think you don’t want to meet omegas.”

You don’t need to have heightened senses of an alpha to know that was the wrong thing to say.

Immediately, the evening's quiet atmosphere turned heavy and daunting. You felt it in your shoulders as something invisible almost pinned you to the sofa.

Satoru’s smile almost turns feral.

“You’re right.” Shoko says.

You can’t read her expression. Her lips are pulled into a thin line. You think you like the lipstick shade the wears tonight. It compliments her tone well.

You squint at her. A pit forms in your stomach.

“What?”

“We don’t want an omega.” Suguru finishes for her. “And after meeting so many, I’ve never been certain of anything more. We don’t want an omega, we want you. We always have.”

He keeps his tone softing, almost coaxing, like you’re some wild animal. Despite the gentleness of his voice, his words cut deep into your soul. You’re shaking your head before you realize what you were doing.

“I don’t understand.” You repeat his words over and over in your head as you lift yourself from your seat. “I–I don’t understand why–”

“C’mon, you couldn’t have been that oblivious, right?” Satoru slips into the spot next to you. A long arm rests across your shoulders, keeping you in place. “We made things so obvious in high-school. Pretty sure Shoko was pining ever since elementary.”

You wait for Shoko to refute the claim. She doesn’t. Even now, you’re thinking everything they’re telling you is some type of sick joke–something alphas tell to unsuspecting betas to laugh at.

“I’m a beta.” You state the obvious. “You are all alphas. You can’t–you shouldn’t want me–”

“I don’t care.” Shoko says as she stares at you with pretty eyes the color of warm honey. “I never have.”

Satoru hums in agreement. He leans into your side, nuzzling his face into your neck. When he’s close like this, the smell of his scent is stronger. He smells like a Buddhist temple tucked away in the highest mountain peaks, unreachable to all. The wind howls and whisks past ice and rock. The air is freezing and thin, almost suffocating.

You move when he gets uncomfortably close to your nape, right where your scent gland is.

You throw his arm off your shoulders, standing up straight. You keep your eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at any of them. You don’t think you’d be able to look at them for a long time.

“I don’t want to listen to any of this anymore.” You hear yourself speak.

“You three are drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” You step away from the living room. Your movements are robotic. Stiled. Your body is kept on autopilot as your brain tries to keep up with what just happened. You head for the door.

“Sleep it off. We can talk about this later.”

You never reach the exit.

A hand grabs your wrist, keeping you in place. You turn back to see Suguru’s empty expression. His purple eyes are dark. He gives a smile. It looks hollow. Fake. Plastic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, “I just…I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

The words feel familiar. A conversation the two of you had a decade ago.

You open your mouth to ask when his lips swallow yours.

It’s utterly possessive in nature. Suguru’s scent envelopes you whole as he kisses you. He smells like what lurks underneath the roaring sea. You feel like you’re drowning, trapped in underwater caves where your ears pop from the immense pressure of the unwavering ocean.

Your hands press against his chest, urging him off. Even then, he only releases you when he’s had his fill. You stumble back, looking at his reddened lips and dark eyes. He’s breathing heavily, slightly hunched over like he’s ready to pounce. His eyes are wide and completely blown out.

You don’t think you’re looking at a person anymore.

You’re looking at a predator.

“Yeah.” It’s something between a growl and a laugh. “I don’t think I can wait any longer for this.”

Your words are cut off by a scream–your scream. There’s a harsh grip on your wrist before you’re being dragged back to the living room and haphazardly thrown onto the couch. Satoru’s hands keep you down as you struggle fruitlessly against his arms. He laughs somewhere above you as your vision twists and turns in mindless panic.

Satoru’s kiss is a lot more violent. He’s messy, smearing his scent all over your neck, your scent glands, eager to claim. His sharp teeth are more than happy to explore your lips. When he reluctantly pulls away in satisfaction, your lips are left in bloody tatters.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, either.” Satoru agrees with his pack mate. “I’m surprised you were the one who broke first, Suguru. What happened to ‘waiting ‘till everyone’s ready’ and all that bullshit? So desperate.”

Fingers play with the edge of your shirt as Suguru scoffs. “Shut up.”

“Stop.” You’ve never heard your voice sound like this before. “Don’t–don’t–”

“Enough.”

The two freeze. So do you. Something blankets over your body.

Calming pheremones, the last piece of your brain supplies, but who would…?

Shoko’s face enters your vision. You blink helplessly at her.

Her expression is serene and calm as she studies your body. Her hand reaches out, gently caressing your face and tracing the length of your jawline. You feel the scrape of freshly manicured fingers.

On omegas, alpha pheremones help them become more receptive towards their alphan mates. It calms them, makes them feel closer to their chosen mate, and helps the process move along.

On betas, however, alpha pheremones cross wires. You weren’t built to be receptive. It clouds your vision, making your thoughts hazy. The panic remains even as your body slows down.

“Did they scare you?” She asks, voice gentle and dripping with faux innocence.

You can only manage a weak whine. She smiles and leans down to place a delicate kiss on your feverish temple.

“It’s my fault.” The worst part is how honest she sounds. “I should have told you back in high school. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have left, and maybe things would’ve been different…” Her voice trails off, and there’s this faraway look in her eyes.

“I meant what I said.” Her eyes focus on you again. “I don’t care that you’re a beta, but I don’t think we can treat you like a beta…not if we want you to understand that you belong with us.”

You look into her eyes, right underneath the bubbling warm honey. You think you see it then. Something rotten that festered there for at least a decade before it climbed its way to the surface. For a moment, you wonder how you hadn’t seen this in high school. You wonder how she tricked you, coerced you into becoming her friend despite the dark depths she held so closely to her heart.

