cry me your prayers

by Nien

Summary:

Suguru was born a slave. His whole life has been nothing more than to survive the next day and live unnoticed and undiscovered.

When he’s sold again, he finds himself closer to the god he devoted his life to on bleeding knees.

Chapter 1: 桃色 | Momoiro

Summary:

Momoiro · Pink

 

symbolizes spring, femininity, and youth. an association with cherry blossoms

Notes:

Trigger Warnings
(May be applicable to the whole story):

Implied Non & Dub-con (to original character)
Attempted Non-Con (to Suguru)
Dubious Consent
Original Character Death
Manipulation
Hi! This is going to be a long note so buckle up!

First, thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! This is purely a product of my sleep-deprived mind that I just wanted to share and solidify on the internet. (Because an internet history where I post fucked up smut is absolutely an achievement for me.)

Next, this story is intended to be dark and these characters are meant to be and purposely written to be flawed, complex, but morally bankrupt characters. It is in no way my intention to trigger anyone; therefore, if you are uncomfortable, please do not proceed. That being said, I have written a general list of trigger warnings in this chapter that will encompass the entirety of the story.

That being said, though the story is set in the Edo Period, I do not claim for this piece to be a faithful representation of Japanese history and nor does it aim to be. Borrowed words and places mentioned might not be used correctly. There are deliberate choices I’ve made and ignorant choices that I will, unfortunately, commit throughout the story. (It is never my intention to be disrespectful and I will say sorry in advance)

(Also, when I searched the word “Kami-sama” to fact check if i'm using it right, a character from Dragon Ball Z popped up and I swear to god I hope you guys don't think about that)

With that, I honestly hope this story is to your liking because this is truthfully just me needing to write this piece because I have to stop suddenly giggling and screaming mid-everything. (lol)

Most importantly, I tried my very best to slutify Suguru out. You're welcome (?)

(I'm sorry, this is truly a need for me at this point)

---

 

The world is not kind to those who do not have soulmates.

People who have found theirs are called “Full Spirited”.

Full Spirited for being fortunate, blessed, and touched by the gods.

Full Spirited for being seen as whole, competent, and above in a society that treats those who do not have as less than.

Dirt poor and lesser than livestock to be slaughtered.

They are peasants, prostitutes, and slaves.

 

---

 

Suguru was born into a family of slaves.

An only child because it is the only child they could afford, an only child for it was all her mother’s body could give.

His mama was said to be beautiful and was born above their current means. A slave owner’s daughter. A prized omega. Born from full spirited parents.

But his mom was foolish and rebellious. Bored with her privileged life, she opened her hands and body to a slave. An alpha who sought her because he was desperate and found her naivety too compelling and pure not to play with.

When they were caught, absent of clothing and sins committed in full daylight, her mating bond was still fresh and angry from the teeth that bit it.

His father thought he had risen and won. No longer will he be subject to work, whip, and abuse.

He has finally won.

A slave to a slave owner. Oh, how he waited for this moment.

But though Suguru’s father was opportunistic and had a good set of hands for manual labor, he was illiterate and imbecilic—an alpha who lived up to insults.

Shallow, desperate, uncaring and

Selfish.

Deviants, defiled, and tainted individuals. “Shadowed Souls” could never share the same air as those who are chosen and blessed by gods.

Even if it’s their daughter.

His mother’s clan had no room for mercy and had no reasons to keep secrets. Shadowed individuals are said to be cursed and can bring misfortune to the clan. And for a clan who is already knee-deep in murky water, whose coins are not enough to keep pretenses, an omega heir who tainted herself is of no use.

When they were found in that dusty room, his mother signed her death within her clan’s doorstep.

She was too young and too dumb.

With no path towards kindness for her mistake, the only thing they could do was run.

And run.

 

---

 

His mother was sheltered and was prized by their clan.

She was supposed to be the clan’s entry to better glory. To marry her soulmate (from another clan they firmly believe) and collect as much money as she can as she gives birth to children who will be just as beautiful.

A glorified broodmare, but glorified and revered all the same.

When she went with Suguru’s father, she thought her life would be different and free. Hard but free. She found the man who sullied her as someone who truly loved her. Loved her enough to run with her and escape death.

However, his father was incensed and vexed. Now subjected to having a leech on an already hard life. On the run on top of being treated like dirt. He picked the wrong naive heiress and fucked his life along with his choices.

It didn't take long for the woman to truly see the man she mated and ran with. Irate, cruel, and a drunkard. She lost her cushioned life in a palace in exchange for heavy hands from a man who treated her like a whore and a servant.

Her mother regretted everything from then on.

 

---

 

When his mother noticed a firmness to her stomach and morning sickness that could only mean a pup, her regret only deepend. A child in a life like this. She couldn’t help but wish she ended it before anything happened.

“I am carrying a child.”

“Huh?” Slurred, agitated, drunk.

“I am with child.” Firm but faint. Scared, unsafe.

A slap.

He connected his hand to her cheek so hard her ears ringed. Her body slammed to the wooden table on the dingy hut they called home.

“Get rid of it or I'll fucking rip it out of you myself.”

 

---

 

She tried. She was scared and she was in no way fit to be a mother. She didn't want to, she didn't even want to try.

For those who are shadowed, below the highest pedigreed individuals, feticide was not uncommon. Wanted or unwanted, it did not matter. Subjecting a life of such cruelty was too cruel. Everyone saw that, everyone knows that.

Her mother asked slaves of her (now) kind, of those who had too many children and had to toil soil and dirt to survive. She asked betas and omegas in the red light district, whose bodies are such commodities that a pup would kill their livelihood, and she asked midwives who took pity on her and noticed how her skin was too smooth and face too naive to know this was just another omega who was taken advantage of.

Tonics, flowers, leaves, even something close to poison, she had tried.

The pup stayed in her belly.

By the sixth month, she had exhausted herself to too many options that failed. The only option by then was to deliver.

“Let it be,” an older beta woman told her. A midwife she has been secretly meeting. A kind woman who took pity on her and nursed her when her bruises and beatings were too much for a frail and pregnant body.

“Let it live if it wants to. It’s practically a blessing by now with how it’s still alive and all.”

“I don’t…I don’t want my child to be a slave.” His mother hiccups through gritted teeth.

“It should just die before it sees this world.”

“Then do not hold on to this pup as much as it holds on to you.”

 

His mother’s belly continued to grow, by now too far gone in pregnancy to terminate. His father has also grown weary of being angry and pissed at an omega who looks like she’s one step away from dying.

"This child might be a blessing," He thought. Frail-bodied, malnourished, and battered, delivering this kid might just kill this whore who fucked his life.

As for the kid, whether it's an omega or beta, fuck it, even an alpha, he could make use of it.

“I won't be feeding that little parasite of yours, got that?”

His mother didn't answer.

 

---

 

When Suguru was born, his mother almost passed out from exhaustion. Alone in her home with Suguru’s father absent, her screams echoed throughout the town. Her cries were too familiar for the other omegas’ who had experienced the same. 

With shivering hands and blood seeping through her makeshift and desperate nest on the floor, she delivered her son with beautiful eyes and a healthy set of lungs.

It was almost incredulous how her pup had stayed healthy even with all her efforts.

As she peers at her pup, she cannot help but feel love creep in her weary heart. She wanted this child after everything.

With the same eyes and dark locks, he looks too much like her to feel any misplaced anger.

“A god has truly taken pity on us, Suguru.”

 

---

 

It is said that children born from Shadowed Souls are lackluster, ugly, and ignorant. A far cry from children who were born from the elite, whose skin remains smooth and unblemished, eyes wide and cherubic. Souls that are said to be pure and favored by revered entities.

Shadowed children, almost called parasites, were just too unfortunate to look at.

Suguru was none of that.

Suguru was born beautiful. His mother always told him. When he was but three, he was wide-eyed and bubbly. Chubby cheeks and eyes that were too precious.

His mother took pride in him and held some inkling of love for her child.

His father was usually absent from their home, either subjected to toiling the land of his masters or spending hard-earned money from both his and his mother to go to the pleasure district.

It did not matter to his mother. All the better.

When night comes and his mother has bruised her knees enough in sweeping and mopping floors, wrinkled her hand enough from laundry, and masked her disgust from lingering eyes, she takes her child at night to the bustling town and parades him like a prized statue.

His mother took pride in a kid who was, in some disgusting way, above others. She took pride in the reverence her pup received as it was a mirror of how her life once was.

Suguru in some ways could not blame her. A sheltered, prized omega. She will always long to be seen and loved, even if it was only by extension through her child.

“Oh my, he is beautiful!”

“He looks just like you.”

“He looks like he could be full spirited.”

“I’ve seen less beautiful children from those on top.”

But then again, people are never truly kind.

“He could fetch a pretty penny in the red light district. You can sell him when he's a little older.”

“There's a full spirited couple who’s been roaming the district. People won't know he's from us if they take him.”

By then, his mother stopped parading him around and instead sheltered him and loved him through closed doors.

No matter the way her life ended, at least her son was with her.

His beautiful, blessed pup.

 

---

 

By age seven, things began to change.

His father was drunk and came home after a month of god knows where. He looked exhausted and dark whip marks marred his back.

He looked in pain and there was no other way to ease it than by hurting his mother.

“Fuck, this is all because of you! If you could’ve just closed your fucking legs, we wouldn't be in this situation.”

He smashed a bottle close to her head and threw her around like she weighed nothing by her hair.

“No light, no food. Fuck, not even water! You useless, fucking slut!”

Her cries echoed through their small home and all Suguru could do was cry and run towards his mother.

“If you just didn't bite me, I wouldn't be here!”

When his father noticed him, he smirked and somehow found a way to hit his mother harder. All Suguru could do was cry and scream as his mother tried to shield him.

“I toil that fucking farm, have my face nudged into the dirt by those sick bastards you once came from and I see this bastard of yours looking like he hasn’t lifted a broom in his life!”

A slap, a kick, and a resounding crack from his mother’s body.

It was too cruel for Suguru to watch.

 

After his father was tired of beating the life out of his mother, he told her, “I’m not living like this anymore. Go work in Shimabara.”

With the mention of the place, his mother’s eyes widened and terror shook her face.

“I…I can’t, please. I’ll work two jobs, I’ll give more money to you! Anything but that,” His mother sobs.

His father spat on his mother and the look of resolution in knowing there was no other way was enough to drain any blood from her face.

“Working two, three jobs won't do jackshit in how we live right now. I know some bitch in the red light district and he told me they need a new whore because an omega killed himself. You fill his spot.”

His mother’s sobs racked through her whole body.

“Don’t do it and I'll throw your bastard in there, too.”

His father looked directly at him and his mother’s fear permeated through the air. Her scent was so bad it smelled almost like death.

But he can smell it. There was anger to it, too.

His father looks at him and points, “And you, you take your mother’s job.”

His father was a disgusting man. The way he looked at him was enough for Suguru, as young as he could comprehend and understand, to truly wish he never comes back and is found dead by sunrise.

“Yeah, that kid looks pretty, alright,”

And without looking back, he said to his mother, “You’re lucky he looks too much like you and you fucking disgust me.”

 

---

 

His mother worked in the red light district and changed.

His mother’s scent began to go faint and mix with different ones. Betas, but mostly alphas. So pungent and so disgusting that when he meets his mother (rarely so during the morning and never at night) he cannot face her head-on with how sensitive his nose gets.

His mother became distant and rarely would she smile and care for Suguru any longer. It seemed that any love she had for him dissipated and vanished.

Suguru longed for his mother. He would often cry at night.

 

When his mother worked in the red light district, Suguru was thrust into her mother’s previous master.

A family of merchants who lived in a big house. For seven-year-old Suguru, the house was foreign and big. Too big.

He was told that he was going to work with the Tanaka’s, a full spirited couple. However, only the beta woman met Suguru, Tanaka Yukiko, who looked at Suguru with disinterest and poorly concealed disgust.

“Where’s that woman? His mother?” Yukiko asked to her left, towards an old omega.

“His mother…his mother is now working in the red light district.”

“Ah,” She laughs, and continues, “Well, I could say she now works where she belongs.”

“Well, see to it that this runt knows what he’s doing. If he steals or damages anything in this home or at all. See to it that he’s in shape. I don't care if you kill him trying.”

“Yes, of course.”

 

And with that, Suguru learned to sweep and mop floors, clean clothes, carry boxes, and be at the beck and call of the Tanaka’s.

“Suguru, get the blue kimonos and bring them inside!”

Suguru immediately heeds and runs to get one of the kimonos hanging from the clothesline.

With dirt in his clothes and face exhausted but honest, he gave the kimonos to Yukiko and bowed, afraid of her wrath.

“Here, Yukiko-san.”

“Why, you–!”

And she slapped him. The impact knocked the wind out of Suguru and tears immediately sprang from his eyes.

It hurts. Even his father was never able to touch him.

“Has your mother ever taught you anything? You don’t know how to sweep floors and the linens are never fully clean. Why don't I just throw you to the pleasure district with your mother!?”

Yukiko’s screams rattle him and her words punch through Suguru like rocks.

Before she could land another kick on Suguru's hunching back, the old omega who headed the servants brought the kimonos that Yukiko wanted.

Suguru could not tell the difference from the kimonos he had brought to her.

The omega bowed and handed the “blue” kimonos that she wanted and put himself in front of Suguru and the lady of the house.

“I apologize for his foolishness. I will punish him for his insolence. Please, leave it to me.”

Harshly, he took Suguru by the arm and dragged him to the back of the house. His hold on his arm was tight and it was another pain that Suguru felt.

When he finally sat on the floor of the house, the omega fished out a cloth and urged Suguru to wipe his tears.

He was only ten years old.

When the child finally closed his sobs to a minimum, the omega asked him, “What color is that?”

He points to the piece of cloth he had given to the pup.

“Huh, Wh-what?” Suguru could only sputter. He does not know what to answer and he's still afraid of being punished.

“I said what color is that?”

“I-I don't know.”

“Try.”

“I really don’t know. I’m sorry.” and with that his eyes begin to spring new tears.

How could this child not be taught these things? The servant thought.

“Suguru, this is green, okay?”

“I–yes it's green.” Suguru scrunches his nose. He’s determined to not get the same outcome from Yukiko.

“What of the one you previously brought, Yukiko? What color was that?”

“G-green?”

 

---

 

When the day was done and the moon and stars replaced the sun, Suguru walked home to the place he calls home.

He cleans up, dusts off the place, and prepares food for himself (a small portion) and for his father (a bigger portion). His father has now gone for longer trips and only comes once or twice on each cycle of the moon.

He lit the candle and waited for his mama to come home. He does not know if she will as she sometimes never does but he believes she will for the night.

The old omega did tell him to ask his mother about “colors”.

“Ask your mama about soulmates,” he said.

 

When the night went deeper, his mother opened their door and all but almost crashed her body to the nearest surface. Her eyes are sunken and her scent is almost too acrid to smell. Suguru could even almost taste the air. It sickened him. He couldn’t comprehend where her mother’s scent once was.

So he hid far from her view and laid awake as he waited for her to feel a little better. She ate the food he prepared for his father and yet she didn’t finish everything. Suguru knows that even when his father isn't there, his mom still fears him.

When his mother had finished bathing herself and was about to check on Suguru, he opened his eyes and called.

“Mama...”

His mother faced him and somehow Suguru knew his mother still loved him. Even when she looks tired, even when she sometimes looks at Suguru with contempt, he thinks that his mom still holds love for him.

“Suguru, wha-? Why are you still awake?”

When Suguru scooted closer, his face, once bathed by the night, was illuminated through the small light of the candle. His bruised face and small cut on his eyebrow were too big on the small pup.

Yukiko loved to put a lot of rings on her fingers.

His mother, shocked, could not help but run towards her son and cradle him like he was once young.

“Suguru what happened to you?”

“Mama, I’m okay, mama. I-I didn't know what blue was. Yukiko got angry.”

His mother sucked a breath.

“Mama, someone told me to ask you what soulmates are.”

 

---

 

By the moment he turned twelve, Suguru already knows what soulmates are.

Why they call people who have soulmates, “Full Spirited” and those who are mated to people who aren't their own as “Shadowed Souls”.

Suguru was colorblind. So are the rest of the people like him.

People who have not met their soulmates are all colorblind. But when they do, colors burst from their eyes. No longer is the world just black and white.

Hues and colors. It was a gift from the gods for the people’s servitude and faith. When your fangs sink to the ones fated to you, suddenly, the world isn't bleak and devoid of colors.

Suguru didn't have to ask if his parents were soulmates.

“They call them full spirited, people who have soulmates, because they’re granted blessings by the gods. They are favored.”

“And since they are favored, society favors them, Suguru. Colors dance within their eyes and their noses are better. Their omegas are more prized and beautiful and their alphas are stronger and smart. They are merchants, artisans, leaders, and emperors.”

A pause.

“They do not need to toil dirt and sell their flesh to be recognized as mere individuals, Suguru. It is enough because they are loved and are therefore worthy.”

“You were born from us, Suguru. And so you are a slave. But your soul isn’t shadowed. Find your soulmate and don't let anyone else bite your neck. To be with your soulmate is everything, Suguru. More than what society thinks it amounts to.”

“Some people just make mistakes and the world is far too cruel to give chances for us to change it.”

 

And so Suguru learned. He worked and worked until calluses formed on his hands and knees.

He learned colors. Because even colorblind, his master demands for them to know. Even when it's hard. Even when it's sometimes impossible.

But his mother taught him even when she couldn't see herself.

The leaves are usually “green”. The sky is always “blue”. Flowers come in different colors and the soil is “brown”. Gold coins are “yellow” but shiny and the red light district is strictly forbidden.

However, more than becoming a good slave, Suguru was growing. And so were his hips and the supple cheeks on his face. He was small and his scent, once devoid of anything, started to hint at something sweeter.

Suguru was presenting to be an omega and his mother cursed the gods for being so cruel.

 

Notes:

Shimabara - (once) a red light district in Kyoto

——————

Chapter 1 & 2 are dedicated to some backstory stuff and world-building so no formal Suguru and Satoru yet but the good thing is this work is finished! I've written this in the middle of December and have finally finished rewriting, editing, and worrying on it today!

Also, this is un-betaed and all mistakes are mine and will be updating this every week!

So, idk, see you next time?

Chapter 2: 白 | Shiro

Summary:

Shiro · White

 

symbolizes purity and sacredness. once a color used for mourning; death.

Notes:

Hi! I just wanted to say its kinda crazy for me to get 60+ kudos on a first chapter. Mountains away from what I was expecting so I feel absolutely grateful for each and everyone who gave kudos, subscribed, bookmarked, and commented on this work. As much as a gift this was for myself (insanely stressful) the appreciation is so good for a dopamine high.

That being said, please refer to the trigger warnings that I've added on the first chapter. I'm a little iffy with constantly repeating myself every chapter and find that for plot's sake, it'll do no good. So that's just a heads up!

And with that, here you go!

---

 

“Kami-sama? Everyone is waiting for you outside.” A servant with his head bowed calls to Satoru.

He does not answer and the servant, a beta, retreats away from the carriage.

Above the emperor who lords over Dai Nippon sits the Gojo clan.

They were said to be direct descendants of the White-Scaled Dragon—a deity, who fought and died for the land. When curses roamed, the dragon destroyed everything including itself to rid the country of curses.

Above the Gojo clan sits Satoru.

When Satoru was born, a miracle that took well over a hundred years and unsurmountable inbreeding, he was said to be undoubtedly the reincarnation of the White-Scaled Dragon.

And to some degree, Satoru thinks so. Born with Six Eyes and Limitless, Satoru can see the distance between him and his clan. More so to the common folk.

Satoru, in the literal sense, was a god walking amongst his people.

He was also undoubtedly an alpha. By his scent alone, there was no question. When he turned fifteen and presented, all of Nippon celebrated. His birth and presentation signaled a rebirth of his country—of prosperity, and abundance.

And to some extent, it could well possibly be.

But when he presented and became an alpha, Satoru was greeted with a curse.

 

Satoru has always seen colors. For the chosen one, for a god, the conditions of finding a mortal's soulmate did not apply to Satoru. The other half of his soul was never supposed to be someone he had to find. His soulmate was always supposed to be beside him. His soulmate was just as blessed as he was. Even said to be more so.

The bearer of gods.

The White-Scaled Dragon did not exist without its mate.

However, the White-Scaled Dragon, brutish and selfish in his ways, killed his mate when he purified the land. When his homeland was rid of curses, his mate was a casualty too great to be forgiven.

He did not only rid himself of his one and only, but so were the lives of their children, the next gods of a generation.

And so for destroying the divine and killing the gods he was supposed to father, he is cursed to walk the Earth without seeing faces.

Gojo could see colors but he could not see people. He could see the sky and the beauty of the land he offered his life to. But the faces of his people are a swirl of devoid colors, motion, and entanglement. Their form, almost like curses, surrounds Satoru with none as an exception.

Not even his mate.

 

He is cursed to be blind in this life and only if his soulmate finds him will he know. He is a prisoner by being forced as a mere spectator.

If his soulmate dies without ever finding him, he will continue this cycle of breathing until he ceases and he is reborn again.

There is no guarantee he will ever find him.

By that, how is Satoru even a god?

 

He tightens the knot of his blindfold and smoothens the wrinkles of his white kimono. And without saying anything, addresses the needs of his people by gracing them of his divinity.

 

---

 

Every once in a while, the White-Scaled Dragon blesses the people with his presence.

Everyone, Full Spirited and Shadowed Souls, clamors to see the vision of their god.

Suguru’s mother is no exception. She believes the mere sight of the Gojo heir will rid her of the mating bite still angry at the base of her neck.

Suguru could not find it in himself to speak against it.

And so Suguru and his mama, amongst the steady stream of hundreds, raced towards the ceremonial hall where the ceremony is held.

They braced among bodies of people and waited until the famed Gojo Satoru walked out to grace them. They arrived in the morning and only settled by night, waiting to catch a glimpse of him.

When the moon was all too bright and the stars supported its light, Gojo Satoru reveals himself and the people who fought to see him go tongue-tied. The screams of his people aching to see him seemingly die down.

Suguru feels the ferocity of his presence rows and rows before Gojo, amongst the sea of people who wanted to see him.

Even from far away, Suguru could get a faint smell of the man in front of thousands.

He was truly their god.

 

The clarity of the moment died down and a deafening scream created by his subjects echoes throughout the land.

With his mother by his side, Suguru could see the tears in his mother’s eyes as she clutched both of her hands as if in prayer.

He didn't even notice his tears streaming from his own.

 

---

 

Gojo Satoru merely graced his subjects for about a moment and exited the ceremonial hall as if nothing happened.

But for everyone, it was enough. His divinity and image alone were enough.

However, the crowd became too unruly, and twelve-year-old Suguru got separated from his mother who was too far gone in her repeated prayers.

Suguru was not familiar with this place nor could he see any familiar faces in the crowd. His scent spiked and his distress could be seen in his face.

 

After what seemed like hours, a stranger approaches him.

“Hey, pup are you lost? I think I know your mother.”

Suguru has been pacing for an hour, running in circles around the place. He was desperate and he couldn't mask the distress in his scent. 

He needed help finding his mother. Anyone who could help a shadowed pup like him would be welcome. Anyone.

Suguru was too naive to suspect him of any ill intention. He also could not scent him properly, his distress too pungent for his nose to smell anything else.

But this man was an alpha.

“Hey, you need your mother, right? I can get you to her. I saw her going in there, by the woods.”

He crowds Suguru. His hands itching to snake its way to his…anywhere.

“Really?”

“Yes! I’m Takeshi from Shimabara. I know your mother, you can smell her on me!”

Afraid but desperate to find his mother, he tries to smell the man. And truthfully, he does smell her on him.

Suguru was young and in distress, his memory blinded by his desperation to feel his mother's embrace. He remembers Shimabara, the way it rolls on someone's tongue and the familiarity of the word he associated with his mother. 

He didn't think much of it. He only wanted to find her.

Suguru was desperate; he wanted to be with her and go home. If having to listen to this man would lead him to her, Suguru did not have to think twice.

“I saw her come here, just follow me.”

And with that, Suguru followed.

 

---

 

The sight of faceless people crying and screaming for Gojo was too much. It irritated him.

Satoru is a god. There is no debate whether he is. If he wanted to, he could burn or bring this place to glory.

But he never claimed to be benevolent or good. These people simply found misplaced salvation in him, at the image and power he represents. And yet, Satoru could not care less.

He walked out of the halls and walked towards the garden.

No one dared to stop him, no one dared to ask.

Satoru has only ever found peace when there is no one around him. No reminder of the curse he has to bear in his life and no reminder of the emptiness and burden he has to carry.

A sin he could not remember but felt all too well.

Gojo feels like a haunted man pretending to be a god.

 

He strolls towards the garden, towards the lake on the prohibited side of the lush forestry.

Satoru couldn't help but think it's beautiful.

However, the serenity of the place is broken by a shrilling cry and a scent so bitter and sharp it almost smells like a dying man.

With light footsteps, Satoru peered towards the scene unfolding in his eyes.

What he sees truly enraged something within him.

 

---

 

Suguru followed the man towards the forest and towards where his mother was supposedly staying.

The man said she saw him here, praying still to Gojo-sama.

The man also told Suguru how he was a friend of his mother and how sweet and kind she was. How familiar they were to each other. 

However, the longer the walk was, the more Suguru could feel the presence of the man beside him. His hand is slowly inching on his waist and his scent is starting to turn into something so vile that it's starting to clog his nose.

 

But by then, it was too late to do anything.

When they stepped into a darker path of the forest, the man suddenly pushed and slammed Suguru towards the bushes and clamped his mouth shut with his hand.

He pushed Suguru so hard that Suguru felt his whole body jolt at the impact. It hurts and a crushing weight is on top of him that Suguru feels like air could not reach him. 

All Suguru felt was panic, a fear so palpable that he could not see through his eyes.

The man pushes his nose in Suguru’s head towards his hair, his voice filled with such vitriol.

“God, you are a walking temptation,”

Suguru could do nothing but whimper as this man all but drags his hands everywhere in his body. Suguru could do nothing but violently shake as tears begin to clump in his eyes.

“You truthfully look like your mama. But I’ve used her too many times.”

He tugs on Suguru's kimono and violently rips through it.

“I'll be taking you right here and right now. See to it that no one will hear you. I'll bite that neck of yours and claim you. Fucking slut just like your mother.”

