Chapter Text
“Did anything come in the mail for me?” Suguru asks, hopeful.
Without looking up from her task, his foster mother points to the stack of opened mail in the center of the kitchen table with her nail filer.
Hoshiko laughs. “When are you going to get a clue?” she asks, filing her nails and expertly holding a cigarette in her mouth while she speaks. “I told you to give up on those college applications.”
Ignoring her, Suguru picks up his mail. It has his name on it so he’s annoyed that she opened it; again. But he bites his tongue and walks down the hall to the room he shares with two other foster kids who are always out working just to give Hoshiko half of their earnings.
Hoshiko likes to adopt kids no one cares for — mainly omegas — and collect government funding.
Since the omegan population is thinning she gets paid triple the amount of the standard funding for taking them in and giving them a “good” home. All she cares about is money. They’re just numbers to her.
Suguru sits on his small futon that’s against one of the walls in the cramped space. He skims every letter, eyes stinging every time he sees the word “unfortunately” to the point where they’re blurry with tears by the last letter.
Every scholarship he’s applied for has been denied to him. His grades are some of the top at his school and he knows his essays are good. But his bad luck strikes again.
It’s as if he's cursed.
New laws were recently passed that gives sophomores the option to continue a normal high school career or begin university during what would typically be their junior year.
This law is mainly for omegas who would be allowed to attend university and pursue low level careers and still have time to mate and have pups.
They can’t very well prevent omegas from having basic human rights though they have been trying. It’s out of fear. Without omegas, alphas will be unable to procreate, and without procreation soon alphas will become extinct as well.
Suguru knows that university is the escape he needs to free himself from this place. The older he gets the less funding Hoshiko gets from the government.
Soon, she’ll find new ways for him to earn his keep around here. She’s already started, honestly.
“Kenshi-san is here,” Hoshiko says later. She walks into the room and closes the door behind her. “You know the drill. Watch that smart mouth of yours. Be cute and obedient.”
Every other day an older alpha stops by the house to see Suguru. Kenshi once followed him home from the convenience store and instead of sending him away and calling the police, Hoshiko struck up a deal with him.
Suguru tries to put on a pair of leggings under his school skirt but Hoshiko stops him. She walks up to him and pulls the skirt up higher so that it shows more of his thighs. Then she unbuttons the top two buttons of his dress shirt and fixes his hair.
“Go,” she says when she’s done.
The walk down the hallway feels like a walk to the executioner. Suguru hates the days when Kenshi comes over.
“Hello, Kenshi-san,” he says with a bow. “How are you today?”
“Geto-chan, you look very cute today.” Kenshi wears glasses and he has a comb over. From the way he dresses he’s probably a pencil pusher at some corporation. “Come sit by me.”
Suguru lowers his head and does as he’s told. He sits by Kenshi on the couch and keeps staring at his lap and fiddling his fingers because he’s uncomfortable. Kenshi sees that as him being shy and it makes him happy because a guy like him has a preference and it’s painfully obvious what that preference is.
“How was school today?” Kenshi asks.
The visits are never more than an hour. Sometimes Kenshi likes to watch Suguru make tea in the kitchen or he wants to know about his school day in detail. He never touches him, thankfully, but Suguru knows that he’s just building up to it.
“I enjoyed talking to you today,” Kenshi says, leaning over to sniff Suguru’s hair. He exhales deeply and his voice is thick the next time he speaks. “Buy yourself something pretty for me.” He offers him some bills.
Suguru looks at the money out of the corner of his eye, pretending not to see the tent in Kenshi’s pants. He takes the money carefully so their hands don’t touch but Kenshi grabs him by the wrist as soon as he has the money.
“What color are your panties?”
“Your hour is up,” Hoshiko says. She walks into the living room with her arms crossed. “We had a deal.”
Kenshi smiles sheepishly. “Next time then,” he says. He looks at Suguru one more time before he leaves. “I want to see them next time. I’ll pay double.”
When he leaves, Suguru hurriedly gets off the couch to run to his room. He feels gross. But Hoshiko stops him before he can reach the hallway. She holds out her hand expectantly.
Nostrils flaring, Suguru slams the bills in her hand.
“You’ll show him what he wants next time,” she says, handing him one of the bills.
Now he has enough to buy a latte. Maybe a bagel if he’s lucky. Super!
Suguru runs to his room, grabs a change of clothes, and goes to the hall bathroom to shower. The money he “earned” is hidden in his book bag to go toward his meager savings.