And then, you understand she hadn’t hidden this from you at all.

Until now, you hadn’t seen her as alpha.

“I love you,” Shoko tells you earnestly, brushing away the tears cascading down your face. Then her voice hardens, and she isn’t talking to you anymore.

“I make the first bite.”

Satoru and Suguru don’t argue. Why would they? To alphas, the pack leader’s word is law.

Her kiss is gentle. She’s slow and careful as she carefully glides her lips and tongue against your own. She’s careful of her teeth, savoring your shuddering mouth as she swallows your cries and pleas.

You hate how familiar her scent is. Shoko is the Earth that the mountain rests on, where the oceans rock. She was everything you’ve ever known, and yet there was so much left to uncover. You just didn’t think you could do that before losing yourself.

Someone tugs down at your pants. Your eyes widen, and your panic builds up all over again. Shoko hushes you. Her lips trail to the edge of your jaw.

“He just wants to taste. Don’t mind him.” She tells you as Satoru tugs your pants down your sluggish legs. His fingers itch with eagerness as he squeezes the plush of your thighs.

“Don’t worry.” Shoko continues as Satoru practically rips your panties apart. “We won’t knot you tonight. We know you aren’t ready for that.”

“Fuck.” Satoru groans as he spreads your legs. He leans down to nuzzle your pussy, nose bumping at your clit. “You smell even stronger down here. ‘Can never get enough of your scent, I just wanna drown in it.”

“Who’s the desperate one, now?” Suguru goads as his own fingers explore what’s underneath your shirt. He grabs a fistful of your chest before squeezing. Your back arches up from his movement. He smiles.

Satoru ignores him and buries his face completely into your pussy. His tongue flicks out, eagerly lapping up at your hole. His movements are oddly stilted, almost unsure, mostly driven by instinct rather than anything else. Of course, he wouldn’t have any real sexual experience. Unlike betas, alphas and omegas mate for life.

His eagerness largely makes up for his lack of technique. Within moments, your body responds to him, urged on by his touches even though your mind is clinging on to the last semblance of sanity you have left.

“I love it.” His voice is almost a sob, strangely broken and muffled as his tongue drives deeper into your hole, hoping to drink up the essence of you. “I love this. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so glad we have you again.” His hands reach up to keep your trembling thighs away from his face, opening up more of yourself to his eager mouth.

“Satoru.” You hated how heedy your voice sounded. Your core clenched at the intrusion of him tongue-fucking your sensitive pussy, muscles contracting like they wanted nothing more but to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. Your eyes squeezed shut as he pulled out to nibble on your clit.

“Please–please don’t–I don’t think I can–”

“I know, baby.” He coos from somewhere underneath you. “It hurts, right? I can make it all better, I promise. Just let go, baby. You can do it, I know you can.”

Encouraged by Suguru playing with your tits and the constant pressure of Satoru right at your cunt, you can’t put it off any longer. Shoko licks a stripe across your neck, and you’re gushing all over Satoru’s face as your pussy cums over and over again. Fingers dig into your ass cheeks, keeping your hips from lifting up as Satoru wrings out every last drop you have. He doesn’t stop until you collapse, exhausted underneath the staggering weight of your orgasm.

With bleary eyes, you watch as he rises from your throbbing pussy. His lips are still shiny. He never breaks his gaze from you as he licks his lips, savoring each drop.

Suguru takes his place between your trembling thighs. There’s a hiss of a zipper. Your eyes get impossibly wider as his cock pops out from underneath his briefs. It’s already an angry, bright red.

You don’t fight this time, not when Shoko’s pheremones are already starting to drown you again. You watch as Suguru’s cock aligns itself to your battered pussy. The tip taps on your swollen clit as he rocks himself through your plush lips, once, twice, thrice, until his cock finds your hole.

You hate the way his eyes glaze over. He looks down at you with complete adoration.

“I love you.” He tells you. “I can’t wait until you love us, too.”

Shoko’s teeth find your neck at the same time he bottoms out. The pain of the claiming bite somehow overrides the fullness you feel as Suguru ruts into you over and over again, completely giving into instinct.

he let out a chuckle through his nose in response to your exclamations, his lightly calloused fingers pressing into the plush of your hips, pushing them down to hold you there for himself. he was greedy, with you he always was. 

“hm?” he questioned in a small hum, as if he was wondering why you were squirming so much. it wasn’t like he was lulling his tongue against the underside of your clit, wrapping his lips around it and suckling whenever you tried to buck away. totally not.

“‘s too much, sh- shit…” pants left you as your thighs trembled over his shoulders, your hands half-heartedly trying to push at his head. but you knew how robert worked: he was stubborn. especially when it came to his lover, and selfish at times.

like right now with the way he was coaxing all those orgasms out of you.

robert chuckled, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. his pupils were blown out, a red hue brushing over his freckles. “yeah?” he murmured, giving you a break as he lazily peppered kisses along your soft lower stomach. “y- yeah,” you nodded slowly, watching him with trepidation.

“that’s too bad then, isn’t it?” you could see that stupid fucking smirk of his before feeling his thumb and pointer-finger rub your clit between the pads of them, the feeling making your hips jerk up.

“so sensitive. did i do this to you, baby? that’s cute.” he smiled, way too lovingly for how he was messing with your poor body right now.

most of the time, he always sighed about how you’re lucky that you’re cute. but right now, you being cute is what put you in this situation, overstimulated out of your mind, being tormented for no reason other than robert thinks you’re the cutest.