At the mention of his neck, Suguru thrashes wildly at the implication.

No, this can't be. This can't be happening to him.

He—he wanted to find his soulmate.

Suguru couldn't help but thrash with all his small body could afford. He twisted and turned, trying to get this man off of him who's starting to move his hands lower. Suguru feels like he's being burned, Suguru feels like he's dying. 

No one will help him, no one will come find him.

 

But before the man could do worse, a presence so menacing entered. It felt like all air was sucked out of the garden.

When he looks up, Suguru sees Gojo Satoru in the flesh mere meters away from him.

This Gojo was so terrifying it shook Suguru to his core. His presence frightened Suguru. But the god did not seem to see him. His attention is directly zeroed on the man on top of Suguru.

Seeing the god in front of him, Takeshi flies away from Suguru like he's being burned.

“Oh my, Lord! It-it is not what it looks like! This—this child! He has tempted me to take him! He was using his scent to lure me into the woods. I am a victim! Please, believe me, Kami-sama!” Takeshi whimpers and kneels towards Gojo, scrambling to take conviction on the state he was found in.

However, it only seemed to anger Gojo as his eyes brightened like lightning.

 

(Suguru could see it faintly. This blinding light, at its core, was what they called blue.

If Suguru was not blinded by the fear that is coursing through his veins, he would take notice of how this is the first time he’s seen a color.

And how miraculously, without ever seeing it before, Suguru knows it's blue.)

 

“Your scent stinks of the omegas you have defiled. Do you think you can fool a god?”

Takeshi could do nothing but cower and pray this god would take pity on him.

“Ka-Kami-sama! T-t-take pity on me!”

But Gojo Satoru, this god in front of Suguru, did not have any mercy to show on his face.

Hand extended, and before Suguru could even react, the figure that was once Takeshi had vanished from Suguru’s sight like he was never there in the first place.

Everything that was him, even his scent, was nowhere to be found.

By his side of the lake, the calmness of the water was disturbed with the thicker and darker liquid spreading throughout.

(He would one day learn that it was Takeshi’s blood. All that was left of him.)

 

Suguru couldn't help but look at him– at his god. The terror he once felt has vanished and is replaced by gratitude. His god saved him. Suguru's kimono is torn and the night breeze is freezing but it does not matter. All Suguru could feel was gratitude and relief.

This type of kindness did not go past him. Not when kindness is so rarely afforded to shadowed souls. Most especially to those above them.

Suguru didn't think he was worthy of being saved. By a god, more than anything.

He was frozen in his spot but all Suguru wanted to do was thank him.

But he stayed still. The signals his body is giving are not indicative of what this god truly feels. He is still an intimidating figure. His actions need no mercy or reason. Gods do not need either.

However as Gojo Satoru flicked the stray blood that had somehow managed to land close to him, Suguru’s body moved on its own.

To touch and feel the god who saved him.

He could not even think of the consequences. Gojo Satoru was not meant to be touched. But it was as if his body had needs and rationality was not with him.

Suguru knows when not to touch, not to look, and when not to speak. Slaves do not have rights for any and all. He was beaten too many times to not know about it.

But looking at this looming and massive god that could well possibly kill Suguru if he wanted to, Suguru did not care. 

 

---

 

People think gods are saviors but gods were never told to be kind.

Gods were told to have dominion over everything and possess powers that mortals do not deserve.

It is only ever within that god to make decisions they see fit.

Scums like men who take and take do not deserve to breathe the air Satoru also breathes.

As he wipes the blood that found its way to him, the presence of the pup came into his view.

Swirls of black and white are on his face.

All the same.

 

But this kid did the unthinkable and crashed into Satoru. Hard.

This pup rushed to Satoru and hugged him like his life depended on it. Satoru can even feel the heat of him being alive and the puffs of heavy breathing that disrupt the air around them.

Satoru can't remember the last time someone has been so close to him. 

Mortals are not permitted to touch him. He did not want mortals to touch him. But this kid, who clutched him so tight and whose dirtied face is buried in the kimono he’s wearing, Satoru could not think to be cruel or anything.

And for the first time, Satoru acted like the god the kid thought he was.

 

With his hand by the pup’s exposed shoulder, he told him, “Fix your kimono and run to the path you once took. No one will touch you. Your mother is waiting for you. She is by the trees on the right.”

The kid somehow clutched him harder.

“Sa-satoru-sama, thank you. I am indebted to you, ah–,”

The pup looked up to him, breathless. And somehow, the emptiness he felt within his chest felt tenfold of what it usually is.

And so he turned his back on him and said, “Go now.”

And for Satoru, it was like nothing ever happened.

 

---

 

Suguru did not want to let go but slaves like Suguru knew when to stop. He knew when punishment or consequence was imminent.

But he could not stop thinking about the hand that touched his shoulder. His mind stopped for a moment and could not think of anything else.

When the god turned his back on him, it was a good enough indication for Suguru to go and run.

 

But his body felt off. Running, even walking, was too tiring. His eyes began to water and the skin where his shoulder was touched felt too hot like it was burning.

It descended everywhere in his body.

Moving was, at most, unbearable.

But no one touched him as he ran. A path guided him to the sight of his mother, whose tears soaked her flimsy clothes. 

When he got closer to her, he all but crashed into her and found her tears abruptly stop when she took the sight of her son.

When she took a whiff of her pup, his scent was different. Too sweet. An alpha’s scent was also on her son’s skin.

It was so powerful. Too much.

“Mama,” Suguru calls to her, and the undeniable slick seeps through his clothes.

She wanted to cry. His son is an omega.

 

They walked—run home, her body like a shield to ward off anyone who might think of getting close to her son who's starting to shake from the changes in his body.

She can't help but sob looking at her son. Why? Out of everything, why an omega?

Somehow no one touched or saw them.

 

---

 

Suguru’s heat lasted three days.

Within those days, he thrashed and called out for his mother who stayed with him.

He was bedridden and hot, his body changing—forming a womb his little body had to handle.

Within his entire lifetime, Suguru had never felt pain like this. Even the flimsy and makeshift nest his mother hurriedly made did not do anything to ease the pain. Slick coated his thighs, his fangs leaving bloodied marks on his lips and tears a forever waterfall in his eyes.

His sobs echo throughout their busted home and even the hard hand of his mother against his lips could not shake the pain and whimper his body lets out. 

He wanted everything to go away.

But other than the maternal need to call for his mother, all he could think about was his Kami-sama.

Kami-sama, Kami-sama—

S-sa-t-ttoru.

He remembered the man in the forest and the piercing eyes that he had. He somehow knew that those eyes were blue.

It was blue, so blue. He wanted to see it again.

 

Throughout his heat, the image of his god gave him comfort. All he could think about was how Kami-sama saved him.

How he wanted to say thank you to him.

Worship him.

 

---

 

When Suguru came out of his heat, he was undeniably an omega. His scent did not make it a secret.

With that, his mother became paranoid of him.

For all the right reasons. The world is just too cruel.

Suguru was not comfortable with his body and the newfound changes he could see. 

His scent was sweeter, his hips, a little wider. His teeth had formed little fangs and his body felt vulnerable. He wanted to be pampered and taken care of. 

But that's not what slaves are built for. Even omegan slaves were built to be tough. 

 

When he walked to the Tanaka’s, he could feel eyes following him and the scents of the people who came too close to him. It made him feel sick and disgusted.

“Suguru, you presented,” the kind omega greets him and then pauses, “I think it's best if you go home.”

“Huh, w-what? Did I do something wrong? I won't do it again, please.”

“No-no, but Takeshi hasn't come home and Yukiko is in hysterics. It's best if you go home.”

Hearing that name again made Suguru freeze. He remembers the dark, the way Takeshi gripped him, and the way he's no longer alive.

Kami-sama killed him.

“I think…I think you’re not needed here anymore, Suguru. Go home before it gets dark. Run. It's not safe for young omegas like you out there.”

 

After this, his mother has not left his side and Suguru has not gone out, either. His mother never questioned or asked why Suguru does not work anymore nor does Suguru ask why she hasn't come to the red light district.

It was just them. All Suguru needed was his mother.

 

---

 

A loud bang woke Suguru up and the strong scent of his father assaulted his nose.

“Where’s my fucking money?!”

“I go home to this dingy busted hut and I see you cozying up like you’ve got no debt to me!”

A crash.

“Kenjaku, stop!” his mother screams. 

More than the powerful scent of his father, presenting has given him a better nose to understand what is happening.

His mother’s scent, once that smelled like home, once that once smelled like disease with all the alphas that took her, now smells of true fear.

Suguru has never smelt her fear this pungent. 

“Why?! You–you think you can live like this? You’ve got tired of whoring yourself out, is that it?”

Another crash, another bang. 

 

Suguru could not bear his father’s words and chose to make his presence known. As he tries to shield his mother from the brunt of the assault, the bottle his father was waving smashed into the shoulder his Kami-sama held.

It was painful and Suguru couldn’t do anything but hold his tears.

But it made him visible to his father, his attention now directed towards Suguru. 

“Ah, is this it?”

His father sneers, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Your little bitch turned out to be an omega and you thought it easier to whore this bitch out? I’ll give you that, you’re smart.”

“You know what? Why don’t you both work in Shimabara? You’ll both fetch a good penny there.”

“Have you rented this pussy out? I’ve got friends who’d give spare change for this bitch,” And then he kneels. He looks Suguru in the eye and twirls the long locks of hair cascading from his head.

“You smell good, Suguru. I might taste you out first.”

 

---

 

As Suguru can recollect, it was all a flash.

Before Suguru could even react, his mother jumped towards his father.

“Augh–Ack!”

The image of his mother—Suguru couldn’t even begin to describe it. She looked and smelt different.

Things happened so fast that Suguru didn't even see the knife his mother had procured out of thin air.

Suguru couldn't react fast enough. So had his father.

 

His mother slashed his father in the neck and stabbed him right on his mating bite. Blood splashed on her dress—on her ragged, tattered dress as it flowed on the floor.

She didn't react as his father clawed her, as his garbled mouth tried to speak from the blood that overflowed from his mouth. Not even when his hot breath is close to her face. It's as if nothing dealt a bigger blow than what he said.

She stabbed and slashed on every skin that she could find. Her tears flowed on her skin, clearing a path from the blood that had splashed on her face.

When the scent of his father was drowned by the scent of his blood, his mother didn't stop. Her body shook with all her strength from the force of the blow she gave to him.

For a moment, when his mother was done and the death of his father stunk up the place, she knelt close by his body and just stared into nothingness.

Her ragged and deep breath shook her small frame.

She didn't move, didn't even make a sound. She looked at peace. 

But to Suguru, the scene was enough for chills to shoot through his exposed skin. His eyes were wide with what he had just witnessed.

Kenjaku's dead.

But even though his mother just murdered his father, her whole body red with his blood, Suguru can't help but ask for her. 

“M-Ma-ma,” Suguru managed to whimper.

Somehow the sound of her baby (always her baby) broke her from her stupor. Suguru has managed to wedge himself in a corner of their home, almost trying to blend in by the walls with how much he's forced himself on the small space afforded to him.

His mother beckoned him to come over and that he did.

Suguru looked up at his mother, at the tears and blood on her face. She raised her hand to caress the supple cheeks of her omegan son. Somehow, Suguru was not afraid of his mother. All he wanted to do was comfort her.

His mother cleared the hair on his face and caressed him some more. His father’s blood smeared on Suguru’s face.

In the short moment he and his mother had, clarity took over his mother’s face.

This life is truly fucking awful.

“Suguru, mama is sorry,”

“Mama is sorry you’re an omega, baby. You shouldn’t have been.”

His mother rubbed both of her wrists where her scent gland can be found and caressed and spread her scent on Suguru’s neck. As if his mother’s poor attempt to scentmark him could cover the stench of the dead body beside them.

His mother looked at Suguru and resolution looked clear on her face.

Their life will always be hard.

She just killed her mate, treason in the eyes of her motherland. She has sold her body enough times and still, she couldn’t feed her son. She couldn’t protect him from leering eyes and…

Suguru will have to go to the red-light district. That is the fate that the gods have given his son. Because that's all there is for him to be.

Flesh.

In the clarity he saw in his mother’s eyes, Suguru thought that they were going to run. Leave and run because she just killed someone-an alpha. Run and hide together until they can leave all of this behind.

They were free from him. Wouldn’t that mean freedom?

 

But it was already over. 

Suddenly, his mother clamped her fangs where his son’s mating bite should be and bit hard.

So hard that it ripped his nape off.

Before he could even scream from the pain, his mother had clamped his mouth shut and both their tears surged like rainfall.

He’s confused, he’s in so much pain.

He’s bleeding so much.

“I’m sorry, baby. This is for the better. Mama loves you so much”

He can hear his mother's sobs, her scent gut-wrenching as she tries her hardest to soothe him.

It doesn't work.

"Kami-sama will protect you, okay? Sleep now."

With that, he passed out.

 

---

 

When Suguru woke up, he was still bleeding.

His mother was dead by his side, a clean slice on her neck. 

He looked at the window and how the sun was slowly rising.

The scent of the scene will undeniably travel to town. When they see what happened, they’ll blame it on Suguru. Because he was the only one left alive.

And as an omega, Suguru knows about the life that awaits him.

He’ll be sold and all he can do about it is open his legs.

He had no choice but to leave.

And so he ran.

Notes:

Dai Nippon - Great Japan
__________

So there's that for chapter 2! I'm a little excited about uploading Chapter 3 since that's where the plot actually thickens and their story starts. So I hope this chapter was good enough to peak your interest lol

Anyways, any interaction this work is getting is highly appreciated by me so thank you!

Chapter 3: 紫 | Murasaki

Summary:

Murasaki · Purple

 

historically reserved for the nobility and royalty; a color of luxury.

Notes:

Can’t believe I’m already uploading Chapter 3! Also, insanely happy to be getting in the 100 kudo mark! Funfact! The last fanfic I’ve uploaded here took 6 years to get to 100 kudos lol. I was soooooo young back then but still! So happy with the amount of attention this work is receiving.

Anyways enough yap, here you go!

---

 

Suguru is now twenty and seven.

He has run from his past, away from the nasty and bitter memories that haunt him.

Now twenty and seven, Suguru has been passed off from master to master. Like some commodity.

When he was twelve, his mother tried to kill him because that was what she probably thought was kind for Suguru, an omega.

And in some ways, in some fucked up reason, she might have been right.

But Suguru didn't die. And miraculously, he woke up even after his mother tried to sever his neck.

Now twenty and seven, Suguru doesn't look like an omega.

When his mother damaged his mating gland, he changed. He grew bigger—too big for any omegas, and his scent always smelled hostile, rotting, and of decay.

Gone were the days he was told to be beautiful. Now, Suguru looked like any other shadowed soul bastard. Even worse, with a damaged mating gland. Like he was mauled.

He was disgusting.

But Suguru wants to give his mother some consolation. Maybe, even with all that, his mother did what was best for him. Better than being passed off by every alpha and beta who could see him.

Better than to live the fate given to his mother.

Suguru, though omega, looked like a run-down beta, even close to an alpha.

No one knows that Suguru is an omega. He was too much of a walking contradiction. Even having a pussy didn't indicate he was. No one got close enough to know, let alone look or touch.

With that, Suguru worked as a slave, even worse than it was before. Since he didn't look like an omega, his work wasn't for omegas. He worked with alphas and betas, on labor-heavy jobs that demanded him to plow fields, butcher animals, and carry or drag logs, supplies, rice, stones, anything.

His servitude entailed being kicked, punched, and whipped. All because people thought they could and can.

But Suguru grew tougher skin. He grew stronger hands with hard calluses and was able to withstand and grit his teeth through battery and beating.

Gone were the days when he cried and cried because someone comforted him because he was an omega. Suguru doesn’t look like one, therefore, he isn’t.

He’s not an omega.

 

 

But he was an omega. Suguru still was. No amount of denying it would change anything.

When his heat hits, thrice every year, Suguru would quietly leave and find some shed. Some place, some run-down tent, away from everybody, and spend his days agonizing and writhing with slick leaking out of his pussy.

It shames him. How he still acts like an omega when he doesn't look or smell like one.

When he's not pretty. When it is impossible to desire him.

It shames him to get naked and see his own beaten body. He finds it sickening and painful when he has to trace the plains of his body and he’s not soft to the touch. When all he is are wounds and hard muscles.

It shames him when he needs to move from place to place and that all he has for his nest is the tattered clothes he could bring. It shames him when the scent that spreads in the air smells like vomit, when he doesn't smell like the pretty omegas who are treated like princesses because they smell amazing.

It shames him to gingerly touch his folds and swirl his fingers inside himself, to still long to be touched and cared for. To whimper when his voice is so low. When he wants an alpha to spend his heats with. To be filled.

It shames Suguru to his core.

Because Suguru was an omega.

And more than anything, he wished he was like other omegas.

But more than anything, shame hits him like no other because of the name he longs for, to the name he screams.

Blasphemous.

“Hah-ah, Ah~Kami-sama,” he would moan, his lips open and his eyes unfocused.

 

When Suguru presented, the image of his Kami-sama, of Gojo Satoru, was innocent. He needed the vision of his god to soothe him from the changes in his body. From the awful thing that happened to him when he was almost bitten.

But as he grew older and his body matured, he could no longer suppress the way his mind works. Most especially during his heat when all he could think about was to be filled and bred.

His pussy would throb and feel empty. Slick leaking from his body as if it was ready to be pierced.

His legs would be wide open, pussy inviting. But only to his Satoru-sama.

Only him.

Suguru knows he should stop it. His devotion has become something so twisted and sinful that he cannot be redeemed. That his actions are essentially evil. But suppressants are the only thing that works to sever the last thing that makes Suguru an omega and he can’t afford suppressants.

The good ones, full-spirited omegas hog. The ones he can afford, if he toils and breaks his body working, make him infertile.

Suguru should take the chance to finally free himself from being an omega. To free himself from the desire that swirls when he moans the name of a god. With the broken mating gland he has, he might as well do it.

He doesn't look like an omega. He can't act like one. Why suffer being one when it cannot be afforded to him? When it weighs the sins that he has to carry?

But deep inside him, he wants nothing more than to be a mother, to have pups, and to have a family.

Suguru would’ve loved being an omega had he been fortunate to have a life where he could be one.

But he can't. And so against rationality, he braves his heat alone.

 

When his heats are done, shame would hit Suguru like a ton of bricks. No amount of repentance would absolve him from desecrating the image of the White-Scaled Dragon.

But it would happen heat after heat. Suguru’s sin is too much to bear at this point.

His desire was disgusting and revolting. The idea of his person, backward and unsightly to look at, would want a god was too much.

When he comes back from spending his agonizing heat, his body would be in pain and aching. He'll receive punishment from his masters because he cannot be found and his pheromones always turn worse than it already is.

After he is kicked and whipped, Alphas and betas would sling their arm on him, their tone insulting and full of jabber.

“Got you some good omega from the red light district? Were they any good?”

Suguru would grit his teeth and suck up the disgust he feels when alphas and betas cling to him. His omega wants nothing more than to be away from the predators that are too close to him. But he can't do anything about it. All Suguru could do was laugh and say he did. That he enjoyed himself to some back-alley, cheap pussy from some poor omega that he fucked and that he’s tired.

They'll laugh and ask Suguru for more, but he'll say he's tired and he could only hope they'll leave him alone.

After that, Suguru would usually be sold off again.

 

---

 

Suguru is in Edo.

His new master, the new one he was sold to, was a man named Yaga.

He was a full-spirited man. His other half, dead. Therefore, his colors are slowly fading.

Suguru’s job is to carry and transport crates upon crates of textiles.

Yaga is an artisan and he was better than most of Suguru’s masters. He did not care for Suguru and so did he. But he did not treat his workers like dirt.

Yaga fed them and most importantly, he didn't break their bones because they were tired or because they needed to rest.

Suguru even has a shed all to himself, far away from the others.

He’s fortunate. He didn't have to stress going into heat in some dusty run-down place or in the forest.

This was, for a long while, the best Suguru’s life has been.

 

---

 

When the sun was hot and work was just like any other day, a carriage stopped by Yaga's property.

It was ornate and expensive. It didn't even look used. Even though Suguru couldn't see colors, he could see how bright it is, how it clearly belongs to a wealthy clan member.

As slaves gawked at the new shiny thing outside their master's land, an old man went out of the carriage and motioned for a servant to come close and ask for Yaga. His stone-faced look made it urgent and important.

When Yaga caught wind of the arrival of a visitor and saw the man, he straightened his back and walked a little faster than he usually does.

He welcomed this man through his home and spoke in hushed voices.

But Suguru was close by their quarters, his work finished and was given a small reprieve before work started again.

“The Gojo Clan is asking for a servant in Kami-sama’s estate.”

Suddenly, all Suguru could do was listen to their conversation. His hands fly to his scent gland, careful to give away his position and the knowledge of him eavesdropping on a conversation so important.

“What happened to the one before?”

“They died.”

It made Yaga pause, his next words careful.

“All I can offer are slaves. Why a slave, then? Haven’t you found a replacement from one of the clans?”

“Kami-sama wants to prevent any idea of favoritism. He isn’t impartial to slaves, as well.” His voice clearly disapproves.

A pause.

“It is urgent and thus, the clan cannot stall Kami-sama’s instructions. Finding one would be too much work for the clan. We will buy one from you and pay you handsomely for the disturbance.”

“There is no need if it is for the White Dragon,” Yaga answers, but the man does not seem to care.

“That's good to hear. Well then, the clan will not employ any alpha or omega to be close to his divinity," the man drawls on. "Alphas are too much to work with and omegas...well, the clan won't approve of it."

"We will take a beta, granted they can work well and without mistakes. His almighty does not take well to too many servants in his home. They would need to do most of the work themselves.”

“Understood. But most of my servants are alphas. The other beta I have is too old. She wouldn't be of any use to him.”

“And of the other?”

Suguru’s breath hitched, his heart beating erratically. There are only two of them who are “betas”.

“Ah, yes, him. You can have him. His name is Suguru if my memory doesn't fail me. I've only gotten him last year but he works well and can guess basic colors. Does not speak and does not say no.”

“We will take him.”

However, Yaga hesitates.

“But his scent—it is not pleasing. It may not be good to give him to the Dragon.”

The comment stung Suguru. The way it was cruel when even Yaga was trying to be kind. But it is true. People have always told him that his scent is unbearable. That it is rancid and foul. But it hurt nonetheless. Yaga’s callousness in his remark made Suguru grimace and squirm.

Will Gojo Satoru find Suguru repulsive? Just because of his scent?

No. He will find you repulsive in everything you are.

“We will take him. Kami-sama’s nose does not play favorites. It takes all and accepts all.”

And there, their conversation ended.

 

When Suguru was told he was sold again. Yaga did not mention to whom.

To what person, to what family, to what clan, to what god.

But Suguru knows.

He was told to pack his things, of what little he owned, and to board the transportation given to him first thing in the morning when the sun rises.

 

The night before his departure, Suguru could not think properly.

The piling sins he has committed against his god are unforgivable. His shame eats at him so terribly that any of the ceremonies honoring the White-Scaled Dragon, Suguru has spent locked in any place he could find. He chants long, repetitive prayers to repent his crimes while his pants grow wet even when he's not in heat.

But Suguru could not find it in himself to say no to Yaga. To the invitation of finally meeting the god who once showed him kindness.

Truthfully, he has no power to decline. But Suguru could have run, could’ve taken the beating of trying to say no, of having little shame by being so eager.

So Suguru turns and turns in the shed that was given to him. He has never experienced a bed and yet the cold floor feels like punishment. All throughout the night, Suguru forsaked sleep and prayed.

When the carriage greeted Suguru the next day, he told himself that he was only there to be a servant. To say thank you and pay the debt he has of him.

 

---

 

The ride to Gojo Satoru’s domain took a day and a half. It was situated high up the mountain, closed to the public, and highly private.

It was in the opposite of the Gojo Clan’s property which sits in the heart of Edo, close to where the emperor and his family resides.

The god's home was nestled in the lush forestry of Edo and is surrounded by cedar and pine. When the carriage came closer to see the entirety of its details, Suguru could not help the way his breathing felt stuck in his ribcage. Gojo Satoru’s estate was so beautiful and pure. It was like without dirt and sin.

Suguru felt nervous coming in.

When they had to continue by foot, a meandering pathway greeted them with lined stepping stones that led to its entrance. The domain was shaded by towering trees on each side and was just as enormous as it was beautiful. It was gated but open. No one would ever dare go near a god’s domain uninvited.

Entering the estate, Suguru had never been inside something more beautiful. It truly looked like a place where a god could reside.

Before he could take his next step, a beta woman greeted him. White hair.

She did not waste any time and told Suguru what his job as a servant entailed.

The estate had a main hall, a tea room, a garden, and a pond. It has seven private quarters. One for a servant’s quarter, the remaining ones unused, and one for Satoru himself.

Suguru is among four other servants who work in the estate. A cook, a gardener, a guard, and another attendant.

They are to work in the morning and leave when night comes and lay in the servants’ quarters separated from the estate.

“You will help maintain and clean the estate. When the others leave for the second servants’ quarters, you must stay and take care of Gojo-sama. You will adhere to any demand he will ask of you. Any.”

“Never speak unless spoken, never look directly at him, and never dare touch him. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

 

---

 

During Suguru’s first week. Satoru did not let his presence be known.

Suguru would not know what a god would be up to.

He has also acquainted himself with the attendants of the house.

Ijichi was the gardener. He was young, so young, but youth seemed to be absent from his face. He, however, made it up with his passion for gardening and the pond he took over. It was his only job and it paid him more handsomely than his previous employers who cracked his ribs when he stuttered.

He has never caught a glimpse or talked to Satoru.

Haibara was the cook. He was a bubbly, full-spirited beta who fed all of them. Mated, cared for, and loved. Suguru would often see him with a Samurai, an alpha named Nanami.

“I thought the clan wouldn’t work with an alpha?” he once asked.

Nanami looked at him like he knew his secret. But Suguru knows he doesn't. Somehow, Nanami’s eyes looked like it knew.

“I am mated and I keep to myself. That’s all that the clan wants.”

He kept the estate secured. More so for the servants who work there and less for Satoru himself.

And then Shoko, the attendant. Shoko was not necessarily good with her work in maintaining the estate. She was better at being a physician more than anything else. She was kind and so beautiful. The smoke from her tobacco would usually reveal where she was.