He cries in the shower; his tears are angry and hateful. If he could run away he would. But this neighborhood isn’t safe and he doesn’t know where else he could go.
University is his ticket to freedom but without scholarships he won’t be able to afford tuition.
He’ll just look for new scholarships and keep trying. He has to give it his all or he can only be mad with himself if he ends up having to sell his body to survive.
After doing homework, Suguru has to cook for the household. They only have rice, miso soup, and he makes a side salad. He packs up food so the others can eat when they come home from work.
Hoshiko’s boyfriend stops by and as always Suguru makes himself scarce. He locks his bedroom door too.
His foster siblings know to tap the window to wake him up when they come home.
Suguru lays on his futon and continues reading the book he checked out of the library over the weekend. He used to read fantasy and the occasional murder mystery but lately he’s been really into books centered around Alpha-Omega romance.
The scenarios vary. Last week he was reading a fake dating story and now he’s reading a royal arranged marriage one. He likes to lose himself in these stories and fantasize about being caught in his own whirlwind romance because it’s a happy break from his reality. He has to adjust the small lamp to face him so that he can keep reading well into the night.
He lays on his stomach, chewing on his bottom lip, and breathing heavily while he reads a steamy scene. It gets too heated and he has to lay the book down and close his eyes. The book isn’t even explicit. He’s too bashful to check out an erotic novel from the library unlike his best friend, Haibara, who only reads those kinds.
Suguru tries to imagine what it would be like to be kissed by a handsome alpha with gentle, strong hands. He always envisions the same person in these innocent fantasies.
Their face is blurred but he likes to think that they’re good looking, and they’re tall with broad shoulders and a chiseled chest. He has been into buff guys a lot lately. Watching the Judo club practice with Haibara is admittedly to blame.
His fantasies are put on hold when there’s a soft tapping on the bedroom window. From the sound of the tap he already knows who it is.
“Were you touching yourself?” Haibara teases.
Suguru climbs out of the window, the cool breeze making his warm face tingle. He rolls his eyes at Haibara’s question.
“I’m not you,” he says. He looks at the big plastic bag he’s holding. “Nanami-san allowed you to take free stuff again?”
Haibara works at the convenience store that’s up the block. The store is part of a chain that’s growing in popularity.
The owner of the franchise, Nanami, sometimes comes in to see how business is going. Coincidentally, Haibara always takes home a lot of food when those days happen.
“We got some new onigiri flavors in. Want to try?”
Suguru licks his lips. He’s still hungry though he’s used to going to sleep on a semi-full stomach. They sit outside the window and eat.
“Did you hear back from any of the scholarship foundations?”
“They all rejected me,” Suguru says. He takes his time chewing and swallowing. “I have four more I can apply to so it’s fine.”
Haibara curses. “At this point they’re discriminating against you because you’re an omega. You have top grades and I know your essays are good shit.”
“Who knows at this point. The deadline is approaching. I got into Kyoto OU but without a scholarship that covers everything I’m screwed.”
Kyoto OU is an omega only university. They have the program he wants and he likes the idea of an alpha-free campus.
“Geto, we need to start being realistic. We need a Plan B if that whole university thing doesn’t work out. You know that bitch will sell you to the highest bidder first chance she gets.”
Suguru stares at his half-eaten onigiri. He’s lost his appetite. “She’s already found a buyer,” he says, thinking about earlier. “I think they’re waiting for me to have my heat.”
Most omegas have their heat at the age of fourteen. Suguru is two years past that and he’s yet to have it. With his shitty luck, he’ll never have one. He knows his life would probably be easier without one but he had always hoped that at least his heat would prove that he’s normal and not some anomaly.
Sometimes it feels like he was never meant to exist. Everyone else has a purpose and things work out for them as if they were being protected by a guardian angel. Then there’s him who can’t catch a break.
Suguru tries to remain positive because it could still be worse.
“Let’s run away,” Haibara says. “No one will miss us and we won’t miss this place.”
Suguru laughs. “And go where? With what money?” He shakes his head. “Two omegas without a roof over their heads are better off dead.”
“Geto—”
“Don’t skip History class tomorrow,” he says, quickly changing the subject. “We’re going on a field trip to the museum, remember?”
Haibara sighs in defeat. “I guess I’ll grace Yaga-sensei with my presence.”
Suguru snorts.
The air smells different from the last time Satoru was awake, and everything is loud. Edo, he means Tokyo, is noisier than he could have ever conceived during his centuries long slumber.
It takes time getting used to. He almost considered sleeping through another lifetime because he was initially unimpressed with this era but he has grown to appreciate the new innovations.
Now he can travel great distances across the land in mere minutes.
There are communication devices that put messenger hawks to shame and great structures that pierce the clouds.
Satoru spends days, closed off at his estate, educating himself on the things he’s missed with assistance, of course.
“Gojo-sama, the National Museum is hosting an upcoming exhibit that I believe may interest you,” Okkotsu Yūta says.
He’s a young alpha with eternal youth who has witnessed the rise and fall of this country’s societies since the end of the Heian period. He was cursed alongside his master to never age and to never die.
“An exhibit?” Satoru asks as he tinkers with the electronic device that was purchased for him. “We can stop by this App store you spoke of as well.”
Yūta laughs. “The App store is on your phone.” He walks over to where he’s seated. “Here, I’ll show you.”
It always fascinates Satoru to see how quickly Yūta’s fingers tap on the device’s screen. He is reminded, though it is impossible to forget, of the time when they fought in countless battles together and slew many foes.
Yūta was exceptional with a blade, and was almost as deadly a killer as Satoru who brought gods to heel.
“Fascinating,” Satoru says as he scrolls through the virtual store. He hands the device back to Yūta. “Obtain all of the necessary applications for me.”
“Yes, Emperor.”
Satoru winces. “I asked you to abandon that title. I am no Emperor here,” he says, a hint of melancholy in his voice. “The magic has all but died in this world. Six Eyes is weakened.” There is another thing to mention but his mouth refuses to form the words.
Yūta’s expression is one of remorse. “My apologies,” he says. Then he smiles to lighten the mood. “Perhaps we should skip the exhibit and go to the aquarium instead.”
“What is the exhibit about?” Satoru asks suspiciously.
“You, Gojo-sama. The exhibit is about you and your rule.”
That can’t be. Part of Satoru’s curse is that he will fade from the pages of history. No one is to know his name nor the achievements he accomplished. His actions defied a god, and for that his suffering is eternal.
Yūta can see the confusion on his face. “Of course you remain nameless all throughout the history books. They only know you as the Alpha Emperor,” he explains.
Satoru would laugh if he didn’t feel bitter about being nothing more than a nameless relic to the people of this age. They have him to thank for saving this country from ruin. Had he not fought tirelessly, vile curses would rule the lands and humans would be extinct.
The very gods they worship turned a blind eye to their troubles and yet all of their names are remembered.
As if being cursed with this immortal life wasn’t enough, Satoru lost the one thing — the one person who made the endless fighting worth it.
Yūta visibly pales as Satoru’s rage increases. “Gojo-sama,” he warily says, standing up and taking a step back. “Please don’t enter a berserk state. The mansion has been recently renovated.”
They are one step up on the scales of evolution from the first alphas who were reminiscent of wolves with their pointed ears, black eyes, and claws.
When Satoru taps into this side of himself he takes on their appearance. The only reason why his claws aren’t extended is because he holds them back. Since Yūta’s mortal life ended at the turn of his maturity he is never at risk of entering a berserk state. He is fortunate in that regard.
Satoru puts his pitch black eyes on Yūta. “Let me see this exhibit,” he says in a voice deep and darker than his usual voice.
Yūta gulps.
One of the many things Satoru misses is the simplicity of the yukata. That is why, despite this era's accessible modes of transportation and communication, he favors the Edo period over it. It was the last time he walked this earth and lived amongst mortals.
But he entered a voluntary, prolonged slumber upon realizing he would not encounter any familiar faces in that lifetime. Even though he knew that already he still held out hope.
The reason for his mention of the yukata is because it is difficult for him to find trousers that fit his long legs. He has to have everything tailored so it takes a few weeks for them to go to the exhibit.
Thankfully they caught the final viewing of it.
As soon as Satoru stepped out of the vehicle, eyes were drawn to his large stature. He towers over betas and omegas and most of the other alphas he encounters stop short of his shoulders.
They turn hostile when he passes, and none know the reason why. It is their instincts alerting them to the presence of their superior.
Satoru and Yūta pay them no mind, however.
During the Heian period, alphas and omegas were far larger than their descendants are now. Then again, everything was at a grander scale.