She treated Suguru kindly.

All of them did.

Ijichi would teach him about the plants in the garden and talk about the kois that he feeds in the pond. Haibara would feed Suguru food that he hadn't tasted or known. He talks to Suguru for hours and always makes it a point to tell him the colors that he can see. Nanami, though silent, has built some camaraderie with Suguru while Shoko has become a friend to Suguru he never thought he’d have.

They were all from prestigious clans. They were born from Full-Spirited parents and are highly educated. They were picked by the Gojo clan because they were the best of the best.

But even when they could’ve been cruel to Suguru, they did not look down on him when his presence clearly spoke of being a slave. Of the whip marks on his back and wounds on his body. They did not comment on his scent, and if they noticed it—smelt badly of it, they didn't let Suguru know.

They didn't say anything about his mating gland, either. But he has seen them stare. Yet somehow, Suguru can feel it out of concern and not of disgust and revulsion.

They know Suguru can never be mated with.

Suguru knows as well.

 

---

 

"When will Satoru-sama come?" He asked one time, offhandedly.

They're all huddled at a table, eating a meal before the night spreads throughout the forest. They're eating Haibara's cooking which is so good, Suguru doesn't think he's ever tasted anything so rich and delicious.

He can't help but regret the words that just slipped from his mouth. He didn't mean to ask them. Suguru doesn't want to come off as desperate. But he's curious. And more than anything, Suguru wants to know.

It was Shoko who answered him.

"We don't know."

"Huh?"

Suguru cannot help the puzzled look he's giving them.

"Shoko-san is right, Suguru-san. The last time Satoru-sama was in the estate, it was many moons ago. He might not come until the next spring comes." Haibara supplies.

Suguru can't help but wonder as questions pour from him.

"But how come?"

Again, it was Shoko who answered him.

"We just don't know. Satoru-sama is not fond of this place. But we know it's the only place he calls home. He leaves and comes when he wants to. We have no place to ask or be curious of where he can or might be."

Shoko's words made him blush, his head downturned, embarrassed by the fact that he asked when he wasn't permitted to do so.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

It made Shoko smile, a little smirk coming from her as she puffed from her cigarette. "It's fine, Suguru. There's no harm in it. Take it from us who've been here since we were children."

"Children?"

"Yeah, Nanami was Satoru-sama's friend growing up and I was the daughter of Satoru-sama's caretaker when he was just a pup. We've been here ever since Satoru-sama left the clan village. Haibara came when Nanami found his soulmate and Ijichi was the newest one who came before you."

"Does that mean you're close with Kami-sama?"

This time, it was Nanami who answered him.

"No, it was a long time ago. Before Satoru-sama even presented. He was just a pup back then, just as we all were."

An unbearable silence filled the table; no one was brave enough to speak. Somehow, Suguru felt guilty for being curious enough to ask.

For a moment, no one moved, no one even took another bite of the food. But before it could feel anymore suffocating, it was also Nanami who cleared it.

"He will eventually come, Suguru-san. Our history as children is all that it is, history. What burdens him is not something we are privy to. Mortals cannot possibly share the burden he might carry."

 

When they finished eating and the night swallowed the sky, all of them except Suguru trekked away from the estate and onto the servants’ quarter adjacent to Gojo’s. Suguru is left alone for formalities' sake and because the Gojo clan has begged Satoru so.

They said the previous attendant died. They didn’t know how. Most of them just couldn’t deal with it.

The estate would usually be too quiet when the moon made its presence. And yet, its serenity is too beautiful for fear to creep up on Suguru, even when the silence is sometimes deafening.

Sleep does not come easy to Suguru. His life, too good and too kind when it rarely is, makes Suguru feel suspicious of it. He hasn't gone a day hungry and his work is scarce and light. He even has a bed that is warm and clean.

Suguru feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

So he roams the estate even when night falls and cleans and cleans with knees on the floor so it scrapes, so that it sometimes feels painful. Life has not afforded him kindness and peace and so Suguru does not know how to receive it.

On these nights, when he’s all alone, he can’t help but feel guilty. He’s lying in the face of the people who accepted him. Even to a god who has never even seen him. He’s an omega even when they think and assume that he is a beta–a disfigured one. When he is skinned and when he is presented to the gods on his deathbed, Suguru is still an omega.

He would stare and get lost on the ceiling of his quarters, thinking of the punishment for the sins he has committed. For desiring the skin of his god, for lying and being complicit in his secondary gender being a lie, and for being selfishly here to be close to his Satoru-sama. It weighs on him until his tears begin to soak his pillow.

But as guilty as he is and as honest as his tears are, it still doesn't stop him from committing it. For that, Suguru thinks there is no amount of kindness he will ever be deserving of.

So he scrubs and scrubs until the sun peaks again from the mountain.

 

---

 

When his Kami-sama first came home, it was raining hard with thunder crackling in the background.

Suguru was in the main hall making sure nothing got wet when a scent so powerful knocked the wind out of him.

Like pine, like sandalwood. Of the earth, of rain, of something so strong and powerful.

Like an alpha and like a god.

Suguru could not think properly. He couldn’t even move. So he stayed in his position, brush forgotten on his side as he knelt with his face flushed on the floor.

For all his god could probably think, Suguru is an intruder, a stranger in his home.

His body couldn't move, tense and restless.

But Suguru couldn’t deny the thrumming and pounding of his heart—of knowing that his god is so close. It conflicts within Suguru that even the strength of the hurricane couldn't win against the deafening sound of his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart. Even his neck is itchy of something he could not name.

Suguru had no time to think or compose himself when the god walked closer to him.

The shoji screens shook as the rain strengthened.

“Your name.”

“S-Su-guru, Kami-sama.”

There was a momentary silence that enveloped them. His god observing the hunched and shaking frame that is Suguru.

When he spoke again, it broke Suguru’s heart.

“Ask Shoko to mask your scent.”

And then he left.

And Suguru…Suguru had to pick up his pieces before morning came.

 

---

 

When Suguru had to swallow his pride and ask Shoko in the morning for herbs, He couldn’t look Shoko in the eye as she passed them into his waiting hands.

“Take this and drink it as tea. It will…lessen your scent,” Shoko said, her voice soft like a whisper and her hands incredibly gentle against his.

“You can also…heat some and patch it into your neck so it doesn’t leak out.”

“Thank you, Ieri-san.”

He averts his gaze and fiddles with his hands. He usually loves spending time with her, but he's not willing to bear any second of this conversation that humiliates him; rejects him.

“Satoru isn't usually like this. Don't take it personally, Suguru,” she says and continues, “It's hard to understand the way gods think.”

And Suguru thinks, no. It really isn't.

Notes:

Edo – Former name for Tokyo

_______

Poor Suguru 😢

Anyways, thank you for all the kudos, subs, and comments I’ve been receiving. More than writing this (and the pains of trying to edit this) I lovvvvvveeeeeee replying to comments and thinking of what to reply (lol)

Hopefully, I’ll see you guys next time I’ll be giving you guys Chapter 4 with shaky, unstable hands. Mwahhhh!

Chapter 4: 水色 | Mizuiro

Summary:

Mizuiro · Light Blue

 

a representation of serenity and clarity

Notes:

HI! I know this chapter is kinda late from what I promised but as I read my draft for chapter 4, I realized it was incredibly ill-written, like you can clearly know I was too eager to go to the yk, exciting part lol. That's why I had to basically rewrite everything and add more to what was already sitting on my laptop.

That being said, OMG can't believe I'm already hitting 200 kudos on this fic, and thank you for all the interaction I'm getting on this. I looooove reading comments and thinking of what to answer you guys always makes me laugh honestly.

Anyways, have a taste of Suguru's inner turmoil lol

 

---

 

Life in the mountain continues for Suguru.

Suguru’s life in the estate is good; his routine is predictable and unchanging.

Every day, before anyone is awake, he boils his own water and brews the tea leaves for himself to drink. The tea is incredibly bitter and hard to swallow, but he drinks it religiously and never forgets to take it.

Suguru showers close by his own quarters and takes his time to soak in the cold water all to himself. He feels clean and soaks in the idea of being alone. In the small and silent moments where he’s naked and the refreshing water hits his head and trickles to his feet, Suguru feels like an omega that doesn’t need to hide.

No pretenses, and no horrible scent that affects him or others. He’s an omega and he just is.

When he notices the sun beginning to rise from the surrounding trees, he goes back to being a beta and a servant. He doesn’t leave his quarters without the patches in his neck nor does he take it off with the other servants around.

He cleans up after his quarters and opens all the doors of the estate. The wind rushes and the morning breeze whispers a song that makes the once lonely place feel a little better.

He dusts off the estate and by the time the sun shines to its peak, Suguru can see from the distance the faces of the people who will once again share the space he occupies.

Throughout the day, Suguru cleans. He dusts and sweeps the floor, washes and folds clothes, does errands, helps around the place, and strikes up conversations with others whom he has grown close with.

Suguru is contented.

Suguru is being fed, something he didn’t have even on a good day. His bed is comfortable and warm, there is no dirt, no broken wood, and no beta or alphas to be aware of. Ever since his stay, there was no need to defend himself and tighten his body for a beating that might come.

Life in the mountains is pleasant. Like a gift.

But sometimes, when Suguru has to pass in front of the god’s door, Suguru remembers the first and only conversation he’s shared with him since being his servant.

“Ask Shoko to mask your scent.”

It plays on his mind like an illustrated book. It makes Suguru remember every detail of it. From the way the moonlight illuminated a shelf in the corner, from the flowers atop which only looked dark, less dark and light to him but nonetheless beautiful, and how the rain started so softly, the pitter-patter of the rainfall like music until it became harsh and unrelentless.

He remembers the position he was in, the way his knees were heavily planted on the floor, the way his kimono was slightly open, and the way the wooden texture of the floor looked when it was all he could see from his point of view.

He remembers and replays it day by day, like a haunting he can’t escape. It makes his chest heavy. The words of the god, without concern and without doubt, a truth he didn’t need to think twice about.

“Ask Shoko to mask your scent.”

Even the god couldn’t bear him.

“Suguru-san! Is it ready?”

And usually, in his daydreaming, he’d find himself planted in the same place where he stopped. In the hallway, just small steps shy from the door of his god that is always closed.

“Yes, yes! Coming, Haibara-san!”

And Suguru usually goes on about his day.

 

---

 

Satoru-sama comes and goes.

Sometimes, he stays only for a moment and then leaves for days. It is never with warning nor with any notice.

When he does return, it is always at night after the others have left and before Suguru sleeps. Suguru greets him with a bow, just like he always does and Suguru can feel the strong presence of the god sniff and smell his pheromones.

Without any acknowledgment, the god would usually proceed to his quarters.

And with that, Suguru’s routine continued. On nights when the god isn’t home, he waits for his Kami-sama like an omega would to his alpha, like a wife would do to his husband. He waits diligently, his feet planted on the place where he first received him. But instead of elation, Suguru feels the deafening sound of his heart beating, at the anticipation if the god will ever come home or not, or will he break Suguru’s heart with a momentary glance or word on his pheromones.

 

---

 

“What does Kami-sama usually ask of you?”

“Huh?”

It's windy and the sun is caring in its warmth. Black and white linens (all that the both of them could see) billow in the air as it hangs from the clothesline. Laundry has taken half of their day and finally, hanging these linens gave them a small reprieve to bask in the sun and the wind it carries. It's just the both of them.

“When he calls on you for anything at all. What does he usually ask?”

Shoko drags the cigarette from her mouth and puffs a smoke away from the cloth that she’s hanging.

Suguru wants to ask why Shoko is so fond of her cigarettes and if Satoru-sama has ever given her permission to do so. But then again, he’s never there when she’s on the premises of his home.

“You do know that we leave when he comes home, right?” she replies, clipping the light-colored linen. (Suguru knows its light from the way the sun hits it. It's thin and light. Probably a yellow or an orange)

“What about before? When the previous attendant was still here? Did he ever call for you?”

Suguru feels like he’s pushing it, the way he keeps on pushing Shoko to answer who just seems disinterested in answering his queries.

But he wants to know.

Shoko, thankfully, thinks nothing of it and answers.

“Haven’t,”

“Wha—Shoko-san?”

“I mean, he’s never asked for me. I don’t think he ever did.” Shoko answers, still not looking at Suguru as she proceeds to do her duties and fish out more linens in the basket.

“Ever since I can remember, I haven’t exchanged words with him. He’s never asked of me and he’s never called on me for help or anything.”

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“Then, what about the one before me?”

She dragged a long inhale from her cigarette and let it carry out in the wind before she answered.

“I don’t think he’s ever talked to that girl, either. I don’t think he’s ever talked to anyone ever since. We rarely cross paths enough to exchange words,” Shoko says, her attention still on the cloth she’s hanging.

“That’s what he wanted. That’s his orders. If the clan doesn't have any hold on him, he would live in these mountains alone.” She says and continues her work.

A silence passes them for a moment. The both of them not having anything else to say about one another. The only sound coming is from the wind meeting the linens, the cicadas, and the soft tweets of the birds.

A beat, a moment passes and he opens his mouth.

“Then, should I still be here?”

“I don't do much around the estate. There’s not much to clean from a home that houses no one. I worked like a dog before I came here and now all I do is wait when he’s not home.”

His hold on the damp linen tightens.

“I…I’m imposing on the clan’s kindness. I should do more work than what I’m doing.”

More than the haunting memory of the god’s words to him, Suguru is haunted by his position in the estate.

He reasons within himself the purpose of serving the god who was kind to him. To be by his feet and be his slave. Better than being anyone else’s slave, Suguru dreams of becoming the god’s slave, to be used by him in ways that make his existence have meaning and purpose.

Suguru sees his bloodied knees beside his god as repentance. It is the only way he could see salvation.

But even in his home, Suguru feels at a standstill. His position as a servant in his god’s domain doesn’t give him the avenue to do what he thought he could give, can deliver.

Suguru feels like there can be more, there should be more. But there’s a tall, tall wall that looms over him. The closed door of his god is more than a metaphor that he cannot break.

With that, Shoko finally looks at him. She gives him a look and gives one final drag from her cigarette as she throws it on the ground. The small fire it has is immediately put out by the dampness of the grass.

“Why do you think that?”

He doesn’t answer, he’s thought of the reason countless times in his head, but then again, sharing it with Shoko would be careless.

He can’t bear his soul like that.

He looks at her to find her eyes on him already.

“That’s what you’re here for. All that you said, that’s the work they wanted you to have.”

“If he doesn’t ask for your help, you’re here for the slight possibility that he will. If all you do is wait on your knees for him to come home and not do anything at all, that’s what you’re here for.”

“And you’re not imposing on the clan. Clans are rarely kind Suguru. Take the most out of it.”

“Take the most out of it?”

“Yes, take the most out of it. Do nothing and eat their food, use their water, sleep in the house they reserve for their god that they can’t even step foot on.”

“You’re doing what you’re ought to do, Suguru. And if you live in the mountains never talking to the dragon, then you’re doing what they just want.” Shoko gives him a small smile. “That’s what the god probably wants, too”

“Don’t think too much about it. We’re happy you’re here.”

Suguru can’t help but smile at Shoko.

“Thank you, Shoko-san.”

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s finish these before Haibara thinks we’re ignoring his food.”

Suguru can’t help but chuckle as his movements become a little faster.

With that, work was finished earlier than both of them expected.

 

---

 

Suguru’s conversation with Shoko replays in his mind ever since. It gave him peace knowing that he was doing what he’s supposed to do. That the others wanted him there. That the dragon not acknowledging his existence ever since the accident was okay.

If it is what the god wants, who is Suguru to ask for more? To ask for servitude when it is not what the god wants?

Maybe, Suguru will find repentance by doing just what he is doing.

He’s okay. This is more than what he deserves.

And so, in the passing days, he takes his routine in stride. He wakes up, cleans, and waits. When he can feel the presence of his god, there is no more nervous shake in his body. The anticipation he always feels has slowly died down when Suguru finally realized that the god doesn’t see him and therefore, isn’t worthy of any attention.

And from the last interaction they’ve had, Suguru thinks it is for the better.

 

---

 

For a while, Suguru’s routine gave him peace and reassurance.

But one night, when his knees were pressed so tightly on the floor and there was nothing different from the other days when his forehead touched the smooth surface, his Kami-sama came home.

And there was nothing different at first, from the way the dragon came home, ignored him, and left Suguru for his room. This was routine. It was the routine that Suguru expected.

But as he greets his Kami-sama with the very same words he always utters, Suguru can’t help but notice the stronger pheromones of the dragon. The way it stays and lingers.

The way it feels closer.

His knees start to feel the strain of his posture, the unnatural arch of his body becoming too hard to maintain. Suguru cannot hear the sound of the doors closing, a sign that he can finally stand and move to his own quarters.

The god is still here.

Suguru can’t help but feel nervous again. His legs feel unsteady and his breathing starts to quicken as his eyes dart to his surroundings, a limited offer from where he’s positioned.

He feels his pheromones seep out and all he can do is pray that Gojo-sama would leave for his place in the estate.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, Suguru can feel him inching closer, his footsteps heavy and silent at the same time. He stops close to Suguru, just inches shy from his hands up above his head, his fingers firmly planted in the plains of the wooden floor.

The dragon’s words feel foreign to his ears.

“Leave a glass of water before my door.”

And with that, Suguru can feel their distance widen as the god’s pheromones slowly cease to clog his nose.

When he was sure he was the only one who occupied the space in the main hall, his body couldn’t help but give out and completely lay on the floor.

His heart is pounding and his god has talked to him again.

 

By the morning, Suguru woke up earlier, his actions a little more careful and animated. If he was asked, he wouldn’t know the answer to it.

When his daily ritual was done and the leaves that block his scent are attached to his nape more carefully, his kimono flutters with his action as he slowly peeks through the hallway of his Kami-sama’s quarters.

He knows no one will see him in the early hours of the morning, but he feels shy like he shouldn’t peek at all. For whatever reason should he look?

But the glass of water Gojo-sama asked for was now gone.

Against rationality, it made Suguru happy.

 

---

 

With that, Suguru started to hear his Kami-sama’s voice more. He also stayed more, if only for a few more days than he rarely did before.

He asked for Suguru sparingly, for his assistance and presence for the most mundane things.

Sugru was only happy to serve him.

Suguru feels like he’s finally fulfilling his purpose. That the promise he has to himself in repaying the god’s graciousness is now being satisfied. And though he took Shoko’s words to heart, Suguru can’t help but find more purpose in being at the beck and call of the head of the Gojo clan.

And Suguru knows he likes the idea of being contradictory to Shoko’s words.

“I don’t think he’s ever talked to that girl, either. I don’t think he’s ever talked to anyone ever since. We rarely cross paths enough to exchange words.”

And so, Suguru basked in the small attention he was afforded with. And on each night when the estate is silent but his god is home, he got to his knees and prayed harder and harder.

With the stronger need to touch, his prayers were more vivid, more desperate.

And for the most part, Suguru thought it worked.

 

As the days pass, the dragon who usually leaves his estate has been staying for far longer than he usually does—longer than the days Suguru thought his Satoru-sama was willing to spend in his home.

As Suguru observes, Satoru-sama’s days are simple. He stays in his room in the morning and when night falls, he usually stays in the engawa.

Satoru-sama does not ask for Suguru in the morning. His existence is as good as nothing when it is morning and there is no place to hide secrets in the rays of the light. But at night, Suguru would be a call away from the god. To take care of whatever he pleases, whatever his whims are.

He would stay from a safe distance and never come without being told. He never looks up, never touches, and only answers with a yes.

And Suguru thinks he’s doing something right.

Satoru-sama would ask him small things, to fetch him water, to tidy his clothes, to light up a candle, to get him a book.

His Satoru-sama has found purpose with Suguru, his presence being asked more and more than he could dream of.

It made Suguru happy, so happy.

But it also made Suguru compliant.

Sloppy.

 

On nights when the deafening sound of silence is all he can hear and his god is so close to him, Suguru indulges.

Suguru looks and basks in the proximity. With this newfound comfort that his god has found in Suguru’s likeness, Satoru-sama has asked more of him.

The more his Satoru-sama calls, the more he desires him.

It makes his heart race, his skin clammy, and his breathing more airy and breathless than usual. His hands, which cannot touch his god, would slightly shake, not because of fear but because of anticipation.

Suguru should know better than this, know better when nights ago, he found solace in understanding his god does not like his scent, does not like him.

But Suguru is fucked in the head.

Even with his pride shattered, his infatuation is still strong as it reaches for a god that has rejected him.

For an omega, scents are important. It indicates their value and their worth to society. It is most especially true for an alpha they want, an alpha they wish to mate with. It tells if they are compatible, if their pups would be strong and beautiful, and if the alpha they want could be the soulmate destined for them.

With finding one's soulmate a complete gamble to fate, a person's biggest bet is to lead with their nose.

If your scent is not good and desirable, what good is an omega?

Suguru’s omega is broken. His omega couldn't recognize the broken body it resides in and continues to desire what little they could possibly have.

His omega wants an alpha but only to a god who cannot be touched. His omega desires an alpha, but to the one who finds his scent unbearable.

Sometimes, it makes Suguru feel like he’s being cursed.

His omega cries to be cared for, it cries to be seen and acknowledged. And Suguru is too tired to consciously fight what they both truly want.

When he thinks no one is looking (no one is ever looking at night), Suguru would sometimes peek at Satoru in the eyes and try to find his soul amidst the bindings.

Suguru knows he shouldn’t but he cannot help it. Can’t help himself.

Covered and yet all-knowing, Suguru risks being exposed and suffering the wrath of a god. Suguru can’t help himself and foolishly goes with the compulsion and tug that he feels. It urges him to reach out to the god so close to him.

Like an invisible string that needs to be followed.

A need, a want, a primal urge.

It has come to a point where shame and guilt are not enough to deter him anymore. Like clockwork, Suguru would forget his repentance, would forget the sleepless nights he dedicated in order to stop such twisted devotion.

When he is close to his Satoru-sama, he would linger a little longer. And if he could, he would subtly and softly brush his fingers in the kimono of Gojo Satoru if only to make it look like an accident.

When there are no other eyes that could see him, Suguru borrows steals.

It is without reason and only impulse. When he is alone, he would see a piece of cloth lying around, linens that have just been used, and clothes that need to be washed. It would catch his sole attention, bothering him throughout the day. It tempts him like it calls to him.

He would find himself gravitating closer to it like how he gravitates to the god. It always smells strongly of his Satoru-sama. Just smelling of something his omega always wants to drown in.

When his restraint is nothing but a string of thread, Suguru would whisk it away with shaking hands and hide it in the neatly piled clothes from a cabinet on his bedside.

It always paranoids him, a crime he committed in broad daylight, in the house of the god of Nippon himself.

Every time he does it, Suguru would be fidgety, his actions stilled and cautious.

But he’s never been caught. When night comes and Satoru-sama has permitted him to rest for the night, Suguru would bow and slowly tread towards his room, his footsteps light and brisk.

When the door closes with a soft click, he would steadily fish the silks from its hiding place and shakingly caress it. It always smells of his god and Suguru’s whole body shakes from having it so close to him.

Even with the crystal clear distaste his god has for his scent, Suguru’s body does not care and ruts in the scent of the silks that he has stolen. He would roll on his bed, his nose buried in his Kami-sama’s clothes, and seek what little pheromone is left on it.

Suguru would always feel lightheaded, his eyes hooded with desire. His hold on the cloth would tighten in the same way his thighs would close tight as if it would stop the slick starting to leak from him.

In his fantasy, Suguru is small enough because the dragon is big enough to take him. He always imagines the towering body of Gojo-sama to envelope his frame. His hands would snake to Suguru’s hips and hold until yellow and purple bruises formed. His kiss, alluring and forceful, makes it a point to tell Suguru that he is a worthy object of his desire.

He imagines–wants to be filled, for his pussy to be taken and his womb filled. He cries to be plugged with the seeds of his Satoru-sama. To be worthy enough to have him. To be enough that even Suguru in his current body would be worthy enough to be touched and caressed.

Loved and desired not in spite, but because of.

In Suguru’s painful desires, Satoru is messy and sweaty. He is only imperfect in Suguru’s eyes. Their bodies would melt together and Satoru-sama–his Satoru would reveal his eyes once again and look directly at Suguru and still love him.

When Suguru’s pussy is spent and his slick is everywhere (on the silk, on his person, and even on the desperate attempt he has at a nest), Suguru can imagine the blue in Satoru’s eyes.

The ones he’d seen when he was young.

Blue.

(Sometimes Suguru can imagine it when he dreams)

When tears pour from him after, Suguru could sometimes admit to himself that it is only to momentarily soothe him and his omega. Never because he won't do it again.

 

---

 

The night is deep and Suguru hadn’t slept.

Last night, he laid awake until the sun started to rise and work had to be delivered. He stared at a spot on the corner of his bed or stared at the open window he chose not to close.

The night was chilly and his bed was comfortable. Nonetheless, Suguru was kept awake by his thoughts, a constant cacophony of guilt that could not be kept at bay.

Suguru always hates how he feels whenever he does it. Even a simple prayer would be something he cannot do. 

And so as he follow Satoru-sama, Suguru’s eyelids flutter with the need to sleep. His footsteps are always careful with the distance he has from the god, even when his steps feel unsure.

Satoru-sama would later give Suguru a signal to sleep, just like he always does. Suguru's duties would be over for the day and his guilt would not eat his entire body. He could finally rest from the inner turmoil that feels like constant punishment. Today would be like any other day.

But the dragon's words never came.

Suguru stops in his tracks when the figure of his god’s back faces too close to him. It is only then does Suguru understand where he is.

Suguru has never stepped foot in this part of the estate. It is an extension of the room reserved for the god, to the wing which he allows no one to enter.

Suguru knows he can’t proceed. This is where his duty ends, where the figurative and literal walls that the god has are made to separate him from others.

But there is no indication for Suguru to leave, to bid goodbye to his god and rest.

He’s frozen in a spot where he cannot move.

But his god, like he can read him, opens the door and says,

“Close it as you enter.”

And all Suguru could do was slide the door shut with a click.

 

Notes:

OHOHOHOHOHO I wonder what's gonna happen next (hehe)

As always, thank you for the kudos and comments this fic is receiving! I hope I can post the next chapter in a flash but then again, I have to kind of fix it because I was impatient. Whatever, I'll absolutely work on it because you guys give good dopamine.