The wildlife and forestry was abundant, and magic was thriving. Gods and deities mingled with mortals and their domains blended into reality. Shamans were plenty as were curses. Throughout the heavens and earth Satoru only had one equal.
“May I have a pamphlet,” Yūta politely asks the receptionist after they purchase their tickets.
The young man is gawking at them both, eyes big and mouth hanging open. “S-sure…here…” He stammers.
Satoru stares at the beta’s face disinterestedly. He is prepared to endure a lot of stares today. They stand out even when they try so hard to blend in. It can’t be helped.
Yūta accepts the pamphlet and gives his thanks.
Out of the two of them he is sociable and polite whereas Satoru is standoffish and oftentimes mean and curt. Despite the time that has passed and his reluctance to be addressed as such, Satoru still carries himself like an Emperor.
Old habits die hard, he supposes.
“The exhibit is upstairs,” Yūta explains as they walk. “I believe there is a field trip here so there will be a large crowd. Be warned.”
One thing that Satoru is on the fence about when it comes to this era’s fashion is the length of the skirts and dresses that omegas are allowed to wear in public. They wear their arms and legs out without reproach from their alphas or their parents. Initially it was jarring to see so much skin outside of a brothel but he’s starting to find it agreeable somewhat.
An entire wing on the second floor is dedicated to the nameless alpha who conquered cities and established a new order in what is now known as modern day Kyoto. Satoru and Yūta walk from display to display, brimming with nostalgia as well as grief for a time they will never get back.
Satoru is stunned to see vases and other furnishings from his former palace. He sees the full armor he once wore during a vicious battle that nearly cost him his life. He also sees the body jewelry, and gold crowns he wore on his top knot.
It was with great reluctance that Satoru cut his long hair before they left the estate. Yūta insisted that he had to “get with the times” in order to blend in better. But now he’s rubbing his fingers through his short hair remorsefully.
“You will grow accustomed to it,” Yūta says when he sees him touching his hair. “I did.” He points at a glass case that’s displaying different weapons. “Do you think they have Playful Cloud?”
Playful Cloud was a blessed weapon that could alter its form based on the wielder. For Satoru, it was a katana with a blade that never dulled. For his beloved, it was a three-section staff.
Yūta stops walking just as they’re approaching the weapons display. “Oh, they also have an entire section dedicated to the music that they played at court.” He looks between the weapons and the instruments indecisively.
“I am sure I can be left to my own devices,” Satoru says, making the decision for him.
He watches Yūta walk off and then he heads to the weapons.
There is a group closeby, headed by a tour guide who is telling them a story that was quite popular during his reign. He drowns it out because the story also digs up old, painful memories.
The entire exhibit is doing that, truthfully.
Satoru has lived thousands of lifetimes and yet the past still haunts him. It is as if his heart is frozen in time as well. He assumed only his age and appearance would never change but he was wrong.
From just a glance at the weapons that are on display, he knows Playful Cloud isn’t among them. The weapon would still be in the form it held when it was last wielded. To his knowledge, the last person to wield it was the person he gifted it to.
There isn’t a three-section staff here. Only daggers, the standard soldier’s katana, and some bow and quivers. According to the description card, all of these weapons were favored by the “mysterious Emperor” which isn’t true at all.
None of these weapons belonged to Satoru. From what he’s gathered this exhibit is a mixture of accurate and inaccurate pieces. He can hardly blame the curators, however. It was centuries ago.
The exhibit only gives a taste of what that era was like during his reign.
Satoru is staring at one of the katanas when he sees someone standing on the other side of the glass. The moment his eyes take in their face, they widen with recognition and his heart stalls mid-beat.
It is another hallucination.
That is what he tries to convince himself. He knows that this can’t be who he wants it to be because part of his curse is to never see them again.
That means that they are forbidden from reincarnating. Yet seconds tick by and countless blinks do nothing to make the visage disappear. When the person starts to slowly walk around the display case, enthralled by the weaponry, Satoru’s feet move on their own, an invisible force pulling him towards them.
Centuries have passed. So many lonely, agonizing nights, and yet he still remembers every line and curve of their face. Their sun kissed skin still reminds him of honey and their eyes are the same shade of violet he used to lose himself in during incessant love making. They spent their honeymoon completely isolated for a fortnight, wrapped up in one another. Satoru lost count of the amount of times they reached their pleasure together.