Chapter 5: 青 | Ao

Summary:

Ao · Blue

 

a visual for coolness and cleanliness. a symbolism of passivity and fidelity.

Notes:

Hi! I was going to actually post this on a later date but I just simply couldn't wait! That being said thanks for the comments, kudos, and interaction this work is getting. I feel like im sounding like a broken record but I truly do appreciate it!

Anyways, short chapter note here you goooo

---

 

Suguru is alone with the god. And though this has happened many times before, a routine they’ve played many times, Suguru feels trapped in a situation he cannot escape.

Suguru doesn’t know what he did to get in this situation or why he’s here.

This part of the estate is for Satoru-sama and Satoru-sama only. If it weren’t for the many warnings of the Gojo clan member who repeatedly told him he is not allowed to enter, Suguru would still not step foot here.

This is simply not the part where mortals are allowed to enter.

The soft running of the water’s stream is calm, and yet it does nothing to the slight shake in his hands, concealed through his kimono even though there are no eyes on him.

It’s beautiful but Suguru cannot find it in himself to appreciate its beauty.

Then again, the knowledge that he is stepping into a section of the house that has only ever seen the dragon feels daunting. His person doesn’t belong here.

But here he is, and it's just them.

The onsen is spacious yet private. It is part of the estate but partially open. Suguru can see the trees from the side, open. He can even see the cliff where the estate is built upon. It is without a roof and the walls that partially covered the place are lined with expensive and intricate wood.

The water ripples in a steady pattern and the stream of water is calming as it falls on where it pools. The steam, coupled with the light of the moon, makes the place dreamlike.

It is beautiful, it is serene, and it is intimate.

Suguru feels like he couldn’t breathe right.

His chest rises and falls with the soft violence of a caged bird. Each of his breaths is like the soft flapping of wings that want to be free, all inside a cage which is his ribs.

His breath crawls out to his lungs and leaves with a shaky exhale.

Suguru’s eyes trail to his Kami-sama’s figure, his footsteps sure and steady as it moves towards the water.

Suguru looks to his god from a very safe distance, close to the door. When he clicked the door closed, Suguru was not sure if the next space he would hold is permitted to him.

The distance between them is big and yet too close in the confined space. All Suguru could hear is the sound of the streaming water and his heavy breathing that rings in his ears like drums.

He feels like time is frozen in this place.

But what Suguru feels is unknown to the god. All he can do is wait for anything that might come out of his mouth and obey it.

Always obey it.

As he fidgets in his spot and sweats through his kimono from all the steam and heat of the place, Satoru-sama never took one look at Suguru nor did he say anything.

The god walks toward the waters and treads carefully towards the center of the spring. His kimono, light in color, slightly darkens as it touches the waters.

He sits on one of the edges of the spring, his kimono clinging to his body.

Suguru cannot help but stare. He knows he shouldn’t but he cannot help when his eyes wander. Suguru blindly and innocently trusts that when the god has his bindings, Suguru can look, that he can steal a glance.

Deep inside of him, he knows it cannot be the case that a god so powerful and all-knowing would not know when he is perceived.

But Suguru takes the chance of his ignorance as a way to blind himself to what might be true.

And so he looks. He takes a shy peek at the way his god sits, at the way his god just exists.

Satoru-sama is huge.

The waters only reach above his pelvis, which means that nothing blocks Suguru in watching. The kimono clings to him and his sleeves wade into the water. But more than that, Suguru can see the way it clings to his chest, and how it is slightly open.

Though onsens and bathhouses typically drown the scent of others close to nothing, all the steam seemed to do was amplify the scent of his god. Suguru has no words to describe it other than it makes Suguru’s thighs press tightly together.

And like in a trance, Suguru couldn’t help the sudden jolt he feels when his god speaks.

“Come here.” Straight, simple, without question.

It breaks Suguru out of his thoughts and obeys with his forehead angled to the floor. His footsteps are light and unsure but as he comes closer to the spring, it stumps him even more.

What is he supposed to do?

Suguru doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be in the spring or if he’s supposed to wait by the rocks that encompass the onsen.

Sensing his hesitation, his Satoru-sama motions for him to get in. As he raises his feet to the water, Suguru can feel the comfortable temperature as it clings to him.

When he takes the first step to walk closer to the god, Satoru-sama’s words ring clearer than the first time he spoke to him.

“Crawl,”

For a moment, Suguru feels his heart miss its own rhythm of beating. Against what is expected of him, Suguru's eyes widen and accidentally raises his head to look at his Kami-sama. When he realizes his open disobedience, he quickly looks to the floor with his hair falling in front of him.

Crawl, he was asked to crawl.

Suguru wants to think he misheard, that it was a product of his crazed imagination, but against the silence there was no mistaking it.

He could not look head on to the god, nor could he speak. What can Suguru do than follow?

Crawl, crawl towards him.

And so with a hammering heart, Suguru gingerly bends towards the waters, his hands reaching to the floor. But before his hands could feel the ground beneath him, his Kami-sama spoke again.

“Look at me and crawl.”

Chill runs through Suguru’s spine. His heart feels like a drum, the beating of his heart erratic and unstable.

And Suguru does look at him with beady and innocent eyes. Satoru-sama is looking straight at Suguru, his expression without anything to give Suguru a piece of understanding.

The words that come out of the dragon’s mouth are spoken with finality. Suguru has no reason or right to argue; to say no. All Suguru could do was obey. With his shaky legs, he let his knees touch the bottom of the waters.

In all fours, with his face trained to the god, Suguru crawls.

The waters are shallow as it only reaches to Suguru’s forearms. Suguru’s kimono is drenched and it feels heavy on his skin. It clings to his body and though the waters are warm, Suguru’s whole body shakes; his movements are so slow that it feels like a mile before he could reach closer to where the god lies.

His breaths come deep into his lungs, his chest rising up and down. Suguru wouldn’t notice but his lips are parted, his breath like smoke into the onsen.

When he is in front of the god, Suguru cannot help but avert his eyes down into the water and the ripples it makes. Suguru cannot find it in himself to gaze at his Satoru-sama, the way he’s so close that he could almost touch him.

Suguru cannot understand the fluttering of his heart.

But his open defiance of the god’s commands was not something Satoru-sama would let.

A hand reaches to him and all Suguru could do is clamp his mouth shut over the whimper his omega lets out.

The god’s hand is under his chin and his grip grounds Suguru to reality. His god is touching him. All of a sudden, all Suguru could see is his Kami-sama.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

Suguru shivers, his body giving a reaction he could not hide even if he wanted to.

“Open your mouth and speak to me.”

“N-no, Kami-sama,”

For a moment, all the god did was look at Suguru; scrutinize him. Suguru feels dissected, he feels naked.

The hand that held him vanishes just as quickly as he felt it and the god leans on his back, his head craned to the sky. He leaves an exhale and says,

“Undress me.”

Suguru feels his heart sink at the bottom of his stomach, his Kami-sama’s words being so much harder to follow right after the other. Suguru could feel his heart race even more, his breathing shallow and quickened.

But he swallows the lump in his throat. Suguru is obedient, and obedience is all he could offer.

With shaking hands, Suguru kneels in front of the god and catches the string that holds his god’s kimono. He pulls it apart and starts to glide the kimono off his god’s abdomen. It sticks to the dragon, and Suguru’s shaking hands make it harder for him to part his clothes without touching his Kami-sama.

When the Kimono is halfway undone, Suguru can feel eyes on him, an intense presence that Suguru could not help but be consumed by.

“Bathe me.”

“Sa-Satoru-sama?”

But there was no repetition coming from the god, no need to clarify himself. His silence was all Suguru had to hear to know that what was asked of him was not a request but a demand.

And who is Suguru to say no?

“Satoru-sama, I don’t, I—”

A strong grip catches his wrist and Suguru can feel his god’s hand on him. He pulls and Suguru cannot help but feel like he weighs nothing when he falls closer to the god.

His hand is guided to Satoru’s arm and Suguru feels like a mess.

“You can,”

"Use what you have."

It made Suguru gulp.

His hands start to caress the god gingerly and softly. Suguru’s movements are short and repeated, his hands ever so careful. He cannot help the shake in his hands, the way his light touches are borne from his nerves, and the way his god affects him.

Even with the bindings concealing Satoru’s eyes, Suguru knows it's not enough. Knows that what he’s doing is not what the god wanted. Suguru can’t help but realize the position they both have—how it looks like. It makes his body stiff, aware of how he’s so close to him.

Suguru desires him so much that he knows it's not hard to tell. A faith so strong and so twisted that it has turned the divinity he looks up to into a yearning and craving that he could not control.

Suguru never thought he could touch or be so close to him right this second.

He glides his hand to his Kami-sama’s chest and feels the up and down motion of his chest breathing–of how hot it is that Suguru feels like he’s burning inside.

Suguru can feel him. The way in his godhood, his Satoru-sama still feels so human. He breathes and his lungs rise and contract. He feels warm to the touch. He feels alive, he feels real.

It is different from when Suguru dreams.

Suguru knows that his Satoru-sama is looking at him, knows when his gaze is so heavy. It makes Suguru nervous. He feels like he’s been caught up in his desires that have been nothing but an open secret.

Suguru knows he can see right through him. It makes Suguru nervous, his movements a mirror of the push and pull of his desires and constraints. Suguru feels a burn so great inside of him that he couldn’t notice the shiver that wracks through his body from the water that clings to his skin.

But Satoru does, Satoru notices.

A hand snakes to Suguru’s thighs and stays. It makes Suguru stop, his breath hitched as all he could utter is his god’s name in a breathy exhale.

“K-Kami-sama,”

“Go on,” Satoru urges.

Suguru feels like he’s being punished.

Suguru continues, but he feels light-headed, he feels on fire. His breathing is stuttered and his lips are clamped shut from the whimpers that he could not let out.

The god’s hands slowly move to Suguru’s exposed skin. His hands gingerly letting the cloth slip past Suguru’s shoulders, exposing him so unbearably slow.

Suguru is trembling so much that even the heat seems bearable than the way Satoru is intimately touching him.

Satoru’s hands carefully untie the ribbon of his soaking kimono and Suguru doesn’t know if he should stop the god from further undressing him.

With a shaky exhale, he let his Satoru-sama fully undress him, his body fully exposed to the man he adores.

The last piece of Suguru’s clothes are gone and he’s entirely naked in front of Satoru.

Suguru can feel his Kami-sama’s hand on the small of his back, his body being slowly pushed closer to his god. His god leans closer to him, his lips almost pressed to Suguru’s ears.

“Did you know that I can hear you?”

“I could hear you at night and how you fail to whisper my name,”

Suguru can feel the air leave his lungs as if he’s been punched. His blood ran cold as the god’s words sank in. All Suguru could do was gaze up above his Satoru-sama and feel his heart break as he realizes what the god knows.

But his Satoru-sama is heedless of the turmoil and dread that Suguru feels. The hand on his back moves upwards, his fingers lightly tracing Suguru’s spine. It makes his body quiver and shudder, the ghost of the touch like electricity on his skin. Suguru cannot reconcile the hunger and fear that his body both feels.

“Hmm, Suguru?”

Suguru cannot help the tears that well in his eyes. The way his lips are parted and wobble to explain; to say he’s sorry, to plead.

But he can't and all words that could absolve him don’t slip past his lips.

The situation is so overwhelming to Suguru that he can't help the tears that fall from his eyes, the way his sobs bubble out of his lips and turn into hiccups. There's no place he can hide; he has no reason to explain.

“Kami-sama, I’m sorry, I—I'm not supposed to,” Suguru sobs.

His Kami-sama looks at him and pulls him even more. All Suguru could do is follow through his tears, too distraught and overwhelmed to realize that he’s now fully sitting on his Kami-sama’s thighs and he’s naked.

And how his body has never been not honest to himself.

“There’s no need to cry, Suguru,” his god says, his body now flushed to Suguru. His god wipes his tears and his pheromones envelop the whole onsen. A hand snakes to his stomach and Suguru can feel it ghost painfully close to his pussy. Suguru's god is so cruel that he knows Suguru wants him.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

Suddenly, the god starts to move. Through Suguru’s tears, he can feel his pussy glide into his Kami-sama’s thighs. The god’s hands are planted on his hips and he’s moving Suguru like he weighs nothing.

“I could hear you at night, Suguru. There’s no need to close your mouth right now.”

“Kami-sama, please, I—, can’t, I’m–I’m not supposed to touch you.”

Though Suguru’s tears are endless and his guilt so deep, he can't help the honesty his body reveals when his pussy begins to seep something wet and sticky.

Suguru is flushed into his Kami-sama’s chest and the friction of their movement makes Suguru delirious. His Kami-sama’s pheromones fill his lungs and Suguru cannot help but lose himself in the alpha who’s holding him right now.

His eyes roll to the back of his head and his mind is hazy with the pleasure he’s having. He can feel his pussy slick and Suguru can’t help the way his omega feels so happy right now.

“Who told you so, Suguru?” His Kami-sama asks while his hand holds Suguru’s thighs apart, his hand so painfully close to Suguru’s cunt.

“Why would you listen to any of them?”

Suguru can’t reply, incoherent with his whines. He cannot help the desire that pools in his stomach and the way Suguru feels himself getting wetter. Suguru can’t think straight, and for the life of him, he doesn’t know if he’s trying to get away from the god or if he’s melting into him.

“Hmm? Whose words are above mine?” He asks and bucks into Suguru.

“No one, Suguru. No one.”

Suguru’s tears run from his cheeks and all he could answer to his god is the pitiful whimper that escapes his lips.

But it is true, no word is above a god.

Satoru’s words are far superior to any clan member’s reminders. And so when he flips Suguru so that his servant is flushed to his back, his Kami-sama’s hands move to his abdomen and slowly move downwards to his pussy.

“Ahh-, Ka-ka—Kami-sama, please~”

Suguru can't help but moan as the god’s hand slowly trail towards his cunt. His stomach trembles and shakes as Satoru’s long hand gingerly brushes against tufts of hair from his pussy.

He is teasing Suguru, punishing him.

“I didn’t know betas have cunts, Suguru,” Satoru mouths on his ears while one of his hand now cups the entirety of his pussy, stroking his folds. Teasing, stroking, deliberately making Suguru a mess.

“Do they all taste as sweet as you?”

As the dragon touches his flower, Suguru could not help the sudden jolt of pleasure and arches his back. His moan is so loud and unmistakable that his hands fly to cover his lips to stop how loud he’s already getting, at how much he's moaning—at how good he feels at this moment.

“Kami-sama, I can’t think strai—Hah, ahh–AHh~”

At this point, Suguru doesn't even know what he's saying, or if the garbled, incoherent mess that he’s saying makes sense. Suguru’s too lost in pleasure to use his head.

Skillful fingers push inside him and Suguru can feel the hardness that is pressed on his back. It feels so big and heavy that Suguru wants nothing more than to feel it inside him.

He's unknowingly and shamelessly moving his hips to feel it more and Suguru wants it so much, so so much.

He rocks back and forth, his head falling on the shoulder of his god as all he can speak and moan is his name.

“Sa-satoru-sama, Hahh~Ah…Satoru–ahh-sama”

Suguru has never been touched by somebody. Has never shared a heat or mated with anybody. He was too shy and ashamed of how he looks or how his scent can be sniffed to share that part of himself.

He was also too devoted to his Satoru-sama. The idea of someone else doing this to him makes him nauseous enough to be sick. He was ready to live just feeling pleasure from his own hands—to experience release in the confines of his own room so that the shame of wanting to mate is a secret all kept on his own.

But at this moment, Suguru cannot help but open his legs and moan. He cannot help the way his body responds to his touch, the way he chases his pleasure like he deserves it.

“Open your lips and scream for me.”

As his body rushes to catch his own release, Suguru sheds all pretenses of not wanting it or any of the guilt and shame he feels for desiring his Satoru-sama.

When Suguru came, only from the fingers that played inside of him, he couldn’t help but wantonly want more.

 

---

 

After what happened in the onsen, Suguru did not know what to do after.

His mind races with a million thoughts and his body tingles with the ghost of his god’s touch. His heart beats with a rhythm he has never experienced before. He cannot begin to understand the reason for it.

Suguru cannot silence the fear he feels, the pungent and permeating fear of knowing he has touched the god.

Suguru, in his short amount of time of serving the Gojo clan, has broken all rules that were given to him.

He could not begin to understand what happened in the onsen, could not fathom the consequences he might have to deal with. His Kami-sama has now known what Suguru does behind closed doors; punishment at this point would be mercy.

But Suguru also can’t deny how his body feels alive, how his omega is happy, so happy.

Suguru can still feel the memory of his god’s touch, the warmth of his body and the way his voice sounded against Suguru’s ears.

He lies on his bed, naked in all but a wrapped blanket. Suguru can trace the tenderness of his skin where his Kami-sama held him. He can see the darkening of his hips from the bruises that his god left for him.

Suguru can remember the ghost of his Kami-sama’s fingers inside of him, from the way the alpha’s pheromones drowned all of Suguru’s rationality and all he could do was cling to him, beg for him.

His whole body thrums with the knowledge that the alpha he wanted touched him. His omega purrs to its newfound attention and he feels sated. Suguru could not deny how he longed for it, how much he secretly wanted it.

Suguru spent the day after what happened with a lightness to his feet. His whole body is spent yet he feels alight with a buzz.

He spent the day after in a daze and counted the seconds til the sun sinks to the sea. Suguru could feel the fear in the back of his mind, of the anticipated agony of punishment he might receive.

But more than that, more than the pain of what might happen, Suguru shamefully yearns to experience what it feels like to be an omega again.

Of what it means to be desired, of what it means to be held by the alpha he wanted.

When the sun set, Suguru’s goodbyes to the others were clipped and hurried. His movements were clumsy and he darted from place to place with an adrenaline he cannot expel.

He tried to be pretty, tried to be presentable. He picked among his kimonos and chose the one that fit him best. He held the kimono given to him by the clan, something he didn't wear because it felt so beautiful; so expensive. He brushed his hair until it felt smooth and shiny and Suguru drank his tea twice within the afternoon.

In the back of Suguru’s mind, he finds himself being a little crazy. He brushes his kimono to make it crisp and he can notice the way he’s letting go of himself; the way he’s acting soft. The way he’s acting like he wants to be treated.

If others could see and understand the way he’s acting, they would find his actions psychotic and deranged. The moment he closed those doors, he started to pile his errors and unveil his immorality.

It didn’t matter if he couldn’t say no to a god, or if he couldn't because he wanted it. It didn't matter. The mere fact that it happened is enough to make Suguru a sinner.

But Suguru, with lungs full of the euphoria, cannot deny the actions of his omega right now. If all Suguru could do was to give in and drown in the illusionary idea that the god would let him fall in his arms again, who is Suguru to deny it to himself?

If the small desire of Suguru to be treated like an omega is fulfilled by his god, who is Suguru to deny himself? To turn down something he has cried night and day because life has not been kind to him?

Suguru is not without sin and so he sins.

 

---

 

When the night devoured the skies, Suguru sank to his knees and waited for his Kami-sama to call on him.

Suguru’s heart thundered within his ribs. He can hear the beating of his heart and feel the sweat that beads on his forehead.

Suguru takes his place on the floor as he offers himself to the god and to whatever he wants to do with him. Suguru will accept anything—any punishment, any consequence. He just wanted to be called on; he just wanted to see his god.

He waited for what seemed like hours when mere moments had passed. When the doors opened, Suguru could feel the pheromones that only a god could ever have–could smell the dragon’s power and the way if he wanted to, the dragon could decide to end him here and there.

But Suguru’s omega likes it–likes the idea of the alpha being so strong and powerful. His omega couldn’t fathom being on the other side of his god’s fury. Couldn’t imagine it when Suguru knew better.

Suguru hears no footsteps coming from the god, and yet he can feel his pheromones like it binds and beckons Suguru towards him. He kneels and waits, but there was nothing coming from him.

It made him nervous.

As another act of defiance, he raises his eyes to meet the god’s gaze, something that he wasn’t allowed to do. But what is another sin for a sinner like him?

His god is leaning on the door, like he’s waiting for Suguru to come to him; to make a decision.

Suguru can feel the unspoken words between them.

“Come towards me.”

Suguru could not mistake the small amount of slick that dampens his folds.

When he took his first step to the god, he left his kimono on the floor.

And he crawled, like the way he crawled in the spring. He crawled and that’s all Suguru wanted at that moment.

Notes:

tmi, this chapter was so hard to write like wow. it is so hard to write horny, repressed characters. Anyways I hope you liked it and ill see you on the next chapter! Mwah!

Chapter 6: 黄色 | Kiiro

Summary:

Kiiro · Yellow

 

happiness.

Notes:

Hey...hey, how y'all doing *ominous music*

I apologize for how late this is but college simply got in the way and I wanted to post this before I get busy again huhu. I also wanna say thank you for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc.! It really helps me to keep going and insert the time to aggressively stare at my laptop so I can get two grown men to kiss.

Also, a quick disclaimer that's been bothering me, in this story, beta's can either have a yk and a yk regardless of gender. Which is why Suguru's mother didnt really expect Suguru to be an omega and why Satoru made some comments on it on Chap 5. Kind of a late reminder but still!

Enough of all that yap, I hope this chapter makes up for the long wait!

---

 

After that, his Satoru-sama made it a mission to touch Suguru with every chance he gets.

When he tells Suguru to open wide, Suguru does so without any qualms. His knees are immediately pressed on the floor with his mouth wide open.

Because his Satoru-sama says so.

“Open wide and take it, Suguru.”

When he asks Suguru to sit on his lap, Suguru cautiously sits on him in the engawa, naked in the wide open.

When Suguru opens his thighs to accommodate the heaviness that is Satoru, he doesn’t cover his mouth because that is what his Kami-sama wants.

“Wider, Suguru.”

“Louder,”

When he tells Suguru to bend, Suguru bends. Not only because Satoru asks for it but because Suguru wants it.

“You like this.”

Yes.

Suguru has become a slave of a different kind and yet he doesn't mind. Suguru is supposed to feel shame, humiliation, and discomfort at the idea of being used. But Suguru could not find it in himself to do so.

Suguru couldn’t deny it in himself that his Satoru-sama touching him trumps any pride and guilt he should feel. When the god touches Suguru, Suguru does not feel disgusting, nor does he feel ashamed of how big he is. His whimpers break and his voice is low but Satoru-sama doesn’t care.

Suguru doesn’t care.

He feels so happy.

When night comes, Suguru's heartbeat races with the excitement of knowing his Kami-sama will ask him.

The door would open and the section usually closed to the eyes of everyone would open with the silhouette of the man Suguru clings to.

A hand will circle on his hips and all Suguru could offer is to be pliant to whatever the god wants. (and whatever his god wants is what he wants).

Satoru was once an enigmatic figure to Suguru.

As a kid, Satoru was a name he repeated for salvation.

He clinged to each utterance of a prayer in hopes that the god would hear him and his pleas. His innocent mind called on him like a lifeline and all Suguru can remember from his memories was a god who helped and saved him from a fate he believes is worse than death.

When he presented, Satoru was an object of Suguru’s blinded desires. The memory of the god who saved him slowly waned from absolute recollection but Suguru remembers him through the image he created. The god–the alpha he wanted was a vision; the complete opposite of the alphas he has no choice but to include space for.

In the moments where he cannot be what he was, the god became the alpha Suguru could only imagine for himself. A fantasy he knew was only false promises and delusions by his omega in order to satiate the painful heat that felt like the agonizing pain of breaking his own bones.

But the Satoru that Suguru has now is perfect, more than what his mind could ever think to make of.

Satoru touches Suguru just like he wants it.

Suguru knows that he is meant to serve the god and that even when he is folded in half just so the god could rut in his cunt, Suguru knows that his pleasure is secondary or unimportant to what the alpha should feel.

But Suguru feels good, Suguru feels alive.

Every time Suguru opens his mouth and screams, he screams because he feels good and because he couldn't help himself. Oftentimes, Suguru gets so lost in his pleasure that he forgets why he’s brought into a room where no eyes can peer inwards. When the haze clears up, Suguru finds himself under the god’s gentle hands and the way he makes Suguru feel important.

Suguru could not help but cling to him tight like he doesn't want to let go.

 

---

 

“Suguru-san, you look different,” Haibara says, the three of them including Nanami just in the open hall, taking advantage of the breeze and the beauty of the mountains.

“Really?” He answers, curious as to what the beta means.

Haibara slides next to him, crowding him with his extra bubbly demeanor. Suguru looks at him and can’t help but dote on the beta. There is just nothing wrong in the world when someone like Haibara is in it.

“You just look happier!” He says, his hands expressive and his eyes shiny like marbles. 

The sun’s light on his back just makes him all the more joyful.

“I didn’t want to say this to you but when you first came here you looked scared,” Haibara says with a pout. “Which is absolutely understandable! It is a daunting job being in here,”

“It's high up in the mountains, there’s not much going on here, you only meet a handful of people and…” He continues to drawl on.

But he circles back to Suguru and reaches for his hands, “But then some days you looked sad.”

It makes Suguru blush out of embarrassment, “Ah, really, I—”

“But now you just look happier! Right, Kento?”

“Right. You do look happier now, Suguru-san.” Nanami answers, though less enthusiastic than Haibara.

But it didn’t matter to the beta anyway. Haibara further clings to Suguru, almost shaking him at this point.

“I’m so happy for you! What changed Suguru-san?”

“Uhm–”, Suguru could only nervously laugh at the happiness that radiates from Haibara. He looks at the expectant eyes and finds it hard to lie, or even tell the truth. What can he even say? Everything that makes Suguru happy is everything that makes him a sinner.

But even Suguru’s awkward silence and pause couldn’t break Haibara’s mood, or even for Haibara to notice it.

“Ah, it doesn’t even matter! I’m just happy you’re happy!”

“It just means you finally like it here, right?”

Suguru couldn’t help but chuckle and reciprocate the tight hug that he’s receiving. He truly is happy.

“Yes, yes, I do.”

 

---

 

The god’s private tea room is serene.

The tea Suguru served for the god has been tipped over and its content spilled over the wooden floors.

Suguru is panting and his naked body shivers from the breeze with the door slightly ajar. He’s leaning all his weight to the god and his face is glued to the god’s chest. He pants and his chest rises up and down from the high he’s just experienced. Slick is leaking out of him and his pussy pulses from the aftermath of what they’ve just done.