They fought side by side, and celebrated their victories and mourned their losses together. It took the ire of a deity to separate them, and despite the efforts of a god to keep them apart, it appears they will be reunited at long last.
Satoru blinks and a tear rolls down his face.
The person’s hair is still long and full like he remembered, though, not past their hips like it once was. Now it stops past their shoulders. It’s still the color of ink and glossy, looking like freshly spun silk. His fingers yearn to comb through the tresses.
“Geto!” a grating voice calls, dispersing the moment.
Despite that, Satoru is too stunned to be angry. That name. It can’t be that they have the same name as well.
The omega who shares his beloved’s face and surname looks up in surprise at another omega who is approaching. Neither notice Satoru watching them.
Satoru wants to believe that this is truly his Geto; his Suguru, but he’s too afraid to use what’s left of his magic to check the person’s soul. He’s afraid to be wrong. But he’s curious to know if his given name is also Suguru.
That would be too much of a coincidence. Until Satoru learns the truth he will address him as Geto only as not to tempt his heart.
“Oh, Haibara there you are,” Geto says.
Satoru’s eyes burn when he hears his voice. He could never forget that voice. Could this truly be him?
“Yaga-sensei is looking for you. We have to head back to school.”
Geto gives the weapons another look before he walks off with the omega, Haibara. Both are wearing the same attire; plaid skirts that are criminally short and navy blazers. There appears to be an emblem on the back of the blazers but Satoru doesn’t know what institution it represents.
Without thought, he follows the omegas at a distance.
Now that his initial shock has dimmed, he is taken aback by how small this Geto is. He’s the same size as the omegas are in this era so it’s not striking to anyone else, but to Satoru it feels wrong.
At the time of their marriage, Geto was only a head shorter than him and he was lean and strong. This version of him looks like he would stop at Satoru’s chest if they stood facing one another and his body, albeit comely, is soft around the edges.
“Gojo-sama,” Yūta catches up with him just as he’s following the omegas out of the museum. “Wait for me!”
Satoru stops at the top of the museum steps, watching the omegas board what he has recently learned is a charter bus. He stares at Geto through the window he’s sitting next to until the bus is out of sight.
“Gojo-sama?”
“Do you know where that bus is heading?” he asks.
Yūta steps around him to see his face. Once he sees his serious expression, he straightens up. “I do not but I can look into it. I have my ways,” he says. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I think my wife lives again.”
“Geto-sama?!” Yūta looks in the direction of where the bus once was but it’s already gone. “Are you certain? Lord Tengen forbade Geto-sama’s soul from entering the reincarnation cycle.”
How could Satoru forget that? He hasn’t. He never will.
He knows that Yūta is doubtful for his sake. He doesn’t want him to fill his heart with hope just to have his dreams dashed. He is finally willing to live and make the most of this wretched life and not sleep for an eternity so he is in a delicate state.
Yet Satoru knows his eyes did not deceive him. He just needs to be certain if this person is a reincarnation or just the gods using Suguru’s image to taunt him.
For an immortal who has lived as long as Satoru has, he should have developed patience by now.
He hasn’t.
In the days following their trip to the museum, he has been pacing the floors of the mansion, sighing excessively, and pestering Yūta nonstop about his progress. He needs to know if Suguru is alive in this lifetime or not.
Their happiness was cut short in the past by enemies who knew how to hurt Satoru the most. He lost everything when Suguru was killed; his sanity, his joy and his will to live.
In his grief he committed grave sins that landed him this eternal punishment. To avenge Suguru, he would do it all again.
“I have gathered all that I could get my hands on,” Yūta says on the fifth day of this long waiting game.
They’re sitting at the dining table while Yūta flips through the file he’s collected. He has learned a lot of useful skills during his time living amongst mortals.
He continues, “I do not know how this is possible but Geto-sama is alive.”
Satoru rises from the dining chair, a joyous smile spreading across his face. His heart comes alive for the first time in eons, his blood pumping, veins filling with renewed vitality.
“Tell me where he is. I must go to him,” Satoru says without a moment to waste.
Yūta's smile is apologetic. “While this is amazing news, we must proceed with caution,” he says. “There may be a nefarious reason behind it. Then if this is mere coincidence you have to be mindful of this era’s laws.”
Satoru sighs. “What laws? Even the gods know that Suguru is mine.” He frowns. “Am I to heed the warnings of mortals when it comes to re-claiming my mate?”