Suguru wishes he could feel full by having the god inside him but this is enough for now.

He looks up at the god and the ragged breathing coming deep from his chest. His hair is tousled and the god’s hand instantly plants to the small on Suguru’s back. A gesture so simple and yet all the more important in Suguru’s eye.

It makes him push closer to the god.

Sometimes, the god is quiet when they’re together. There are no words or gestures exchanged between them and all Satoru does is cum and leave.

But as many moons pass and Satoru’s departure from the estate becomes fewer and fewer, Suguru finds himself spending more time with the god. The doors would open and a guiding hand would lead him to a place only both of them can occupy.

At first, Satoru-sama’s touches were probing, like he was unraveling Suguru through his hands and with his teeth. He opened his kimono night after night like he was trying to look and peer through the servant he lay with.

But as the nights they share begin to lengthen, his Kami-sama’s touch begins to feel different.

His hair is a mess in front of his face and a large hand slides it behind his ear. His body shivers from the gesture and the kimono the god tore earlier now covers his shaking frame.

Suguru cannot help but look at the god even when his eyes are still masked. He wishes he could see his eyes; wishes there is something for Suguru to gaze at. Will it still be the same blue he once thought he saw?

“Ask me of it.” The god speaks, his covered gaze scrutinizing the frame sitting on his lap. “I can feel it in your gaze. There’s no need to be shy over it.”

Suguru can only avert his gaze, his cheeks aflame from being caught.

He shakes his head, “I can’t. It is not my place to ask you any questions, Kami-sama.”

“Why?” The god says, his head tilted to the side, a small upturn on his lips. His hand plays with Suguru’s fallen strands and asks, “When will it be your place to ask? Will it not be when you are on my lap?”

Suguru could not help but flush, embarrassed at the callous way the god answered him. He is on his god’s lap. The hand on his back prevents him from going anywhere, from ever making space between their bodies.

He wipes his heating cheeks as if the rush of blood will disappear and looks to find the same small smile on the god’s lips. Suguru can’t help but think that maybe he is permitted to ask because of where he is right now. And who if not him?

“Go on. Ask me, Suguru.”

Maybe he can be different, maybe he is allowed to know him more.

And so Suguru asks. He asks the god the most mundane from the silks that he wears to the flowers he favors in his garden. He asks and hangs on every word that falls from the god’s lips. Suguru is curious and he is eager to please; he wants to know more from the god and he is selfish in wanting to know more with what others could never know.

And his god answers him, the rumble on his chest clear to Suguru’s pressed ears. His hand is ever present on Suguru’s back, the motion of his caress giving him reassurance.

“Did you like the tea I brought you, Kami-sama?”

“I did. I always like what you bring me.”

“You didn’t take a sip this evening,”

“I had something more important in my hands. I apologize.”

It makes Suguru so happy.

He clings to the god and he lets his mouth run. He lets his innocence allow him his arrogance and he convinces himself that he is important enough to the god to know, to probe.

“Kami-sama, are your eyes blue?” He takes his head off the god’s chest and finally asks, something he knows is crossing the line.

Suguru has never seen the god without his bindings ever since he came into his home and he knows it is unspoken that it should never be mentioned.

But Suguru is stubborn and the night gives him the courage the sun will never see.

The both of them are still and the air in the room suddenly feels different. Suguru feels like he’s made a mistake and there is nothing he can do to change it.

The hand on his back goes to a halt and Suguru feels dread run through his whole body. “I–I’m sorry, Kami-sama, I shouldn't have, I—”

But before Suguru could further apologize, the hand once on his back crept up to his hair and pulls. It forces Suguru to look up to the god, the slight pressure from his hair forgotten as his panic consumes him.

“Can you see colors, Suguru?” The god asks, his voice tight.

Suguru doesn’t know what to say.

Satoru-sama loves playing with Suguru’s hair, twirling it in his hand or brushing it through his fingers. He pulls on it when Suguru likes it, when Suguru screams from the god’s tongue and he likes the pain of having it pulled.

But the god’s hold pains Suguru because he knows he made a mistake. His heart races and he cannot help but feel anxious to what he’s done. He doesn’t want to anger the god, doesn’t wanna anger the alpha he wants to have.

The god’s scent is menacing and it envelopes both of them like a bubble. It feels so powerful that the room doesn’t feel serene any longer. He looks at the god and sees the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is tightly clenched. Suguru doesn’t know what angered the alpha in front of him—or if his anger is pointed towards Suguru or to whatever that might’ve angered him.

But Suguru’s omega doesn’t like it and it claws out to Suguru to fix it.

Alpha is angry, don’t want alpha to be angry at us. Fix, plead, anything.

Another hand cages him and Suguru can feel it circle through his waist, tight. Suguru has no way of escaping.

He swallows, “I just wanted t–to know, Kami-sama, I apologize.”

“Can you?”

“Kami-sama, I—”

“Can you see colors, Suguru?” The god’s hand ghosts close to his nape, to where his mother bit him.

“I—I can’t see colors, Kami-sama. I can’t, I’m sorry.”

As fast as it came, the grip on his hair suddenly loosens and a deep sigh comes out from the god. He lets the dragon guide him into falling further in his arms, the hand that once pulled his hair now caressing it again.

“I’m sorry, Kami-sama,” is all Suguru could say. “I’m sorry.”

“How do you know what blue is, Suguru?”

“I don’t know, Kami–sama, I was just taught, I’ve–I’ve never seen it.”

And somehow, it was enough for the god. The conversation and his anger passing just as quickly as it came. They stayed like that for a while, the both of them having no words to say.

A moment passes when the god finally speaks to him, “Did I hurt you, Suguru?”

He shook his head, “No, you’ve pulled my hair harder before.”

An amused sound came out of the god’s mouth and Suguru couldn't help but find the sound enough for him to feel at ease, to erase whatever just happened.

Alpha is happy, good omega, good.

“Yes, I have pulled your hair harder before,” he tells Suguru, so incredibly gentle in his words and actions. It caught Suguru off guard. “I always loved your hair.”

And with that, they stayed like that for a while, blissful and serene as if what had happened had not occurred, like it did not amount to anything significant when it felt like it.

A beat passes before he opens his mouth again.

“Will you punish me?”

The god looks at Suguru and he could not help but feel nervous again at his admission, at the words he threw and could never catch again. This man in front of him is still a god.

But his words pierce deeply into Suguru’s open and bleeding heart and the fear that once coursed through his veins became forgotten. “Never for you, Suguru.”

“But I made you mad.”

“I can never be mad at you.”

“But will you punish me?”

“No, Suguru,” he says as he nuzzles in Suguru’s neck, close to where his mating gland lay. It makes the hair on his back rise, the leaves he attached snug on it but never tight enough for how close the god is. The dragon lets his head rest there for a while, “I only punish those who deserve it.”

The god’s hot breath leaves shivers in Suguru’s exposed skin.

“Have you ever done something worth punishing, Suguru?”

Yes. Yes, more than I care to admit, more than I’m allowed to say.

He lies.

“N-no.”

“Then, never for you, Suguru.”

“Kami-sama…” Stop, Please.

A hand slides lower to his back and leaves to caress his thighs. It stays there for a while, only caressing—only stroking Suguru’s skin gently.

“You know, Suguru,” the god whispers, so close to his ears. “You are so eager to please,”

“You tempt me so much.” He says, his voice just above a whisper. “Do you do it on purpose?”

It makes his cheeks heat, shy.

“No–no, Kami-sama, I just wanted to–”

“You fit right into me, I like how you feel under me.”

“Don’t you think so, Suguru?”

Suguru can’t seem to find any words to answer, as if spellbound by the words so graciously given to him.

“I could map out the plains of your body and only hope to have it in my memory."

“And you’ve been so good to me, Suguru,” The god’s hand follows his curves, to the dip of his waist, and to the way it spreads to his hips. “You’ll continue to be good right?”

“Y-yes.”

The god gazes at him, his eyes like trying to find something within Suguru’s eyes. He caresses his face and his hand gently ghosts to Suguru’s skin.

There is so much warmth and affection in the way the god touches him that Suguru cannot help but ache. It hurts, how the god could do this to him. Suguru doesn’t have anything in himself to go against it.

And so he doesn’t.

“Just be good, Suguru. That’s all you have to do.” he whispers in his ear like a secret.

Their conversation ends. There was no need to answer and it seemed like the god didn’t need to hear it. It was unspoken between them, the knowledge that Suguru would follow—that Suguru would be obedient.

There are no more words to exchange for the night and yet Suguru doesn’t want to move. He nuzzles closer to the god like his action will somehow grant him more time till the sun shines again.

All he wants is to be with the alpha.

His fatigue doesn’t go unnoticed by the god, however. “Sleep. I’ll bring you to your room.”

He has the nerve to feel embarrassed as if this is not what he wanted. “There’s no need, Kami-sama, I can just—”

“Sleep.”

A hand guides him and all Suguru can do is hesitantly hook his face in the crook of the god’s neck. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t want to go against something he also wishes. He takes advantage of the god’s kindness and soaks in his scent, at the way the god’s mating gland is so close to his teeth.

(Bite. Mate)

He softly purrs, a small carelessness he found he didn’t care to correct.

In times like this, Suguru cannot help but wish they wouldn’t have to part, that the sun doesn’t have to meet the mountain when morning comes. As he clings to the dragon, he feels the heat coming from his Satoru-sama with the reminder that he is alive and Suguru is so close to him that he pretends that there is nothing wrong with what he’s doing.

That his place is to be right here.

“You can do anything to me, Kami-sama. Anything.” He says, sleep slowly catching him.

“I’ll give you anything.”

“Everything.”

The god doesn’t say anything to it, just holds Suguru more firmly, more closely.

 

 

When he wakes up, he is softly tucked in his sheets with the scent of the god’s pheromones still clinging to him.

 

---

 

Suguru gets swallowed by everything that is his god.

Their trysts become longer, a frequent part of his nights. He serves his god in any way that he can—by opening his legs or by simply being there.

He lets his god consume him, his work sometimes forgotten; his mornings now spent in his room asleep when he so rarely does at night.

And for a castle in the heavens with only a handful of hands to keep it a worthy place for a god, people notice.

“Oh, Suguru-san!” The boy greets him. He’s hunched on the ground, his hands covered with dirt where a mound under his fingers grows a beautiful flower. “It’s nice to see you here. I rarely see you nowadays.”

“What? I always visit you in the garden,” he says, bending down beside the beta. “These are beautiful Ijichi, did you just plant them?”

“Ah, that, that is true,” Ijichi says, sheepish in his answer. “You did visit a lot, Suguru-san.”

He continues his work, extremely careful in the way he handles the plant, “But these flowers have been in here moons ago, Suguru-san. I’ve just replanted them.”

 

---

 

The others take notice of the change in his days.

They ask him where he is and why he sometimes starts his day a little later, a complete change from when Suguru greeted them on their arrival.

The estate is still completely spotless, immaculate in all its corners, and what space it could offer. Suguru has not neglected his work in its entirety and the place is just as clean and beautiful as when he arrived.

There are no judgement in their barrage of questions, more coming from Haibara and Ijichi more than anyone. They are simply curious about the change, something so apparent when nothing changes in the mountain.

And so Suguru lies. He reasons a shallow decision of wanting to be there if ever the god needs him. He tells them he waits until the sun starts to rise and takes the sleep he could have before the day starts again.

He doesn’t share the simple fact that his god talks to him, or that he has been inside parts of the estate they’ve never been. Suguru didn’t want to share, didn’t want to divulge. He is selfish in the knowledge that the god talks to him; touches him.

He keeps to himself the nights where all they do is touch skin and talk; on moments where Suguru doesn’t have to open his legs to have the god’s attention. He relishes the idea that he might be special and that what they have is more to the god in the same way it is all Suguru’s world revolves now.

And when the god treats Suguru like he matters to him, why would Suguru share?

Selfishly, Suguru wants to stay in this bubble and keep the god to himself. He wants Satoru to himself, all to him. Only to him.

Mine, mine. Mine.

 

“Suguru, what are you doing?”

Dread.

It was all Suguru could feel when Shoko’s voice rings in his ears. Her voice becomes an anomaly to the night when the voices he usually hears belong only to him and his god.

But Shoko stands in the space Suguru also occupies, her eyes wide open with disbelief and anger, maybe even fear.

“Don’t open that door.”

Shoko’s words freeze Suguru, his hand hovered so close to the door that's ajar. To open it; his god waiting for him just opposite on the other side of the door.

But Shoko’s anger is so palpable, the scent of her pheromones so strong. As a beta, her scent was supposed to be manageable, underneath the alphas and omegas who use their scent to find mates.

But Shoko’s anger defies that, her posture like an animal wronged.

“Shoko-san, I—”

But Shoko didn’t give Suguru the opportunity to reason or lie. Before he can finish whatever he is going to say, Shoko has already taken the necessary steps to bridge the gap between them. Her hand latches to his and in her small stature, drags Suguru out of the estate.

“How could you! What were you thinking?” She tells him, her voice filled with frustration at the situation they have found themselves in.

“I—, Shoko-san, I wasn’t–I wasn’t doing anything, I was just—”

“Don’t lie to me!” She grits out, her voice strained with having to whisper when all she wanted was to scream at Suguru. “I’ve seen you with him! I know what he’s doing to you!”

Suguru couldn’t answer Shoko, stuck looking at her with pained eyes.

“Shoko-san—”

“You were staying so much late, I thought you were bending over backward just to keep the house pristine. I was worried for you! I stayed late to talk some sense into you and I saw you with him! I...I thought it was just a mistake that night but you opened that door willingly just now.” She tells him, her voice laced with concern and apprehension.

Shoko is a small woman. Her delicate frame coupled with her calm nature made her the person Suguru gravitated in the house the most. But right now, in the night with only the moonlight illuminating her person, Suguru could feel her distress. And her distress came in her rage.

“What has he done to you? Has he forced you?”

“N–no!”

“You have to stop this, Suguru, nothing good would come of it. This is…this is dangerous.” She says, almost pleading now. “This isn’t something that you should be doing. You didn’t come here to be…that.”

But Suguru is also stubborn and headstrong. He found no anger to be insulated like a whore or some prostitute. But he found misplaced anger in the idea that he’s not worthy to be beside Satoru—even when it is most likely true.

“Is it because I’m a slave, Shoko-san? Is it because I'm a shadowed soul?” He says, defensive. “Because I came from the lowest of low?”

“You know that's not what I meant.” She tells him, her voice unwavering.

“I know what I'm doing, Shoko-san. This is part of my work here. I don’t…I don’t expect anything else.” He says.

“You should have said no when he asked! When he started whatever he did!” she exclaims.

“You know I couldn’t say no.” I wouldn’t.

“Yes, you could’ve! He would—he would understand. He—”

Both of them knew that he couldn’t. Whatever the god said, whatever his reaction and answer may have been, there was no way that Suguru would say no to whatever his god wanted. It was regardless if Suguru wanted it in the first place.

Suguru can see the desperation in Shoko’s eyes, the concern and betrayal she feels at the situation Suguru has put himself in.

“You don’t know him, Suguru. He could hurt you.” Shoko says as she grits her teeth.

But he does. Suguru wishes he could say that he does know the god. He spent many moons knowing him. Who was Shoko to say he doesn’t?

She knows nothing.

But he can’t say that to her. “He’s our god, Shoko-san. You can’t be saying these things to him, you can’t—”

“It doesn’t matter!” She says, her voice booming in the silence. “There's no point in messing with a God, Suguru!”

“What of when he told you to mask your scent? When you can’t even walk out of these walls apart from your own without it? All of that just to fall into his arms?”

Shoko’s words feel like a slap to him. His hands unconsciously cover his mark, the leaves a rougher texture compared to his skin. He couldn’t help but feel naked in the cutthroat way of Shoko’s anger. At how true it is.

Suguru remembers it all, the pain still vivid. But he simply could not care about it if it meant being with the alpha he wanted.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

“I—I just don’t care about it, Shoko-san!”

She walks closer to him, her hands twitching beside her like she either wants to smoke her cigarette or shake Suguru out of his stupor.

“That girl,” she says, her eyes like slits and her breath coming deep from her lungs like she was running. “That girl that killed herself. I lied.”

“She didn’t kill herself. We don’t know if she did. She was young and she was naive. She tried to open that door before and the next thing I know the clan told everyone she killed herself.”

Suguru’s heart drops to his stomach. The truth ringing in his ears. 

“What?” Was all Suguru could ask her.

Suguru felt betrayed. The words that Shoko left him making a hollow grave inside Suguru’s stomach. He felt empty, he felt something he couldn’t understand. Why? Why would Shoko say all of this right now? Blow after blow, how is Suguru supposed to stand?

Suguru feels like he wants to throw up, empty his stomach, and reach out to his throat to get rid of what feels like is expanding in his chest and making his breathing hard. He wants to curl up into a ball and cry. He wants to scream. He wants to tear through something, anything.

But instead of fear, Suguru felt ugly, disgusting jealousy form in the pit of his stomach.

Suguru did not concern himself over her, over the girl he did not know. He did not care for her life or the death that ended it. And though he could have had pitied her at some point in his life, this was not the time.

Suguru is being consumed by everything; of his god, of the attention he is getting, of Shoko, and the conversation they are having. Everything gnaws at him and he could not find reason to be sensible or logical.

All he could think of was that he’s not special anymore. That for all he treasured in his heart, a well-kept secret he thought was only theirs to have, the god might’ve shared it with someone else.

Alpha…alpha isn’t mine. Alpha did this with someone. Omega isn’t special.

Suguru did not care for the girl nor for the insinuation that the god killed her. It did not even pass Suguru that he might be next. All that he is is consumed and he let the god do it with open arms.

But his anger came like a squawk, a plea, a pitying voice. “You lied…why would you lie to me?”

“Because I didn't want to scare you!” Shoko accidentally raises her voice. Conscious of her volume, she turns to lessen it; no less anger than when she first did it. “I didn't want you to come back to the dumps where they treated you like trash.”

Suguru wanted to answer, he did not know what but he wanted to answer. He wanted to reveal more than what he wanted; whatever just to defend his god and their trysts that from the eyes of an outsider, was blasphemous and impious.

But a voice breaks their conversation.

The shoji screen of the estate opens and reveals the only soul inside it. The god opens it and gives a short inquisitive look at his surroundings, not bothering to step out and look further.

“Suguru?” He calls out, seemingly to the wind. 

Both Suguru and Shoko freeze in their conversation. Their breaths held for a moment like time stood still. Both of them did not want the god to know. For all their anger and hurt, they did not want the god to know their secrets.

When none answered him, the god’s footsteps could be heard retreating, the shoji screen left open.

“I need to go back.” was all Suguru could say.

“You need to end this, Suguru. Before there’s nothing you can do about it.” She held his hand, incredibly gentle than what Suguru deserves. A final plea from which it sounded like.

Looking at her eyes, Suguru can feel her concern for him, the sincerity underneath it all. Under all her anger is just Shoko desperate to save a friend from a fate she could not imagine would end well.

But Suguru did not want to be saved, he wanted to fall deeper into the cliff he found. 

All he could do for her was hold her hand as well.

“I don’t want to,” he says, resolute. “I’m sorry, Shoko-san.”

And with that, he turns against her. All that anger and rage, all for him to turn his back on her and follow the god she warned him about.

However before he could close the doors of the estate, she spoke again.

And Suguru wishes he had not heard it.

“He has a mate, okay, Suguru? He’s been trying to find them for years. He told me that himself.” She says, her voice steeled. She’s gazing somewhere far away, like purposefully shying away from looking at Suguru while she reveals this.

"He told me when we were younger. It was all he ever wanted."

But she does look at him, her eyes steady and her jaw clenched. “When he finds them he will throw you out.” She looks at Suguru like this is the truth, like it is the only future she could see for him.

“His mate will throw you out. Do you understand me?”

Suguru did not look at her when he closed the door to her.

 

 

 

They didn’t do anything that night, him and his god. The memory of what just crossed between Suguru and Shoko weighed heavy on his heart. When he found his god waiting for him, it took a considerable amount of effort to conceal the shake in his hands and the thundering of his ribcage.

Whether he noticed it or not, the god wrapped Suguru in his arms and held his hand into his. The god’s pheromones that night felt overpowering and yet so safe that Suguru had no choice but to succumb to sleep in the god’s arms.

Suguru felt shaken, he felt true fear course through his being.

He has a mate.

But how is Suguru supposed to just stop?

 

---

 

The morning after, Suguru felt worse for wear. The conversation left a dreadful taste in his tongue and even the bright morning rays of the sun did not change it.

What he heard did not leave him, Shoko’s voice still rang clear to his ears.

But for Shoko, it was all just a product of the night.

 

“I apologize for what happened last night, Suguru-san.” She says, head bowed. “Forgive me for my improprieties and the words I’ve said,”

“I was just…concerned.” She approaches him, still not looking at him. “I did not mean to hurt you or…cause you any harm.”

“Of course, Shoko-san. There’s no need to apologize.” He tells her in reply, eager to make amends over a conversation that still weighs heavy on him.

Truthfully, Suguru did not expect Shoko to apologize so fast, or to even apologize at all. He remembers the way Shoko acted and the words she left for him. There was nothing that felt like it would be resolved in a day.

But Suguru could not bear to lose a friend, something he did not even know he could have before living in the estate.

Shoko looks at him for a moment and gives him a pained, half-hearted smile. More like a twitch in the lips even. But for Suguru, it was more than enough.

“I…These are for you,” Shoko says as she hands Suguru a jar of leaves, brighter in color and more abundant than what was last given to him. “When I talked about your scent, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He takes it with steady hands as Shoko speaks, “They’re more bitter but take them every day. They’re…they’re stronger than what I last gave you. This one is said to be better for you.”

“Thank you, Shoko-san.” He tells her, happy to receive a peace offering from her. For all that was said last night, Suguru did not want to lose Shoko; not at all.

A silence befalls them, both of them uncertain as to how to proceed. Suguru looks at Shoko and her guarded position. Her hands are crossed in her chest and her eyes could not keep a steady gaze at Suguru as if guilty. 

“Is this what you really want, Suguru?” She asks him like a final warning, like a final plea for Suguru to give her any indication that he wants to stop.

And knowing Shoko, she would have helped him against a god if it came down to it.

But there was nothing.

“Yes.” He answers her with no doubt and no hesitancy; there never was.

And with that, she nods.

“Be careful, Suguru.” She tells him before she leaves.

She did not give him a moment to reply.

Notes:

Poor Suguru can't seem to catch a break he just wanted to bounce on that dicc and look at where that got him

Anyways! Hopefully, you liked this chapter (maybe you can tell me your thoughts on it! *wink wink*), and hope you're still willing to read the next update! Check if I give Suguru a break or not (I will not) lol

Anyways, thank you, bye, mwah <3

Chapter 7: 灰色 | Haiiro

Summary:

Haiiro · Gray

 

Impermanence

Notes:

omg hi again!

This is another, admittedly, very late update, which is yikes! Somehow, having an early draft of the chapter made it much harder to finish this one (this is the last part of my previously drafted CH4, which was once 4k but has now ballooned to something close to 20k words). But! even though im a little insecure with this one idk why, hopefully this update makes up for the wait!

AH ALSO, thank you so much for all the love (kudos, comments, subs) from last chapter it really made me strive harder to finish this so thank youuuu so much MWAH

---

 

Suguru’s conversation with Shoko did not leave him. It felt like a curse that had taken root in his mind, a constant ringing he could not forget or ignore. Its urgency and weight all the more painful for him to carry even in the arms of his god.

“He has a mate, okay, Suguru? He’s been trying to find them for years. He told me that himself.”

“His mate will throw you out. Do you understand me?”

Suguru feels like he’s only given borrowed time. That all he has had in this moment will be brutally taken from him.

Had he forgotten about this “soulmate” or had he simply chosen not to think about it? About the mate of his god? About the omega who would one day fit more perfectly in the alpha’s arms more than he has right now?

Suguru guesses it is his fault for being blind, for simply basking in what feels like to be desired and maybe loved. Had he thought of his impermanence? No. Suguru simply wanted to be ignorant of what awaited him.

But now he knows, he knows better.

With Satoru-sama’s arms wrapped around him like a cage, like a rope, Suguru wishes he could tighten them more. More so that he would have no way of escaping.

The alpha’s hand is on his waist and his nose is buried in his hair. Suguru has no courage to look at him while the beating of his heart is erratic and his mind races between his selfishness and the remaining reason he has left.

“Suguru?”

“Kami-sama?”

“Stay with me for a while longer, don’t leave.”

Suguru could only brush his hand over to his god’s and it hurts all the more when he laces his fingers with Suguru’s.

It feels like a mistake to feel love and its loss at the same time.

 

---

 

Suguru and Shoko did not let the others know what happened between them.

If Shoko did, he would not know.

Like all other days, the people on the estate lived their lives the same way. Ijichi tended to the gardens and the kois, Haibara took it in himself to feed everyone, and Nanami remained just as stoic as ever.

To the people who never got involved, the estate should remain the same.

But Suguru knows better.

He looks at Shoko carrying baskets of laundry and could only stare. He could not approach her even if he wanted to, a distance that has worsened as the days pass by.

It feels like Shoko has been burning the bridges that they’ve built, the friendship that Suguru treasured, gone in a single moment—something he could not even fix.

It was already fixed. She apologized. Suguru has done the same.

And yet, it feels all the more bigger. He wishes she hadn’t uttered the word sorry and had approached Suguru with such distant care. Maybe they wouldn’t have to make it seem like things are better.

And so the rift becomes bigger, their conversation curt and unfeeling.

But somehow, Suguru knows that Shoko still cares. Sometimes he can see her eyes follow his movements and the pointed look she gives like she wants to say more than what she is allowed to.

And that’s why it feels all the more painful.

“—Suguru-san? Are you listening?” Haibara asks, waving a hand on his face.

“Ah, yes—yes, I am,” He hurriedly answers, feigning ignorance.

But it doesn’t work on the beta. “Are you okay, Suguru-san? You seem out of it.” Haibara says as he focuses on the ingredients in front of him. “You know it's not good to daydream with a knife in your hand.”

He looks at his hand and the knife in question. “Ah, I forgot. Thank you, Haibara-san.”

“It’s fine. You have to be careful, though. I wouldn’t want you to bleed on my food!”

Suguru forces a small laugh, something genuine if not for the thoughts that plague him.

“What are you cooking today?”

“Tachi-gui soba. With the weather our land is experiencing right now, it’d be nice to have something hot in our stomach.”

“It has been raining a lot lately.”

They continue in relative silence, momentarily broken when Haibara has something to share and Suguru has something to add. As much as Suguru could force a smile and an easy conversation, his mind sometimes wanders to Shoko and her words that have now felt like chains around Suguru’s neck.

Satoru-sama’s mate, Satoru-sama’s mate. Mate. Omega. Satoru’s soulmate—

“You know, Suguru-san, you don’t have to think too much about Shoko-san.” Haibara says out of the blue. He’s looking directly at Suguru now, his soba left to boil.

“What do you mean?” It was all Suguru could have the courage to say.

“What I mean is that you don’t have to keep it a secret anymore. Nothing ever changes in these mountains, nothing ever happens. So when something changes, everyone just…knows.” Haibara shrugs, giving Suguru what the beta probably thought was assurance.

It only made the hairs on Suguru’s back bristle.

“Everyone knows?” He utters.

“Of course. Everyone noticed how you and Shoko-san have been these past few days. Both of you used to talk all the time. You cleaned and she lit her cigarette. It was just how it was in the estate when you arrived.” The beta says, his voice soft.

“I mean, now, she’s actually cleaning—it’s very peculiar.”

He wipes off the puzzled look on his face and continues. “But everyone knows something happened between the two of you. We are unaware of what has happened, none of you have shared, but I’m sure it will get better in no time.”

Suguru unconsciously gives a sigh of relief, at ease knowing everything stayed between them. The beta catches this and gives a small smile.

“Shoko-san will give in. She cares too much not to, she just doesn’t let us see it.”

Suguru gives him a small smile. Haibara’s words did make him feel better. Suguru knows that Shoko still cares. He knows simply because Shoko was—is his friend.

But then again, Suguru did not listen to her.

“I—I don’t think it’ll be that easy.” Suguru supplies, giving himself a small reprieve and voicing out his worries to Yu. Shoko used to be that person. Now, it all somehow stems from everything that Shoko has told him.

“Hmm, I doubt that,” Haibara says with such casualness. He sounds like he is sure of it.

He turns his back on Suguru and continues tending to his food. “It gets lonely in these mountains, Suguru-san. I know it, and I’ve lived here far less than Kento and Shoko-san. You don’t want to lose any friends you’ve found in this place. You treat them like family because it is sometimes all you could ever have.”

He turns his head to Suguru, his warmth radiating just through his smile. “And! I know Shoko-san deeply cares about you. You can’t do anything that could make her hate you.”

“That’s…That makes me happy, Haibara-san. Thank you.”

Haibara smiles, his smile stretching from ear to ear that his eyes could no longer be seen. Suguru sometimes looks at him with envy. How does it feel to be ignorant of pain? To find your soulmate and to see the world as it was intended? not in its dull and lifeless shades?

He wishes to know.

“Is it nice, Haibara-san? To have a soulmate?”

Haibara blushes at the sudden change in question, undoubtedly caught off guard by it.

“I—It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Suguru-san. When Kento found me, nothing in this world ever amounted to anything better, more worthy to me. Life became more beautiful.”

“When he bit me, he—”, Haibara’s eyes glimmered as he reminisced about his memories with his mate. Suguru could only listen to a feeling he could never experience. But Haibara could see it in his face, the longing.

Remembering Suguru’s situation and the deep, deep scar on his mating gland, he backtracks.

“But—it's not all that matters! People who don’t find their soulmates live happy lives! Ah, its—”

“It's okay, Haibara-san. It does not hurt me.”

The beta visibly deflates, apologetic at his callousness and carelessness.

He steps closer to Suguru, his hand itching to hold his. “Suguru-san, it shouldn’t matter. You’ll have us. Satoru-sama will always have a place in his home for you. And I know that you’ve been happy here. We can smell it now that your scent has become sweeter than before.”

Sweeter?

“Sweeter?”

“Yes, which is why I know that you don’t need a soulmate. You have us! Your scent has been getting stronger—better!” Haibara perks up, eager to comfort his friend.

But all Suguru can hear is sweeter, stronger, better, sweeter, sweet, sweet…

“Is it really, Haibara-san? Are you cert—”

Before he can finish, there’s already a bowl in front of Suguru.

“Here, Suguru-san. A hot bowl of soba. You know, in my hometown, we usually serve this to our omegas going through preheat. I’m sure this will make you feel better!”

 

---

 

Suguru looks at the pile of pillows on his bed, the blankets, and the silks he has tried to arrange and position. He has been arranging and rearranging them, adding and trying to make sense of what he thinks is a mess. But it's a nest.

A nest. He’s making a nest.

He looks at his nest with a heavy and thudding heart, his movements slow and unsure as he lies in the middle of it. He looks at everything , at the smallest detail, and at the entirety of the nest he tried hard to build but still feels incomplete.

“Sweeter.”

He reaches for the silk he stole from his god, the very first when the only thing he could do was steal to feel close to him and smell his pheromones. He raises it to his nose and takes a deep breath. There’s more of his scent than his god’s now.

Haibara said he smells sweeter, better. Has his scent changed?

His hands shake as he reaches his nape and peels off the layers of leaves he covered on his mating gland. When the leaves were entirely gone, his scent immediately spread throughout his walls. It feels like it has been eons since he could scent his own pheromones properly.

He inhales and is hit with a scent foreign to him. He does smell a little better. The tainted stench of his scent lessened, replaced by something sweet.

It’s not a strong change, something subtle even. It is similar to what a beta smells, pheromones that are almost never there.

But as he gives another whiff of his scent, Suguru can smell the subtle change, the pheromones close to what a normal omega might smell like.

Something pure and sweet. Something wholly omegan.

Suguru does not know the reason why it has changed or why it has changed to be something better. Suguru never smelled something close like this, never smelled anything pleasant.

He hugs himself and curves into a ball, his eyes closed tight at the change he could not begin to understand.

Maybe he is going into preheat. All the usual signs point towards it. His scent has gotten stronger even though he could not begin to find reasons why his scent is changing. Suguru is broken. When his heat hits, the smell of death is what others find close to him. He smelled of danger and his pheromones told others that he was a dangerous animal. Suguru’s preheats were antagonizing and signaled a worse heat that was about to come.

But now, he could faintly smell flowers in the mountain—the flowers he usually found littered in the whole estate. The flowers that Satoru-sama demanded to have close to him.

It was what Suguru could faintly smell on him—on his nape.

He swallows hard, his heart beating hard in his chest, it almost feels like dread.

But Suguru feels happy, he feels hope. It hurts his chest but he feels hopeful.

Suguru’s newfound relationship with his Satoru-sama was something he never imagined. Children of Shadowed Souls are always called menaces, ugly degenerates undeserving of kindness.

But Satoru-sama accepted and touched him and he let Suguru touch him in the same kind. He thinks himself delusional but sometimes, Suguru thinks Satoru wants to touch him with the same type of hunger he does.

His breathing stutters and the hold he has on the silk tightens into fists. If his scent could faintly smell like an omega, will the god continue to have him? Can Suguru abuse more of the time he has with him?

Or will he be angry? Wrathful to the omega who thought could lie to him?

Our alpha would accept us, alpha will take care of us.

Can Suguru still convince himself that the god favors him?

Alpha can take care of us during our heat. He’ll be good, good for pups. Alpha is always good.

But will the alpha even help him?

The White-Scaled Dragon hasn’t fucked Suguru, yet.

Not even a single kiss.

Suguru knows that the god knows he would be willing, with how he opens his legs and with how he worships him. Suguru is willing and it shows. For every night when the god looked like he could devour Suguru, he was happy to make a home for the alpha inside him.

Sometimes, Suguru feels like the god is holding back, or maybe, maybe there’s something wrong with him.

Not enough with him.

Maybe because he’s a beta in his eyes. If Suguru changes, if Suguru becomes an omega in the eyes of his savior, will he be enough for him?

Suguru is deranged and without shame but Suguru has eyes and he feels. He feels it when the dragon doesn’t let Suguru leave his side. How he sometimes locks Suguru in his arms too tight. When he sometimes just lets Suguru’s body fall into him. Just because.

Can’t he be right this time?

Suguru has broken too many rules. Even though Suguru hasn't peered in his Satoru-sama’s eyes again, hasn't Suguru been an exception?

Fuck finding his soulmate, Suguru wants this so much he could cry.

“But what of Satoru-sama’s mate? His omega?” his rationality asks.

But Suguru is selfish and he loves him, twisted as it is.

Maybe, maybe he can be that for his god.

 

---

 

The next morning, Suguru follows Shoko with his eyes, looking at her movements and actions a little too carefully. He’s nervous and his hands don’t hide it.

When she passes by him, an opportunity where they are the only people that could hear, he calls out her name.

“Shoko-san, can I talk to you?”

Shoko clearly did not expect him, with the way her eyes momentarily widened. But as fast as it came, it was all lost in her face in a single moment.

She did not answer him but she did not make any move to leave. Suguru took it as his chance to speak.

“Can I have more of that tea you’ve given me?” he asks, “I—Haibara told me my scent has been getting better—sweeter. And-and maybe it was because of it. I’ve finished everything. I need more, Shoko-san.”

Suguru has been doubling and tripling his use of the leaves Shoko has given him. Though their apologies might have been strained, Suguru did not have any reason not to use what was given to him. He trusted Shoko with his whole life; she would do nothing that would harm him.

“Those were supposed to last you for many moons.”

Suddenly, the wind blew towards them and Suguru knew it carried his scent towards the beta as well.

Instead of happiness for it, Shoko looked panicked.

“I can smell the dragon on you,” she tells him. “And you don’t smell like yourself anymore.”

A pause.

“Are you an omega, Suguru?”

He stilled, frozen.

“Answer me.”

“Shoko-san. Please, don't tell them.” It was all Suguru could answer Shoko.

When Shoko heard his admission, Suguru could not help but feel heartbroken towards his friend. He knows she feels betrayed. He knows she feels wronged.

“I’m sorry, Shoko-san.”

Shoko looked panicked, her eyes darting from the sides as if someone would intrude or listen any moment. “Suguru, this is dangerous. You cannot stay with him. Why—How, how would you think the god would take this, Suguru?”

Suguru hesitates, “I—I will come clean to him. He would-he would accept me.”

Shoko looks at him, at the way his hands shake and can’t control it. “You’re lying to him. He wouldn’t—”

He cuts her off, not ready to listen to her. “I want to spend my heat with him.”

It stopped Shoko in his tracks and Suguru could see fear in her eyes.

“You have gone crazy. You’re too blind to see the mess you’ve made, Suguru.”

All Suguru can give is a meek reason to let her believe him. His eyes not meeting hers. “I–I know him.”

Alpha would help me.

“You have to leave now, Suguru.” Shoko tells him, her voice pointed in every word. “I–I don’t know what he’s gonna do with you, Suguru. Please, listen to me. Just leave.”

“Leave?”

“Leave and never come back. This house is no longer safe for you.”

Suguru looks at Shoko and at her posture, like she’s ready to whisk Suguru away from this place. Her hands slightly shake and there is desperation in her scent. Like she’s afraid. Like she’s afraid for him.

But Suguru doesn’t understand it, clouded in his adoration for the alpha. Satoru-sama has never harmed him, never done anything wrong with him.

Suguru loves him.

“I love him.”

It silenced the both of them. The weight of his confession heavy as it hangs in the air. Suguru has no right to love a god—has no right to be beside him. But it is simply the truth and it is simply what it is. Suguru loves him.

But Shoko can’t see it.

“That doesn't make you his mate, Suguru.”

“I am not thinking that I am, I just—”

“You do. I can see it in your face. You hope.”

There is no longer warmth in her voice, only callousness, only the words she thinks are true. And maybe it was what she thought could convince him.

“What you’re doing will kill you. You don't know him. You can’t love him.”

“He’s kind. He’s better than what you think he is.” Suguru looks at Shoko, trying to get his point across. “I know him. You don’t know him like I do.”

“There is only little difference between a monster and a god, Suguru,” Shoko tells him, her eyes not meeting his. She looks like she knows something that Suguru doesn't, and it looks like it is eating her alive.

She continues, her gaze still far from him. “You have become blind to reason. This is not the kind of life you want to lead with.”

Suguru clenches his fist, his breath shaking from something he can’t explain. Is he mad? angry? afraid? He doesn’t even know anymore.

He’s angry. He’s angry at Shoko for painting an image of the god as someone to be feared, someone Suguru needed to be far away from. That is not the alpha that Suguru spends his nights with—not the alpha who would hold Suguru with such tenderness and warmth.

Why can’t she see that?

He’s afraid. He’s so afraid. Because Shoko is right. He hopes. He hopes he is the god’s omega. It is crazy, presumptuous, and impossible. But Suguru could not stop even if he wanted to.

What can reason do when it is simply his desire to be loved? To have the alpha who makes it seem like he could love him as well?

“And what then, when his mate finally comes into his life? When you are nothing more than to warm his sheets? What then will become of you?” Shoko asks, firm.

“Do you think his omega will take kindly to someone who came before him? Who thinks their alpha is yours?”

“If his omega asks not for your mercy, Satoru-sama will not hesitate to kill you if they ask for it. If cruelty is what they wanted for you.”

Alpha would protect us.

The beta gives him a final look, something painful that Suguru wishes he didn't have to see. “I cannot force you. Your decision is yours to make. I have already pleaded with you.”

She hugs him, tight and it feels undeniably painful. “Leave when you can, and don’t come back even if you want to.”

 

---

 

Suguru stayed.

It would hurt Shoko to know, but he did not think twice about staying or even leaving for a moment.

He does not have a home, does not have a family to confide in or stay with. For the longest time, this has been the only home Suguru could claim as his own.

This night is colder than all the nights Suguru has spent in the mountains. The breeze is freezing and the estate feels empty. The wind howls and it echoes in the emptiness of the rooms.

But still, there is warmth that lies in one of the rooms of the house. Suguru knows where to find it. He has coveted it and he has been selfish with it.

Suguru is going to come clean to the dragon. No more hiding and no more crying in a small box as he pinches a cloth in between his teeth so that his heat isn't so aching. He’ll confess to his god that he’s an omega—that he’s in preheat. He’ll bare his soul to his Satoru-sama and hold onto the little hope that the alpha will accept him and take care of him during his heat.

Whatever his Satoru-sama can give, he will take. Suguru has begged so long for love, for a willing person to hold him. Suguru’s too broken to let go of it.

And more than anything, Suguru hopes. Because he loves him and somehow that is enough for him to try.

Suguru has tried to find an opening to start the conversation they inevitably needed to have but whenever his Kami-sama is in front of him, his fear of rejection prevails and no words fall out of his mouth.

He wanted to say it before his heat starts. So now, when the sky looks like it could burst from its tears, Suguru will ask for warmth from the god, for a selfish request that he may be pardoned from his sins and play as his omega for as much as his god will let him.

The door opens and the figure of his god greets Suguru. Immediately, Suguru feels safer now that his alpha is here. His scent calms him; his omega at ease knowing that the alpha could take care of them—protect them.

Suguru tries to even out his breathing and cover the slight shake in his hands. He wants to make it seem like everything is fine, like his conversation with Shoko begging him to leave did not happen, and the outcome of his heat does not solely depend on whether the god will accept him.

But as he steps closer to Satoru, all of his planning fails him; weak in the face of the alpha. He could only hope that the god doesn’t notice it.

When he came closer, within reach, the god himself closes the gap between them and wraps the omega in his arms. If Suguru could let himself believe, it felt like there was longing and desperation to it, too.

The god snakes his hand on Suguru’s waist and pulls him flush to the god. Even though his scent bothered him, Satoru’s face would always find its way to Suguru’s neck. So close that Suguru could feel his breath on his nape.

“Kami-sama?”

“Hmm?” Was all the god answered him.

“I—I have missed you.” He tells him, softer than a whisper.

But the god catches his confession, “And I, you.” he tells Suguru.

Suguru looks at the god, so close to him that Suguru could map out the details and planes of his face.

This is the alpha that Suguru wants to die by.

“Kami-sama, I—”

“Do you want to go to my room, Suguru?” The god tells him.

Suguru looks up at him in surprise. He never expected to go near that room, for him to offer it himself.

He nods, having no words left for him to utter. It was enough for the alpha who led Suguru the way, his hand intertwined with his.

The path was dark and no light came past it. Suguru saw rooms that looked uninviting; so old that it looked like no one had touched them for a long while. He also saw those that looked new, like it was newly made and constructed.

Finally, they arrive at the god’s room. When the god opens the shoji screen, Suguru can't help but have his heart beat faster as he takes a deep breath of the room.

It smells so much like Satoru-sama, his pheromones filling every inch of the space.

His feet were planted to where they stopped, like he could no longer move his feet to get closer. The alpha had to gently push him for Suguru to remember that they were supposed to enter.

Suguru’s eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail that he could. The room was big but not spacious enough to be alienating. There were few belongings Suguru could see, small things that made it seem like Satoru-sama lived here, stayed here.

He let his hands wander, his hand brushing over the table on the left and the kimonos from the cabinet halfway open on the right. Suguru can see the bright flowers found all over the estate, now by the god’s bedside, probably picked by him, himself.

He looks to the god standing by the door. He can’t help but find him beautiful in the small moonlight that peeks into his room.

Satoru-sama walks closer to him, his hand holding Suguru, guiding it to hold his face as he rests upon it.

Satoru-sama has always been beautiful, Suguru thinks.

Satoru-sama’s face is etched so perfectly, the lines on his face making it seem so powerful and godlike. He’s so tall, he towers over Suguru who’s been mocked for being too big even for a beta. His scent, Suguru can't even begin to try and explain.

As an alpha, his scent smells like the earth and of pines—a musk so masculine even alphas find it too overwhelming. As a god, it smells of power, of having unrestrained strength—the strongest.

It makes Suguru weak in the knees, the pheromones in the room making him scent drunk. His eyes are probably hazy, his judgment clouded by the safety and protection the room is making him feel.

“Kami-sama, can I ask why am I here?” he asks, his voice slightly slurred.

“Because I wanted you here,” the god says, his hand raising to Suguru’s face, leaving tender touches on Suguru. Like he’s tracing it, etching it to memory. “And so that you may know where to find me when the time comes.”

“Has anyone ever been here before?”

“No, only ever you.” The god immediately answers.

I’m the only one.

“That makes me happy.”

The god gives him a small, gentle smile, something Suguru will treasure forever. The god holds his hand and leads him to his bed, urging him to sit in the center.

“What do you want me to do for you, Kami-sama?” Suguru asks.

“Just stay, I just want you to stay here.” The alpha tells him, sitting on the edge of the bed, simply looking at him.

And Suguru does just that. He crawls to the middle of the bed, clearly made for two and starts to roll on it like he can. He grabs the pillows on the bed, the sheets, anything he can grab onto. There's so much of it that it seems uncharacteristically plenty. He starts scenting the sheets and placing the pillows on the sides, putting himself in the middle of the maze he’s made. He wanted to drown in the pheromones of the alpha, his face deeply buried in the sheets that smelled like it was drenched with the god’s scent.

And as he tries to make it perfect, he doesn't even notice what it has now become.

It became a nest, undeniably so.

“Satoru-sama, I—”

But Suguru couldn’t finish the excuse he was gonna tell. There was already a dip in the bed. A hand circles his waist and a warmth so tender envelopes him as the god hugs him from the back.

They’re both in the nest Suguru made.

“Kami-sama?”

The god did not answer him, the silence stretching into the night. All Suguru could hear was the strong beating of the god’s heart and his breathing close to his nape. Suguru couldn’t help but close his eyes and take into memory this very moment. It feels like nothing is wrong and he is rightfully where he should be.

Time passes like this with Suguru’s soft, broken purrs being the only sound in the room.

It was the god who broke that silence first.

“Would you forgive me, Suguru? If I’ve ever done you wrong?” The god asks.

Suguru wishes he could see the god’s face right this moment, puzzled at the question he is being asked. When do gods need to apologize? When are they ever wrong? Why is the alpha asking him this?

“Gods don’t need it, Satoru-sama. You don’t need to ask me.” he answers, cautiously.

“Then just me, Suguru. As Satoru. Would you forgive me?”

Confused, he answers honestly. “Yes.”

That seemed to make the god happy as he moves Suguru to face him.

He caresses his face and touches his eyes, his nose, and his lips. It felt so gentle, something so pure and filled with longing. Suguru feels it in the burden of his heart.

“I want to chain you to me, Suguru.”

“Satoru-sama, touch me.”

The god did not waste any time and did what he was told. His lips latch to Suguru’s neck and he does his best to undress the slave. All Suguru wants is to fall into his arms and follow him. Whatever the god wanted, Suguru would follow with ease. He wanted worse, even. He wanted the god inside him.

He’s naked and his god has made a chain of purples and blues in his neck. His hand roams as he fondles or gropes the skin on his hips and thighs.

All Suguru could do is moan and latch onto the alpha like he’d fall if he let go. It feels different than the times they’ve spent together, it feels desperate, it feels like they both needed it.

They touch every skin that they could touch all the while Satoru-sama’s hands ghost close to his cunt. Suguru can feel his slick dripping into the god, his mind slowly getting hazy from the way the god touches him.

“Kiss me, Kami-sama, please,” Suguru pleads in between breaths, “You can do worse to me.”

He moves his hips, rutting to the alpha, and whimpering because the god won’t put it inside him. “Please, please, fuck me, Kami-sama.”

“Suguru, I–I can’t.” The god tells him, which breaks his heart.

The god ignored his pleas and fucked Suguru with his hands and mouth alone. All Suguru could do was sob and moan, addled and disoriented by the pleasure and sadness he both felt.

When he reached his orgasm, he couldn’t even remember if the god had reached the same. All Suguru could focus on was his breathing and the small heartbreak forming in his chest.

He looks to the alpha, his chest rising up and down as well. Even with the bindings covering his eyes, he knows that he’s looking at Suguru. It feels painful, the way he gazes at him. It feels like a goodbye.

“Just a little more.” The god whispers as he moves, more to himself than to Suguru. “Just wait for me a little more and everything will be where it should be.”

“Kami-sama, where are you going?” He asks in a panic, looking at the god who has already detangled himself from the bed, their nest.

“Stay here, Suguru and I'll return to you.” The god tells him, his gaze now away from the omega in his bed. “As I always have.” He tells him as he leaves him alone.

The shoji screen closes with a thud and Suguru is left there in the god’s bed, slick running in his thighs with his heart pounding like it would break his rib cage. His eyes become glassy, the start of his tears gathering in his eyes but not enough to fall yet.

He wasn’t even given the chance to confess, to tell the god that he was an omega, that he needed him because his heat is coming.

He didn’t even notice the whimper he’s letting out, the scent of his distress replacing the god’s scent in his room.

He could feel the tears fall into his cheeks, the sobs bubbling into his lips. But even though he was in preheat, though his heart felt drained, Suguru still had the mind to rush to his god, to ask him for answers.

The way he looked and touched Suguru couldn’t just be lies. He feels it, he knows it.

With that, he wipes his tears and detangles himself from the mess, intending to follow the god. He tries to calm himself down because this is not the time for him to cry.

He removes himself from his nest, from the very nest that felt more perfect than anything he’s ever done. He leaves the room that was covered in Satoru-sama’s nest and follows him in just his sheets to cover himself. 

I love him, I love him, I love him so much.

Why does it hurt to do so? Why is he not enough for him?

His body moved on its own, his mind still reeling from the abandonment he feels. He needs to find the alpha, needs to tell him he needs him. Suguru needs him.

But the pathway is long and winding, completely unfamiliar to Suguru. It’s dark and Suguru could no longer remember the pathway outside.

In his desperation, Suguru opens all the doors he encounters. He does not even care for the punishment he might receive. He just wants to find the alpha, he just wants answers.

He opens them, door after door, new and old. He follows where his scent was the strongest and came face to face with the biggest room in the estate.

When he opens it, he was met with the god’s pheromones, even stronger than what he could smell in the god’s own room.

And yet, there was no trace of Satoru-sama there. Instead, Suguru saw hundreds, if not thousands of drawings, paintings, and sculptures of an omega.

The pieces are littered throughout the entirety of the space of the room, some torn to shreds, some broken. Some are neatly piled and placed on tables, and some are haphazardly found on the floor.

The omega in the paintings is beautiful; long black hair, fox-eyed with a small mole underneath their delicate lips. Sometimes, they’re drawn to be smiling with their eyes turned into lines, some with a soft look in their eyes.

Suguru cannot describe them clearly, his tears filling his eyes, his vision blurry with it.

They are drawn with so much love, so much devotion. Suguru knows that this is his Kami-sama’s mate.

And it's not him.

It’s not Suguru.

And as he looks at the sudden sound in the room, with his cheeks caked with his tears, he could see Satoru in the middle of it, his face guilty, downcast.

“Have you found them?” Was all he could ask, his voice broken, his omega in pain.

Satoru nods and Suguru could not help the guttural sob that spills on his lips, the anguished whine that was all his omega could do.

Strong, steady hands wrap around him and yet it doesn’t feel enough, like its warmth has been lost to the cold, unfeeling truth Suguru had to know.

“Suguru, please.” The god pleads with him like a prayer and yet all Suguru could do was sob more, cry more.

Why, why does it feel like it pains him as well?

The god hooks his hand under his chin, raising his gaze at the god he foolishly loved. He caresses Suguru’s face oh so gently that Suguru, even in his sorrows, couldn’t help but press further into it.

Even when all his pain is because of him, he still asks the god for comfort, for protection.

Suguru truly is foolish.

The god gives him a chaste kiss on the lips just like he always wanted and yet it feels all the more painful, like a goodbye, like a sorry.

In his kiss, the god confesses to him, “My omega has found me, Suguru,” and it took all of Suguru’s strength not to wail in front of the alpha. “Forgive me, Suguru. Forgive me, please.”

But in the same breath, Satoru painfully withdrew his arms from Suguru and walked away from him.

And even then, with a broken voice, he still calls out to him because even so, Suguru did not want him to leave.

But Satoru left, and he left him there to weep.