“Geto-sama is a high schooler, Gojo-sama.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“By all rights, he is a pup.”
That makes Satoru laugh. “A pup?! He looks old enough to have a litter by now.” His litter, of course.
Yūta flushes. “That may have been true centuries…even decades ago but he is not of age. His guardian may take issue with an alpha your age coming around speaking of mating.”
“I will wait then,” Satoru says easily. He doesn’t think it’s a huge issue. “When he is of age, we will wed. Until that day comes I would like to be his companion. Do you have any idea how much I have missed him, Yūta?”
“You cried for him even in your sleep,” Yūta says quietly. “I know how much you loved him— still love him. I only want you to be cautious. This could be a trap.”
“Regardless, that omega I saw at the museum was Suguru, was it not?”
“It was.”
“Then whatever trap may lie in wait, I will gladly walk into it if it means I can have him again.”
This is simply a matter that Satoru will not back down on. Suguru has finally reincarnated.
A thousand years have nearly passed.
Nearly a thousand years without him. He can’t stand by and do nothing.
Yūta knows this is a losing battle. “We must go about this discreetly,” he says. “Modern omegas do not take kindly to primitive courtships, either.”
“So, fighting until we’re both bloody and fucking in the wilderness is off the table?”
“It most certainly is!”
Satoru sits back down.
He wants to see Suguru now but he agrees that they have to be discreet. It will take time to adjust to the new way of things but Satoru is not married to his archaic traditions by any means. He will adopt these modern customs and play by the new rules if needed.
“By the way, Nanami wants to see you.”
“You told him I was awake?”
“Everyone felt it the moment you opened your eyes.”
Everyone — as in the few unfortunate souls who share Satoru’s punishment as well as the beings who have managed to survive this long.
There are other remnants of the past who still exist. Nanami Kento is one of them. He will hold a grudge against Satoru for a milenia if he doesn’t acknowledge him.
“Very well, I will go to him,” he says, resting his face on his fisted hand. “Is Suguru’s name the same?”
“It is. I was surprised.”
Satoru closes his eyes and smiles as he thinks about the moment at the museum when he saw Suguru’s face. He’s as beautiful as ever.
“I’m sorry but you can’t come home with me,” Suguru says.
The cat meows at him, and it almost sounds like he’s asking “why?” but he may be imagining that. Still, Suguru pats the cat’s head and explains to it that his home is not ideal. There’s too many mouths to feed and he’s afraid of what Hoshiko will do to the cat when he’s not home.
Suguru sees the black cat at the bus stop every day after school. Sometimes he brings snacks from school to feed it. Today the cat is trying to follow him from the bus stop. He wishes he could take it home but he knows he can’t.
“Stay,” Suguru says, trying to sound stern. He fails. “Please.”
As soon as he starts walking down the sidewalk again the cat follows him. Suguru tries to think of a way to scare it off without actually scaring it or hurting it. He’s nearing the house when his thoughts are abruptly put on hold at the sight of Kenshi who is outside talking to Hoshiko. This is the earliest he’s ever stopped by.
Suguru remembers what Kenshi said he wanted to see the next time he visited, and today is the day. He tried to make himself forget about that and it worked for a time but now it has snuck up on him. Panicking, he hurriedly picks up the cat.
He runs back toward the bus stop before either adult can notice him. Since Haibara is working today he’ll go to the convenience store until he can think of a way to avoid Kenshi today.
“Welcome—” Haibara cuts his greeting short. “Oh, what’s up? Where’d you get the cat?”
Suguru approaches the counter. “Can I stay here? I can’t go home now,” he says.
“I’m the only one working this shift so you can hang out back.” He opens the side gate for him. “Did something happen?”
“That pervert is there.”
Haibara curses.
In the break room, Suguru puts the cat down. It rubs against his leg as if trying to comfort him. Suguru smiles and pets the cat behind the ears.
He won’t be able to avoid Kenshi forever. With the way things are going, Haibara’s suggestion to run away is looking like the only other option he has. If he had a job he could at least save up money but he doesn’t have any luck with jobs either.
Something has to give.
“Yo, can you stand behind the counter and pretend to work here while I grab something from storage?” Haibara asks. “Just need to make sure no one runs in here and steals.”
Suguru puts on one of the employee vests and stands behind the counter while the black cat sits by the register. It seems very clingy today. He should find a safe home for it.
When the sliding doors open, Suguru tries to remember the greeting that Haibara always says but he sees who enters and his words die in his throat.