 

Notes:

:,,,(((( (Sorry hehe)

Chapter 8: 茶色 | Chairo

Summary:

Chairo · Brown

 

a reflection of the earth; of strength, durability, and endurance

Notes:

WE'VE REACHED 500 KUDOS OMG??!1!?1!?/!//

I would have never thought I'd reach those numbers so for everyone who is still here, thank you so much for the kudos, comments, and everything! lol. Its been a rough idk how many weeks since last upload because somehow its become necessary to spiral a little before an update BUT ANYWAYS just to share, this chapter (and the next one) is simply the reason why I wrote this fic. like, this idea sprung to life in a humid night and it just never left me.

anyways enough yap HERE WE GO

---

 

Suguru waited.

He waited in that room with his tears no longer violent but a steady stream on his face. There was no voice for him to call out on the wind anymore—no alpha to confess to.

Suguru wanted to tear the painting closest to him but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t change anything. All he could do was stare at it and look at the face of the omega that has begun to warp, their features changing and changing.

Nonetheless, the ink starts to bleed from his tears and Suguru washes his hands from the guilt of destroying it himself.

He didn’t leave the painting room even when the sun rised. If the others tried to find him, Suguru would not hear them. Deep into the estate, all Suguru did was stare into nothingness and replay what had happened.

When night fell again, he went out of the room with his footsteps without purpose and his eyes hollowed. Suguru’s body hurts. His bones are creaking and his mating gland is heating up like a furnace, an indication of his upcoming heat.

That drop of sweet, sugary scent that was once there is now masked by Suguru’s sorrow like a poison to his scent.

But he wasn’t alone in the estate. There, by the mouth of the god’s home, stands a clan member.

It was the same woman who greeted him when he first came here. She looked different, somehow. She was strict and her eyes had never met his before. Now, she looked happy; enough to look Suguru in the eye.

“You look disgusting.” It was the first thing she told him.

Suguru didn’t even flinch at her scathing words. Maybe she is right. With all that happened, Suguru did not have it in himself to make himself presentable, or to even mask the pheromones people once vehemently told him was aggravating.

It is probably worse now, like the decay of a corpse.

“Where is everyone?” She asks, her hand in her mouth.

Suguru takes a step back, his voice hoarse. “I’m all alone. The others have already taken their rest.”

She nods, her lips nothing but a thin line to communicate how displeased she is.

“Nevermind. It is enough that you are here.” She tells Suguru and then she smiles, blinding. “Satoru-sama has just shared the greatest news this land will ever see. A start of glory, a rebirth, you might say.”

“He has found his mate, the divine omega!” She exclaims, bearing the news that further broke Suguru’s heart.

“It is the emperor’s daughter, a Zenin! She will be arriving at the estate within three moons. The clan will be preparing the festivities, the celebration! All of it! The whole Nippon will be celebrating this moment of a birth of a new god.” She exclaims, her eyes shimmering with what could be tears.

She wipes her eyes with an exaggerated display. “All that the clan expects from you servants are to welcome his mate and the attendants she will be bringing.”

“Satoru-sama has asked for a solemn mating, no grand ceremonies and no clan members.” She says a little displeased. “But it doesn’t matter. He wants everything to take place in his home. He has informed us that he will be going through his rut and it is not often that our god informs us of this matter. The clan wants everything to be perfect.”

She straightens her back and looks Suguru dead in the eye. “Since Satoru-sama’s soulmate has been found, it is imperative that nothing goes wrong. As it stands, Satoru-sama doesn't want strangers in his house. Thus, before their mating, you are to attend to all the needs of the imperial daughter. All of it. Do you understand?”

The clan member gives a long list of reminders to Suguru. To do this and that, to make sure everything is perfect between the alpha and omega, between the god and his soulmate. To make sure that their affairs before and after their mating are all in order. A match between heaven and earth.

A god and a mortal.

This was Satoru-sama’s answer to Suguru’s waiting. A name for the omega Suguru has been crying to.

Every word coming out of the woman’s mouth becomes obscure just like a simple ringing in his ears, like he’s been drowned in the ocean and his senses have become dull.

He can feel her drone out Suguru’s duties, what he should do, how he should act. But his chest is so heavy that Suguru could not help the fresh start of tears in his tired eyes, the way his breathing is stuttered and so shallow. It's so painful that he feels like his knees are giving up.

“Why me?” Suguru whispers, his mouth forcing the words out of him like bile. He doesn’t even notice he’s said it out loud.

“He asked me to send the news himself.”

Oh.

Suguru feels his heart breaking like his chest has been struck and he’s bleeding out. He can’t help the tears that sting his eyes, how it flows so rapidly off of him. Everything feels so hazy, like a nightmare or a sick dream. He couldn’t feel his limbs, like his body has given up and he stands simply as a ghost.

Maybe before this, Suguru still had an inkling of hope that the god would come back to him. That this was a sick, sadistic, and depraved test that Suguru had to pass in order to stay by the god’s side. But this is it. And in his sorrow, there is a drop of anger that he could not contain.

Satoru’s mate.

The clan member looks at this frail-bodied beta whose tears flow like a waterfall. He looks pitiful. And simply without reason, she finds happiness in his sorrows. Whatever it may be.

The clan member gives a small upturn in the corner of her lips, a sadistic one, before picking herself up and readying to leave. “I know you are also happy about this great news. But wash out your scent and clean the house. It reeks and a slave like you has no right.”

And with that, she leaves.

Meanwhile, Suguru blinks and blinks, trying to find clarity when his tears are all he can see. His fingers fly to his chest, banging on it like it would make his breathing better but it doesn’t. He walks inside the estate, dragging his feet one after another but everything is blurry and his limbs simply do not feel attached to his body.

He trudges in the estate, his feet heavy as it somehow drags himself close to the god’s wing. But before he could open it, his legs give out. When he gets a whiff of the god’s scent, Suguru could not help the scream he lets out. A painful wail of an omega who’s been rejected.

He screams and screams, his lungs heaving from the painful sob he’s letting out. His scent is so nauseating that it reeks through all the corners of the house. Suguru is not in his right head anymore. His omega is clawing, going to the forefront to share the pain and suffering it is experiencing from the news that was just given.

He didn’t want us; alpha found his mate, he’s replacing us. He’s throwing us like trash!

Suguru is crumbling on the floor. His body couldn’t take it. Suguru’s emotions are everywhere and all he can feel is rejection and agonizing pain.

Suguru feels like he’s being stabbed. He couldn’t remember being hurt like this. It amounts to nothing, to all the pain he’s experienced.

Suguru feels like his soul is dying.

A-Alpha is leaving us. He's leaving us!

His omega is in pain and Suguru can’t do anything about it.

But then again, Does Suguru even have the right to mourn such a thing?

He’s a defective omega born from Shadowed Soul parents. He’s a slave whose body carries every whip and mark that has come to his life. He’s an omega only by his flesh. His scent is of decay, his body is repulsive, and his mating gland is torn and mangled.

What gave Suguru the right to hope for something better?

Is it because we’re ugly? W-wha-what did we do wrong?

To expect, from a god no less. How could he think someone like him will ever amount to someone who could be with Satoru? Even if it was just for pleasure? Satoru did not say anything that could lead Suguru to hope so badly.

He was just a willing body and Satoru used him as he saw fit. Suguru has no right to cry this horribly right now. To reek his scent of anguish like his pain is deserving of it.

But Suguru feels like he’s being torn apart. Because in all Suguru has ever told, that he was shameless, that he didn't feel guilt, or that it's enough, that he was just a willing body, Suguru let himself believe that it was fine to yearn and hope.

That he can allow himself to yearn for Satoru-sama to love him even when it's hard and unlikely. Even when all he can offer is only all that he is.

Suguru could not be mated; he knows this. His nape is mutilated and numb. No bite will ever be strong enough to undo that. Suguru is gonna die not seeing colors—die being a slave.

And yet, the realization doesn’t hurt as much as the thought of this alpha being with another. Having a mate, loving another omega, and having pups.

It pains him so much that he can’t breathe right.

S-suguru, W-we need him. Alpha…

Suguru will have no alpha, no Satoru. He’ll be left with only bitter memories of something he once held so dearly.

 

 

Suguru feels like a shell of what he once was.

When his tears dry down, Suguru feels empty and numb. His body is sore and his legs and arms feel apart from his own. His hands hasn’t stopped trembling and he doesn’t think he can stand yet.

But as he blinks and blinks through his tears, he remembers he’s a slave and a servant. He was not bought into this clan to mourn what he did not have in the first place.

Against the pain of his body and the weight of his heart, he crawls to his room and takes a bath; his body is so numb that he doesn’t know if the water is freezing or scalding. He scratches himself clean of Satoru-sama’s scent and as his hands graze his scars, he reminds himself that he is a slave and nothing more. That the pain he feels is simply a transaction in return for a moment of feeling loved.

He changes his kimono, the tattered and torn one, the one he had before his god had favored him and puts blistering leaves on his nape. He drinks the remaining tea he has left and drinks it like it would not burn him.

Suguru opens all the windows to clear out his scent and he did not sleep and cleaned and cleaned until the estate was spotless. Until it bears no scent of his anguish. Of his humiliation in thinking Satoru will come to love him. He cleans and cleans, ready to receive his Kami-sama’s mate.

When the time comes, he will receive this woman with his knees on the floor. Because he is a slave and that’s all he ever was and will be.

 

---

 

When the other servants arrived, they were informed of the news by Suguru himself. However, no one received the news too kindly, not when Suguru looked like he was gonna collapse.

His eyes are red (as painfully seen by Haibara and Nanami) and his scent, as much as he tried to clean it, clinged to the walls of the estate.

They heard him, too, last night.

But the others did not know how to address it, not when they were unclear of the sudden cause of his distress. Even when some have suspected it. Even when some know.

During the days of sudden preparation, Suguru took most of the work. He worked double, triple than what he usually does. He wouldn’t listen to reason or soft persuasion to rest. He evaded their presence as much as possible and labored from morning til nightfall, taking up work that wasn't his with his knees stuck on the floor from how hard he’s brushing it.

Haibara can see Suguru’s exhaustion, how he sometimes feel separate from his body, unable to hear when his name is being called or when his movements become slow and repetitive, like in a trance.

Shoko could only look at Suguru with pity, unable to do anything for Suguru and the situation he has found himself in. There was no longer anger in Shoko, only sympathy, even regret in not being able to convince Suguru to leave earlier.

“You can still leave,” Shoko says to Suguru when it is just them in the engawa. The sun is starting to set and tomorrow, all of them will greet the imperial princess, another god they will have to serve after.

They’re not looking at each other, a silent understanding that they don’t need to look at each other or touch to have this within themself.

“You were right. I was foolish,” Suguru says, his eyes heavy. “I should have listened to you.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Shoko says, a pained smile on her face. “You know this isn’t necessary to do, Suguru. All of this. Do not do this for him.”

Suguru hooks his hair in front of his face and Shoko can see how tired he is. Suguru has always been beautiful in her eyes but she can see how tired he is, how this is eating him alive.

“I’m simply doing what was asked of me.” He says. “As I always have.”

And with that, he leaves to clean the estate some more.

Shoko knows that everyone’s devotion to the god is profound and undying. However, during this moment, looking at Suguru, the beta cannot help but think of his cruelty.

Shoko wishes he is right.

 

---

 

When the imperial princess came along with her attendants, all of them bowed in respect to her and the role she represented. But Suguru knelt down to his knees with his head on the floor. It was a painful display to watch. But Suguru, for some reason, felt it necessary.

Zenin Tsuma was Emperor Naobito’s thirteenth child. Excluding those Naobito had with Shadowed Soul omegas, Tsuma was his second legitimate child and his first omega.

From the very moment Tsuma presented, her clan has groomed her to become the White Scaled Dragon’s mate. In place of lessons on running Nippon, Tsuma’s lessons consisted of childbearing and becoming a good wife. Other than what is necessary for her to learn like reading and writing, all she learned was how to roll on her back and take whatever the god could possibly give her.

She was not permitted to go out unless she risked having a scar on her body and she was not allowed to let her feet touch the floor. Unlike those who were entitled to their youth, Tsuma’s privileged life led her to be a caged jewel.

Tsuma, from the day she was born, was raised only to be an omega and omega only. Her identity is only that of her secondary gender. To suffer in pain was nothing as long as the name of her clan is mixed with the blood of a god. It did not matter that they already lord over Nippon. No, only godhood would be enough for the clan.

And so when the news reached her ears, Tsuma was ready to carry the role expected of her. This was simply the only reason she is alive, the reason she is not touched by anyone else.

She would be damned if she doesn't have the mating bite of the alpha on her neck tomorrow evening.

Tsuma looked down on the beta whose face is planted on the floor. Though nervous, Zenin Tsuma found the act and display of subservience satisfactory. She liked it. It instilled in her that no matter in the presence of the god’s domain, she is still an imperial daughter. There is still weight in her title.

All those years of servitude are long gone. Here, she has power and it feels intoxicating.

And when she is a god, she will be above no one other than her mate. The whims of no one will affect her no longer.

And it doesn’t sound bad being the White Scaled Dragon’s soulmate, his omega.

“Next time, I want all of you to welcome me with your knees on the floor. Do not think that you can simply receive the dragon’s mate like this.” She says, her voice slowly filling with confidence, satisfaction.

“Understood?”

“Understood.” They say in unison.

She looks to her attendants, two betas who look newly presented, and commands them. “Maki, Mai, take my belongings to the god’s room and ready everything that I need tonight. Everything has to be perfect.”

However, before the betas could take another step, Suguru stops them. “Ojou-sama, I regret to inform you that your attendants cannot enter the estate.” He pauses, “You cannot also enter the god’s quarters.”

Sudden anger flashes in Tsuma at the beta who thinks he has the right to answer her. Who does he think he is?

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Her voice slightly rises, her anger evident in her scent. “ Who do you think you are? You—”

Before it escalates, Nanami answers her, “We apologize. However, it was the Gojo clan who told us to abide by these rules. It is from the dragon himself. As his attendants, we are to follow them without fail, without exceptions.”

Her eyes harden and her jaw tightens.

“He is the only one allowed to stay at the estate at night,” He motions to Suguru. “He'll take care of you until then.” He pauses, “...Ojou-sama.”

For a moment, they were at an impasse, the imperial princess deciding whether she’ll question the decision of the servants of the house.

She chooses not to for now.

She steels her eyes heavy and drags her ornate kimono past them, stepping into Suguru’s hands that are still planted on the floor.

“Lead me to it.”

Without a pause for his stinging fingers, Suguru follows.

 

---

 

Suguru assisted the imperial princess in all her whims. As the future mistress of the estate, he welcomed her into her new home and fulfilled his duty as a servant of hers.

But sometimes, even Suguru notices his betrayal towards his façade. When Tsuma is situated in her room, the closest to the god’s wing, Suguru cannot help the spike of jealousy and ache he feels.

But he shuts it down just as quickly as he feels it. It just simply won’t do him any good.

When night came, Suguru felt Satoru-sama’s presence in the estate. Though it was near impossible, Satoru’s scent somehow became stronger, sharper—more dangerous. A clear indication of his impending rut.

“Is that him?” The imperial princess asks.

“Yes, Ojou-sama.”

“H-he…Will he be seeing me tonight?” Tsuma asks, awe and exhilaration coursing through her body. The fear and thrill are evident in her scent.

“It is up to the White Dragon if he will, Ojou-sama. I am, however, unaware of his decision.” Suguru says flatly, not letting his conflicting emotions get the best of him. He cannot afford to release his scent.

“Ah, well then. The clan said Kami-sama’s rut might come by tomorrow night. He might approach me by then if it's true.”

She pauses and looks at Suguru.

“An alpha who found his soulmate will always pursue his omega, even if he’s a god. Isn't that right, low born?”

“Yes, Ojou-sama.”

The term did not go past Suguru and the evident distaste this woman has for him.

Knowing that she won't get anything from the servant, Tsuma quickly lets her disinterest be evident. “I have no need for you right now and I don’t want you here if my alpha comes. Leave.”

Before he can leave her quarters, he sees her pinch her nose in disgust.

 

 

When he leaves her quarters, Suguru couldn’t help but sag his shoulders and let out a shaky exhale deep from his lungs. The lack of scent-dampening leaves from Shoko has greatly affected his body, making his symptoms more intense, worse.

He’s so tired that he thinks he’ll crash on the floor he’s standing on. But before Suguru could even turn to his quarters, the figure of the god stood in the way.

It made Suguru stop in his tracks. The god is right in front of him and he still looks like the same alpha Suguru loves. Always has.

But more than loving him, seeing him is painful. Like Suguru is being laughed upon by fate. Like he’s being teased with the image of his arrogance and eagerness to be loved.

Suguru feels angry at himself for knowing that his eyes are already stinging, knowing that if he gets closer to Satoru, he’ll burst into tears.

Satoru-sama is just standing there, his blindfold tight around his eyes. It feels like they’re in a standstill. Suguru doesn’t know what to say.

“Suguru,” his Kami-sama says and Suguru cannot help but cover his lips from the whine he almost slips out.

“Suguru, I—” The alpha repeats and this time he’s slowly moving to Suguru. His strides are long and careful, like he’s approaching a wounded animal, which Suguru thinks is what he is: a wounded animal.

Suguru can’t help the feeling that he’s being cornered by the god. For whatever reasons, Suguru doesn’t know.

Before Satoru could get any closer, Suguru speaks, simply to stop whatever it is the god is about to say. To stop whatever it is that would undoubtedly hurt him.

“Kami-sama, congratulations on finding your soulmate. I find great happiness in your impending union,” he says as he bows, each word bringing him discomfort to utter. He can’t look at the god in his eyes, bindings or not. “I heard of the great celebration Nippon is having outside of these walls. I am glad for you.”

“I apologize for the way I reacted the last time we saw each other. I have overstepped my bounds. I became arrogant, I apologize.”

“Suguru, please, don’t do this.”

“Do what, my Lord?” He says while he continues to avert his gaze, scared to see the god’s eyes on him.

“Act like I don’t mean anything to you.”

Suguru feels like he’s been punched in the gut, his chest aching. How could the god ask him that?

“But I am nothing to you, Kami-sama,” Suguru says, a hint of courage and anger in his words. “When you told me you found your mate, I ceased to be something to you. I was never something to you.”

“Was it because you knew I wanted you? Or is it because I was too eager for you and you did not want that?” Suguru continues, his weakened state of mind making him honest. “Or because I was a slave?”

“It was none of those,” The god shakes his head, gently, as if trying to convey to Suguru his answer. “I promised you I’ll return to you.”

“Return to me as you bring her home?” Suguru asks, “Will you ask me to warm your bed while she waits in another room?”

“That would never happen.” The god snarls.

“Then I am all the same as your other servants, Kami-sama. You do not have to act like I mean anything to you.” Suguru tells him.

There's an uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air. Suguru feels breathless, like his words have made him run miles. There is a bite in his words, clear anger and pain that he might not be deserving of feeling in the first place. But maybe this is when his god is merciful, to let Suguru be entitled to his pain when it was he who took the chance in the first place.

He tries to compose himself, like the conversation does not affect him and tries to change the subject of their conversation.

“I would like to request something from the White-Scaled Dragon if he could have it in his heart to grant it.” He says as his hands shake slightly behind his back.

He looks up at the alpha whom he has shared everything with. The god whom he found solace and devotion. He loves him still. Suguru doesn’t think he will ever not love him. But looking at him breaks Suguru’s heart into a million pieces. What can he do other than to give himself a little kindness?

“Please, I ask you to sell me to another. I no longer have any place in your home. I will take any master you can throw me to, any who can stomach having me. Any. I would like to leave.” He pauses, “In your infinite mercy, please let me.”

“Why?” The god asks.

He stares at the god, at the way he sounds like he is hurt, too. Suguru thinks that loving gods can be tricky. They feel like they love you, too.

“I cannot be here anymore.” He says with a whisper, like it brings him shame to admit that he could not bear to see the god with another. “Wash your hands of the dirt I have left you and let me leave.”

But instead of reprieve, all Suguru receive is the spike of anger that fused with Satoru’s scent.

And if Suguru wasn’t so heartbroken from everything, he would have noticed how much powerful it is.

“Why?” He asks again. “Will you do the same to your new master if I let you go, Suguru?”

“As long as they’ll have me, Kami-sama,” Suguru answers, half-heartedly, just answering the god for the sake of it. “If it is what is needed, then who is a slave like I am to say no?”

The scent becomes stronger, deeper, unbearable.

“No.”

No.

“There is no need. I won’t be giving you to anyone.”

Somehow, the god’s answer stunned Suguru. He simply expected the god to let him go easily. “Kami-sama, please. I—I have nothing to offer you anymore.”

The god’s jaw hardens, “I am kind, Suguru but this is not the kindness I can give you.” He continues, “I’m not letting you go. I won’t let you.”

Before the god leaves, there is a growl rumbling in his throat, his voice menacing. “Try to run, Suguru and I will find you. I will.”

 

---

 

When Suguru found his way to his quarters, he feels like he's been emptied. He slumps on his bed and buries his head on his pillow, his tears immediately soaking it. His conversation with the god felt like an end. But even then, he’s never totally free.

To serve Satoru and his omega. To be there when they mate, when her nape is bitten and red, to be there when she’s heavy with Satoru’s pups, and to be there to see these pups bear no resemblance to Suguru.

Suguru feels like his heart has turned to dust by how much it continues to break.

We should’ve just pleaded the god to fuck us. Kneeled, cried, anything. Maybe, maybe we would be round with pups now, maybe he wouldn’t leave us. He would stay, maybe we don’t have to deal with someone stealing our alpha, he would’ve stayed, he would’ve been ours…

He shakes his head from the dark and deranged thoughts his omega is rambling as it becomes more panicked and desperate. With the way his omega is acting like an animal, Suguru knows that he does not have much time before his heat hits him.

Suguru could now imagine how excruciating it would be to experience the epitome of his omeganhood after he lost the alpha who he thought would nurse him through it. It would feel like death lasting more than a day.

Suguru shudders thinking about it, a whine slipping past his lips. He has to leave the estate–even leave the forest. If it gets worse, he has to find a shed, a room, or even a clear patch in the forest to maybe spend his heat there.

Suguru should run away; that’s the only way he’ll be able to leave. Regardless of the god’s empty threats of finding him. He’s not important enough to be chased.

Suguru kinda finds it funny, how he’s about to experience the same excruciating and humiliating feeling of spending his heat like an animal and a wasted whore.

But then again, what choice does he have? He cannot have his heat in the estate. The presence of another omega would not please the imperial princess.

We were here first…

Yeah but what good did that bring to Suguru?

Even though the wind that carries into his room is cold, Suguru thinks that the room is still too hot. He can feel the same with his body, too. The rejection and stress of everything became too much for his body to bear.

He needs to cool down, to feel anything but the heat that’s making him sweat. He sheds the layers of his kimono until he's naked in his bed. It's not enough but it’s enough for Suguru to feel a little cool.

The world is so silent. The wind whispers past his windows and the candles littered in his room flicker until it is all blown out.

Suguru could not help but drag his fingers to his mating gland.

It's ragged and a different, lighter color than his skin. It's shallow with raised skin that encompasses his whole nape.

Suguru thinks that when his mother, with all intents and purposes, wanted to end his life, it instead severed his mating gland.

He does not resent his mother for doing it, but he sometimes resents her for having the mercy of biting him. Had she been a little cruel, the knife would’ve done the job.

If he was not damaged, would he be enough to warm Satoru’s bed? Pretty enough? Wet enough?

But then again, how was Suguru supposed to compete with fate—of a soulmate?

Suguru lies on his bed, his pussy wet and needy, slick running against his thigh, asking for an alpha. The alpha he chose. His mouth waters and his fangs start to itch. To bite. Anything.

Suguru, Alpha. Alpha, please!

But instead, Suguru snakes his hands in his abdomen, one on his shoulder and another on his waist. His hands mildly shake from the need to just touch himself. But Suguru can't. Not when the only thoughts he’ll ever have are for the man who just found his soulmate.

It was a long and agonizing night for Suguru. He even dreams of hands that caress him just to soothe him; soft but firm hands moving the hair sticking in his sweaty forehead and a hand on his waist moving to trace his hips.

It brings him both pain and comfort but eventually, sleep consumes him.

 

---

 

When morning came, Suguru felt unease in the pit of his stomach. His heat is so close, it could happen at any time of the day.

But his work stands first. And even if all Suguru wants to do is to run, to find solace in a place where he cannot be hurt, his duty to his god comes first. He promised to repay him for that one fateful night he saved him. This is it.

When all is done and Satoru is mated, all of Nippon will celebrate while Suguru mourns. He will leave and the trace of his scent will be all that's left of him. If he is caught, Suguru will meet his end by Satoru’s hands or any who is kind enough to end it.

Suguru exits his room and every step he takes, he feels like his bones pop in different places, like he walks on a tightrope. The estate is silent and the scent of a god on a rut reeks the place. Even when the estate is all open walls and windows, his scent evades Suguru so much that he stumbles a little, almost knocking a vase in his dazed state of mind.

Suguru can feel his rationality slip. The omegan side of him wants to completely display submission, that he is an omega in heat.

But Suguru can’t. Not when everything is on the line.

Only the three of them are in the estate. The others are not permitted to come in, lest they agitate the already aggressive alpha god in a rut. Suguru was told to do the same. The clan told Suguru that during their mating, they would not need food nor water. Their bond would simply sustain each other. When he is done assisting the imperial daughter, he is to leave their home.

And when that moment comes, Suguru will run and never come back.

Suguru trudges to Tsuma’s quarters and wakes the imperial daughter. When he does, he can see the reaction that courses through her body. Her legs almost give out and Suguru can smell the inconspicuous scent of her slick, her clothes sticking to her sweat.

The sudden scent of jealousy and anger swept over Suguru. It takes him a considerable amount of restraint for his scent not to slip out.

Another omega. Competition.

Throughout the whole day, before night time breaks out, Suguru takes on the role of a subservient and compliant servant and lowly slave. When a small amount of his slick seeps out, he ignores the signals of his heat and braves through it.

 

---

 

The night is closing in on them. Their mating, a ceremony for all of Nippon, is fast approaching. Satoru’s scent, if even possible, is becoming even stronger—stronger than it ever was. Suguru can even say it almost envelopes the whole estate, the whole mountain. Suguru would not be shocked if the whole of Nippon even feels it in the air. The dragon’s growl reaches the imperial daughter’s room and leaves goosebumps on Suguru’s skin.

He wants to be with him.

Let us be with him, Suguru…

Tsuma, this Zenin mutt—

Ah.