Two older alphas walk in, one after the other. The first one is tall but then the one who walks in after him is even taller. He’s never seen alphas who were this tall and well built before. They look like giants.
“Hi, Welcome to 11-Eleven!” Suguru squeaks. He adds a big smile to cover up his shaky greeting.
Both of the alphas stare at him in surprise. The blond one looks over at the one with white hair as if to gauge his reaction. The alpha with white hair is staring at Suguru intently with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen.
It’s almost as if he knows Suguru, but Suguru would know if they met before. He could never forget anyone like this. When the alpha takes a step forward as if to approach Suguru, Suguru tenses up.
Not out of fear, necessarily. It just looks like the guy wants to embrace him and that reaction is strange.
They don’t know each other.
The alpha notices Suguru’s reaction and he halts, his eyes losing a bit of their light.
“Nanami-san, sorry!” Haibara runs up to the counter, bowing apologetically. “I asked my friend to man the counter while I grabbed more cups from the back. We were out!”
The blond alpha, Nanami, is the manager that Suguru has never met. He never knew the guy looked like this. He assumed he would be some old, kind man, and while this guy is older he and his friend look like they’re only in their early thirties.
That’s old but not that old. He’s a high schooler so he thinks everyone who is no longer in school is old.
“It’s fine,” Nanami says, smiling at Haibara. “Are you going to introduce him?”
Haibara walks behind the counter and side hugs Suguru. “This is Geto Suguru, my best friend,” he says. He looks at the white haired alpha who is still staring at Suguru. “Who’s your friend?”
“Gojo Satoru,” Nanami says. He glances at Suguru but his eyes don’t linger. “I ran into him on my way here. I wanted to show him around the store.”
Suguru is glancing off to the side to avoid Gojo’s gaze. He wants to look back at him because he admittedly finds him to be very good looking but he’s too nervous about being stared at this way. It’s not like Kenshi’s lecherous stares or Hoshiko’s disdainful stares, either.
But he can’t quite decipher what it means.
“Do we have a mice problem?” Nanami asks, pointing at the cat that’s relaxing on the counter.
“Sorry.” Suguru picks the cat up and hugs it. “This stray cat followed me from the bus stop. I couldn’t abandon it.”
Gojo chuckles softly when he hears that.
Nanami looks uncomfortable, and that makes Suguru assume that he’s allergic to cats or maybe he simply dislikes them.
“Nanami-san, are we hiring?” Haibara suddenly asks. No matter the situation he’s always up to something. “Geto really needs a job. He’s a hard worker, he’s reliable, and he lives close by!”
Normally Suguru would be embarrassed by this. He has a difficult time accepting praise but he does need a job and he wouldn’t mind working here. In the past when he tried to apply here they were always overstaffed.
“I’m actually seeking a part-time employee.”
Three heads turn in Gojo’s direction. Out of the three of them, Nanami looks the most shocked.
“Really?” Suguru asks, finally looking at Gojo closely.
He’s very tall, broad, and fit but there’s something awkward about him.
Awkward in an endearing way, of course. With his handsome face and stature, one would assume he would give off a confident air but he looks almost shy when meeting Suguru’s eyes.
That puts Suguru at ease.
Gojo removes a card case from his pocket. “I own a bookstore. The books are rare antiques.” He walks over and hands him a black business card. “We cater to a niche clientele. I would like to hire a receptionist.”
Suguru takes the card, reading over the silver text. The card alone looks fancy. He wonders what the bookstore looks like. Both alphas look like they’re rich, and through the window he can see what looks like a sports car parked outside.
“You can stop by tomorrow after school if you’d like,” Gojo says.
A rich man wants to give him a job at a bookstore, which is kind of his dream job considering how much he enjoys reading. This is too good to be true. In Suguru’s experience nothing ever works out this well for him.
Suguru wants to know what the catch is.
“He’ll be there!” Haibara says before Suguru’s negative thoughts can fully take over.
He’s being ridiculous, honestly. If he doesn’t make money he’ll be sold to Kenshi. If the bookstore turns out to be a money laundering front, so be it.
Suguru nods in agreement. “I’ll come straight after school tomorrow!” He offers a kind smile.
Gojo stares at his face for several seconds before breaking out into a smile that highlights his attractive features. Suguru’s ears burn.
“Tomorrow then,” Gojo says, sounding pleased.