Tsuma, the imperial daughter, also anticipates their impending union. Since her attendants cannot stay (against her wishes and strong disapproval), Suguru is the only one to assist her.

This woman wants his Kami-sama. He can feel it through her scent. The shy scent of lust wafting from her is enough to confirm it. Her knees keep bobbing up and down, her nerves getting the best of her.

However, Suguru can also smell the victory and pride in her scent. Of being high above the others, of being the chosen one. She’s the only omega ever deserving of a god. She will be higher now that she’s to be the god's mate. It's evident in her smile and the way she carries herself.

She is beautiful, younger. Suguru finds it funny how he once thought he could compete.

To ease her nerves, she rambles and dissects her smallest features towards perfection. Suguru could not have it in his heart to listen or even care.

This woman is younger than him. Her skin is fair with no scars or imperfections marring her skin. Her scent is of lotus flowers and most importantly, her nape is clear and ready to be bitten. Ready to be mated.

Suguru cannot help the bitterness, anger, and jealousy that he feels towards her. His overflowing malice against this woman.

With her inner robe on and her ceremonial robe still hanging (courtesy of the Gojo Clan), Suguru carefully brushes her hair in front of the mirror, readying her Taka Shimada.

“What are you in this house?” She asks, looking at Suguru through the mirror and examining him.

“I am a servant, Tsuma-sama,” Suguru says, gliding the comb through her hair. He feigns interest in the conversation.

“The others are servants. That, you are not.” She says, irritated by his dismissal and disinterest.

“I am a slave, Ojou-sama.” Suguru answers, head casted downwards.

“Hmm,” She answers as if to examine and scrutinize Suguru again.

But then she clicks her hands on the table and flicks Suguru’s hand that was about to brush the strands that fell close to her face.

“I can't for the life of me understand why a shadowed soul, lowborn like you could serve Satoru,” She says, looking at her reflection in the mirror—inspecting, scanning if her reflection looks fit for a woman who will be ravaged by a god.

Suguru cannot help but notice how she has now called Satoru-sama as just Satoru. It fills Suguru with envy and resentment. She should not be able to do that.

‘But she can,’ Suguru couldn't help but think. She is his mate.

“I mean, even the imperial palace does not accept children born by Shadowed Souls. They are cursed and ill-omened. Gods do not favor them. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Suguru replies, because saying no is not an answer.

“You are lucky that my servants cannot be with me tonight. Should you think someone dirty like you can touch me.” She points out, making Suguru stop midway as he prepares her hair. He was about to finish, her hair only missing a hairpin.

“Ask to be removed immediately when I am mated. Your scent is putrid and it clings to these walls.”

“Do you understand me, lowborn?”

 

Suddenly, the air in the room feels hostile.

Suguru does not know how to reply. He doesn’t think he wants to. Suguru feels like he’s being attacked and his omega does not like it.

He’s in so much pain that Suguru’s head keeps an escalating numbing buzz. He’s not safe and he’s not in his nest. Instead of rolling on the floor, Suguru’s omega feels hostile and in danger.

“These are going to be my walls now. Do you get that?”

He needs Satoru so much. Why isn't he here?

She moves out of her chair, scraping it in the process as she faces Suguru.

Her hubris is now all that Suguru can see from her pretty face. She knows her position in the estate as a future mate of a god. Where is the need to mask her words? To cater to the likes of a lowborn bitch that is not close to her worth?

A slave. A flawed, disgusting beta who saunters into the estate of the alpha who’s gonna be hers.

'He does not have the right.' Is what she thinks.

Her once angelic face twists into something so vile.

“You think you can prance around this house and think you own it?” She walks closer to him, her scent unforgiving and threatening. She crowds Suguru because she can—because she’s Satoru’s mate.

“I can smell you,” She says, her eyes narrowing to slits, pointing an accusatory finger to Suguru. She says it with a bite, almost like a threat. Her hostility is so visible in the way he’s forcing Suguru into a corner.

Like some prey.

“I can smell you–it's nasty and vulgar. But I can smell it.”

Suguru’s breath hitch. His body shakes. No, this can't be.

“You think of me stupid! Like I do not know!” She screams, her eyes are dark with so much hatred. Suguru feels like he cannot breathe. He takes small steps, his feet shaking so much.

“But I know,” She continues, “You want him.”

Suguru’s heart sinks to the bottom of his feet. Suguru feels like all the air in the room fades, like he cannot breathe. Like he’s not supposed to. His eyes widen at the secret he was supposed to take to the grave.

Her jaw is clenched so tightly it looks painful. Suguru could only swallow what little moisture he had in his mouth. He can hear his heart racing on his chest like it aches to claw out.

But she relents, her breathing erratic and her words clipped and biting. “Do you think I do not notice how his scent clings on you? How your eyes linger in his room?”

“What? Did you steal his clothes? Went to his room? Like a pervert, a criminal?”

Suguru remains silent, his body shaking so much. He cannot reply. It is what he did. It is true.

Suddenly, a violent growl echoes through the room they occupy. Satoru-sama is in his rut and he calls for his mate.

Both of them stop in their tracks and Suguru cranes his neck to the god’s direction, a whine almost slipping from his lips. But Tsuma notices it and looks at Suguru, her lips curling into a sneer.

“Is that why you’re acting like an omega?” She smiles, all her teeth visible in the front. “Is that it?” She chuckles.

With that, she openly laughs. Her laugh bubbling in the very pit of her chest as it burst so loudly and so demeaning. It attacks Suguru to his very core.

What did he do to deserve being treated like he’s not human? Her voice is all Suguru could hear at the moment.

“Is that why you’re trying to smell like an omega? Like you have a cunt wet enough for an alpha? You think someone like Satoru would touch you? You think he can stomach looking at you?”

Her voice sounds like this makes her happy. Like it was entertainment.

His lips tremble and tears gather in his eyes. His whimpers claw out of his mouth and his scent has begun to change into something so harrowing. His hold on the hairpin tightens like it's the only thing that makes him stand upright.

“He is too holy to sully the likes of you, beta.” A smug smile appears on her lips. “And when his knot tightens inside of me and I am mated, I will tell him how a slave like you fantasized about him.”

“And he will laugh just like I do because he will not stand the idea of being mated to someone like you.”

“To desire a god is preposterous, more so coming from a slave like you.” She giggles. “Dirt would be cleaner.” With that, she turns her back on Suguru, leaving him trembling as his whole body shakes.

 

 

But Suguru, Suguru doesn’t take it. His whole body quivers and his eyes unfocus. Not because of fear but because of anger.

Hot, blinding anger.

Suddenly, Suguru’s tears don't look too sorrowful.

 

Notes:

Ojou-sama - term used to describe or respectfully refer to a rich young lady, often treated like royalty.

Taka Shimada - A style of hair braiding or hairstyle sported by a bride.

 

Also, another tmi, Tsuma was the final edit of name that I have finally decided with! She was first named Takako and Sanao lol.

Chapter 9: 紅 | Beni

Summary:

Beni · Red

 

Red, closer to crimson, is a color extracted from safflower petals. It symbolizes passion, seduction, and love. It could also symbolize death.

Notes:

Hi guys! As I mentioned in the last chapter, this is one of the pivotal moments for the characters. Also! A little Satoru POV! I've seen some of the comments and you guys totally hate him (understandable, really LOL). Hopefully, this kinda explains much of his character and hopefully this redeems him a little bit haha

Again, all my thanks to everyone who still reads this <333 and here we gooooo

---

 

Suguru would say that his body moved with a mind of its own. That it was a reflex. That he was not thinking properly.

But before Tsuma could leave the room, Suguru raises his trembling hand and swiftly connects the hairpin he held to Tsuma’s neck.

It was beautiful, long, and extremely sharp.

It went right through her neck, clean.

Suguru hears a choking sound from what could simply be a shadow to him. His eyes are blurry and the omega in front of him fighting for her life becomes a smear of greys and motion—barely human, barely real.

A sound of her pain claws out of her lips, a wet gasp screeching at the silence like nails on glass.

But Tsuma doesn’t immediately fall; doesn't immediately die.

She turns to Suguru, her eyes wide and red from all the anger and blood. She tries to scream out his name but all that comes out is a gurgling sound from her lips. Her whole body violently shakes as she tries to take the pin from her neck but she fails and the red flowing from her dress glistens to where it gets caught in the light.

She tries to reach Suguru to retaliate and take a swing to catch him but her weakened legs fail her and she falls to her knees in a pool of her blood.

Suguru can smell it now, the acrid scent of her fear and panic. There is no more pride, no ego. There are now tears in her eyes, her anger now replaced with her horror.

It guilts Suguru to hear the whimpers she lets out. She gurgles the name of the alpha, repeating it until there are no more syllables that could be heard from her. Maybe she thought her alpha would come and help her. He doesn't.

Her body gives out, the pin still dislodged in her.

Suguru does not move, frozen in his spot where he stabbed her. There is still little life behind her wide, open eyes but Suguru does not move.

He refuses to.

When she draws her last breath and the scent of her death replaces the one she had before, that's when clarity hits Suguru.

He killed someone.

An imperial daughter. Satoru’s mate. His soulmate.

Suddenly, Suguru understood the weight of what he had done. Of what just happened. He looks at his hands that are caked with Tsuma’s blood and he stumbles, his feet not being able to support his weight from how hard he’s trembling.

He killed someone.

Suguru should, he should—should, he…He should ask for help, m-maybe, maybe Shoko would—Shoko would help.

No, Shoko wouldn’t. He—Shoko told him to run and he didn’t. Shoko wouldn’t help. Ome–Suguru should leave before they get to him.

Suguru is holding onto the very thin thread of sanity that he still has and yet he could not see a way out of the mess he’s in. His lungs are just not pumping enough air for him to breathe that his world starts to spin. He lets out a strong wail that only an omega could make, something he did not even care if someone could hear.

Suguru’s only option is to run. To run as fast as he could before morning comes and the clan arrives at the estate’s doorstep, only to find their god’s mate lying dead on the floor.

There was a celebration for her and the god. They would know. All of Nippon would know.

He should run now. Run, hide, anything.

But Suguru’s sobs convulse throughout his whole body and Suguru just…can't take it anymore.

Suguru–Suguru drops. The stress of his heat and the situation is so agonizing that Suguru reverts to his baser instincts and lets his omega take total control.

By then, running didn’t become an option for his omega.

He needed his alpha. That’s all he needs.

Alpha will take care of it. Alpha will comfort Suguru.

Alpha will be there.

Suguru’s mind is foggy and acts on the raw, instinctual behavior of an omega in need. He cries for his alpha, a deep guttural call of an omega in distress. His hands, red with Tsuma’s blood, rips the kimono he has on his body until he is fully naked.

There is no Suguru now to worry, no Suguru to think about what just happened. Only an omega who needs his alpha.

His pussy floods with the amount of slick he is leaking as it drips down his thighs.

He crawls out of the room, even stepping onto Tsuma’s lifeless body. Suguru doesn’t care, doesn’t look twice, doesn’t feel remorse.

All Suguru wants is his alpha, the god he knows is just inside one of these rooms.

He walks languidly and slowly on the hallway, the freezing wind blowing past him. He walks, never breaking his pace, as he tries to find his alpha through his scent and growls alone.

When Suguru arrives at the very door where his alpha is, Suguru know’s this is where he should be.

Because alpha is here and alpha will take care of him.

When Suguru opens the door, Suguru’s remaining sanity blacks out and he lets his omega be.

 

---

 

Satoru’s hands are chained on each side of the bed with his blindfold still covering his eyes.

He cannot trust himself when he is in a rut, most especially when his mate is finally here. The bindings are necessary. They are needed so that Satoru does not consume his omega like an animal. Like a god.

He is painfully hard and the chains rattle with how hard he’s pulling on it.

The only comfort Satoru has is the remaining scent his omega has left in his bed. It's faint now, even worse now that all Satoru could somehow smell is the distressed notes of his omega’s scent. Gone was the pleased scent when he clumsily arranged his pillows into a nest. Satoru could still faintly smell the scent of salt from his tears.

But Satoru cannot change the course of the past, could not change the curse that has led them here. All Satoru could do now is to wait for his omega to come to him and all Satoru would ever do is to worship the omega that fate has stolen from him.

When his omega is in his arms, not even death will relinquish his hold.

He can hear his omega on the other side of their home, the scent of his distress and wail that comes deep from his lungs. It makes him want to break the heavy chains on his wrists and scoop his omega in his arms. To tell him that alpha is here and alpha will protect. But the chains are not only there to contain him but to let the events run its course without him.

If this is what fate wanted then Satoru has ensured that his omega will come home to him no matter what.

And Satoru is right. Just on the other end of the door is his omega calling for him. Satoru’s soulmate is here. He can hear and smell his omega. They are just behind that door.

When it opens, he is hit with his scent. It is so perfect that all the scent Satoru has ever encountered in his lifetime pales in comparison. This is his. This is all Satoru has ever wanted and waited for.

It was all worth it.

But his omega’s sinful scent is stained with distress. It is mixed with someone else's disgusting scent.

It shouldn’t happen. His omega should only smell like him.

He needs to soothe him. To let his omega know that his alpha can take care of him. That he can provide, that he is worthy–the strongest there ever will be.

With that, he growls and calls on his omega to be closer to him, to feel him.

His omega, beautiful, sinful, wonderful omega, listens. The bed dips with his weight and Satoru can feel the moment when his omega’s skin touches his.

It is electrifying, like everything in the world is finally right. Satoru now feels whole, like the part missing from him has now come back home.

“Alpha,” his omega calls out, so seductive, so, so carnal that all Satoru could ever do is bury his face in the neck of his omega, the chains clacking from the force of his actions.

By this time, all Satoru could ever think about is the omega in front of him, the one destined to be one with him. The one the world so greedily took from him.

His omega.

Mine.

Satoru did not waste any time. He is gonna ravage what is rightfully his.

Without any prompting and with his hands still tied at the ends of his bed, he lets his omega sit in him fully, his pussy sitting directly at Satoru’s painfully hard cock. It is so wet that his slick feels like it's coming out in buckets. His cunt is so desperate for Satoru. To be pierced, to be filled.

To be bred.

His omega is so out of it that he rubs his pussy out in Satoru’s cock, grinding it so that he can feel pleasure from the glide it causes. He bends his back so sensually and plants his hands on Satoru’s shoulders as he moves back and forth, trying to catch that release he so wants to.

Satoru doesn’t stop him, just as happy to provide for his omega. As he grinds on him, Satoru nibbles on his omega’s neck, tracing the figure of his omega; the taste of his skin and the sweetness of his scent.

My omega is so sinful, Satoru thinks. His lips and tongue moves downwards and latches on to his Omega’s nipples. He sucks on it hard and his omega moans, his head falling on the side of Satoru’s face, moaning so hard in his ears.

“A-alpha, n-need y-you. Ah-Hah~” His omega exclaims, drunk on Satoru’s scent and delirious with pleasure.

By that point, Satoru could no longer sit idle and let his omega do all the work.

The chains strung around his wrists rattle, the force being exerted on the metal breaking it without much sweat. When his hands are free, Satoru flips his omega until his back hits the bed and Satoru ends up above him.

“A-alpha, Bite…bite.”

And before Satoru can even react, Suguru has pulled him closer and lodged his canines on the side of Satoru’s neck where the alpha’s mating gland is.

Satoru can feel the mating bite taking effect, bonding him to his omega. His curse is finally over.

If Satoru has the mind to think about it, he would remember that this is the first time he has ever bled, the first time anyone could ever be close enough to do this to him. Instead of pain and the reminder of his little humanity, all Satoru can feel is the happiness of finally reuniting with the one being that makes him whole.

Without any hesitation, Satoru removes the bindings from his eyes. The colors that he usually sees have always been there, but the vision of his mate–

His omega is beautiful.

Satoru can’t help the grin that slips past his face and the silent tears that drop from his eyes.

It is endless, the amount of tears that fall from him. A weeping god. The people would have been horrified, scared of an impending doom that might follow. But in his tears, there is a blinding smile that appears on the god’s lips as he gazes at his omega.

His hands glide to Suguru’s face, touching it with such sacred sincerity. “S-Suguru,” He calls, his voice shaking. He’s called this name before but now it feels better, like he has the right to call him his name. “Omega.”

And Suguru, called by his mate, purrs as he nuzzles into Satoru’s palm.

Finally, all to him.

Satoru couldn’t take it anymore and monopolizes his omega’s lips. His kiss is forceful and all but devours his omega.

He is so sweet. He is all mine.

His omega whimpers from the force, his tongue clumsy and all too eager. His whimpers are suppressed by Satoru who is too lost on his omega.

Drunk in his omega’s lips, his hands wander and kneed the supple skin of his omega. His hands land on the fat of his omega’s cheeks and how it feels heavy on his hands. His hips are wide and accommodating and he’s so needy that he aches to find some purchase within Satoru’s body, clinging to him so much.

When their lips parted, Satoru could see his omega in greater detail.

Suguru. My omega.

His omega is debauched and wrecked, hair sticking into his shoulders and forehead. He raises his hands to grab onto Satoru and pleads with his beautiful purple eyes.

Satoru feels like his breathing is caught in his lungs.

The image of Suguru under him is too much.

Perfect.

His cock twitches at the scene and beads of precum leak from him. He surges again to his mate’s lips, locking their mouth together, saliva connecting with how desperate they are for each other.

Slowly, Satoru’s lips travel downwards, down to his perky and sensitive nipples to his navel, creating goosebumps when Satoru breathes to it.

His omega is shaking, his whimpers so desperate and needy that Satoru couldn’t do anything but to be a servant to his omega’s needs.

His mouth arrives at his omega’s pussy and Suguru just breaks apart. His moans echo throughout the room and Satoru eats all of it. His mouth traces a long line in Suguru’s pussy while parting his fat folds and sucking on his clit. Suguru screams from the pleasure and Satoru continues to play with his cunt. Suguru’s scent smells the strongest here and Satoru could not help but want more.

“A-alpha, please,”

“What do you want, omega?”

Suguru’s so out of his mind that his pleasure becomes all too consuming for his body. He can't seem to decide what Satoru should do when his hands continue to hold Satoru’s hair to his pussy, guiding him or should he kiss him some more.

But more than anything, Suguru wants to feel his alpha inside of him.

“I–I want A-alpha. I n-need, Ah–Hah, Alpha inside me, p-please,” Suguru sobs.

And Satoru doesn't have to be told twice. He rises from Suguru’s cunt with his face wet from all the slick and moves up towards Suguru.

As his mate, Satoru can now accurately smell Suguru’s scent, the way his scent smells of his innocence. His omega is untouched and virginal. Satoru will be his first.

And rut crazed and all alpha, Satoru puffs. The idea of being the only one to taste and touch Suguru exhilarates him. He’ll be the only one to fill him, to be inside him.

Fuck. Mate. Breed.

Satoru drags Suguru closer to him by taking purchase in his thighs and grinding his hard cock to the folds of his omega’s cunt. The slick and cum making it harder to find friction to it that it slips. It frustrates Suguru, aching to stop feeling so empty. He wants to be filled and to be plugged by the alpha on top him.

All Suguru wants is to be full of his come and carry his pups. He needs to be bred and fucked and be so full it spills.

Suguru moves his hand to part his folds and grabs Satoru’s cock. He’s so desperate that he wants it in him so bad.

“Alpha, please. O-omega is empty.” He says, his tears sliding on both sides of his face.

“O-omega n-needs you in h-here,” Suguru brokenly whimpers through his tears. His hands pointing and brushing his stomach. “P-pups, inside me, please.”

And fuck if that doesnt do something to Satoru.

Before Suguru can beg some more, Satoru folds Suguru in half and raises his legs below Satoru’s arm to pin Suguru there. A mating press. Suguru’s pussy is in full display, pink and red, smooth, and so so wet.

Satoru’s cock finds Suguru’s cunt and slowly slides in him. Suguru’s pussy clenches and invites him making the glide so smooth that all they could do is respond to each other’s moan, finding comfort in the way their skin is touching each other and that Satoru is slowly inching inside the hot heat of Suguru.

“Alpha, m-more. Breed me, fuck me.”

Satoru knows his omega is strong. His omega is smart and his omega can take him. With his prompting and knowing that this is what his omega wants, Satoru drills through Suguru in one fluid motion and knocks the wind out of Suguru.

He is so big. Suguru feels the hurt and the way he stretches to accommodate his girth. But this was all Suguru has ever wanted. He can feel him in his stomach, he can feel him twitching inside him.

Satoru moves, his cock moving inside and out Suguru in a pace, dragging the moment together and languidly relishing in each other’s presence. The feeling of being inside Suguru makes Satoru want him so much more.

The steady rhythm didn’t take long until their baser instincts went in the forefront. To press Suguru in, bite him, breed him, and to fuck like mindless animals.

Satoru fucks Suguru’s pussy in an unrelenting pace, his cock hammering in and out of him that Suguru screams from the overwhelming assault to his pussy.

Satoru pounces into Suguru so deep that his thighs hit his cunt from the back and forth motion. His cock sinks so deep in Suguru’s pussy that he lavishes in the tight heat that it brings him.

Suguru is no better, screaming and moaning from the base of his tongue. His whimpers are swallowed by Satoru who dives in for a kiss, sucking and coveting his lips.

In between kisses and harsh thrusts, Satoru calls for his omega, praising him.

“You take me so good, Suguru. You feel so tight. You’re made just for me. Right, omega?”

“Yes, Alpha”, Suguru moans.

And Suguru, pure, innocent, sinful omega, always answers. His mind is hazy but not enough to ignore his alpha’s words.

Satoru cannot count the times when he just wanted to fuck Suguru stupid. To stop with his fingers when Suguru is all too eager to fuck himself on his cock. It was hard to control himself for every waking moment that they were together. It feels glorious to finally be inside him now.

“Mine, mine.”

For the first time in Satoru’s life, he feels thankful to a higher being that may never be there above him. Maybe that higher being is now Suguru with how all Satoru will do now is worship his mate. To make him feel like the god in between his thighs is simply a servant for his will and pleasure.

“This pussy is mine. You’re mine,” Satoru grunts in his ear. His hands in Suguru’s waist are now painful, gripping his body tight that it leaves marks on his body. Instead of being uncomfortable, Suguru relishes in it.

“Yours, alpha. Only yours,” Suguru mindlessly answers, continuous whimpers spilling out of his mouth. His hands wrap around Satoru’s neck, further closing the gap between them.

His omega’s words further fuel Satoru and fucks Suguru within an inch of his life. He can see the imprint of his cock drilling into Suguru’s belly. The way his stomach distends from his cock pistoning inside Suguru that Suguru has become incoherent, cock and scent drunk from the attention he is getting.

Satoru feels that Suguru is close, his tears becoming a steady stream with his hands clawing harder on his back to chase his release. Satoru fucks his omega faster, his pace getting faster and faster, making every moment too much for Suguru’s frail and overstimulated body.

When Suguru cums, slick pours out of Suguru and Satoru feels the base of his knot forming as he feels himself coming close.

Overstimulated, Suguru lets his body be used as Satoru chases his own release. He’s so spent that his body is still twitching from the way he came. Satoru’s knot is getting bigger, getting caught in each thrust as he fucks Suguru even more.

When Satoru comes to a stuttering pace, Suguru can feel his alpha’s hot cum deep inside of him, filling him up. His knot plugs Suguru’s pussy so perfectly that all Suguru could do is purr. The instinctual action of an omega who is satisfied, who is happy.

All Satoru could ever do is hold Suguru closer until his knot comes down. When it does, Satoru has nothing on his mind other than fucking Suguru within an inch of his life again.

 

---

 

During their cycle, Satoru could not count the amount of times he came inside Suguru. He had Suguru on his back, in front, sideways, and riding him. Suguru is so full of his seed that when his knot goes down, his cum spills out from him, the volume of it being too much for his body to keep.

It always brings Suguru to a panic, his distress rising from his scent that he tries to scoop the cum flowing out of him back inside his pussy.

All Satoru could do is to placate and fuck him stupid again.

When Suguru is satisfied and fast asleep in his arms, Satoru can continue to ogle at his omega. At his hips, his stomach, his thighs. Even his scars, his old wounds, and the ones he might have never wanted Satoru to see.

Satoru can feel the jagged shape of a scar on his mate’s nape where his bite should be. He’s thought about biting him, completing the bond that they both have. But Satoru is lucid enough to think it through. He wants his omega to be coherent. When his fangs connect to Suguru’s neck, he wants Suguru to know.

Suguru bit Satoru because he needed it, and Satoru obliged.

But Satoru will wait because that is what both of them need.

Instead, Satoru resorts to nibbling that part of his mate, sucking and holding him, all to feel it within his hands how close he is to his omega. When their cycle ends, all Satoru will ever do is provide for his mate until his fangs connect to his omega’s gland.

Their cycle lasted for three days. Satoru has never felt happier than he ever was.

 

---

 

When Satoru wakes, he wakes from a scream.

He is alone in his room with their bed a mess and his kimono gone. The scent of his mate is slowly growing faint and Satoru cannot sense him close to the estate.

He dresses and exits the room, going to the commotion of where the sharp scream came from. He doesn't care whatever the fuck is happening. His omega is gone and Satoru for the life of him doesn't know where he is because he didn’t bite him.

“Where is my omega?” He asks, his voice heavy and his scent menacing.

But the owner of the voice is still in hysterics, “S-satoru-sama! Sh-she’s dead!” She says in between her sobs, kneeling over to what Satoru can see is a dark red stain on his floor.

There is a little crowd forming in the room made of the woman and Satoru’s attendants. He can see the tight look on their faces and the undisguised horror of looking at the corpse on their feet.

He didn’t even see the random dead woman sprawled on the ground, more concerned with other pressing matters like his missing mate. But here it is and it is ugly on Satoru's floor.

The omega is sprawled lifeless with her dead carcass abhorrent to the nose. Her blood has already turned brown and it is clear that she has been dead for some days. There is a gleaming hairpin on her neck, the slice being the deepest among many others. Satoru can feel the anger and strength between each stab, the woman’s head almost detached from her body.

“I–I was supposed to check on you and her, K-kami-sama! To spread word of your mating, b-but she–she was dead when I found her!”

She continues to wail, her hand hovering close as if unsure whether to touch the dead body or not. “What am I to do, Kami-sama? I—the clan asked me to come here, the imperial palace and the elders, too. How could I say that the imperial princess is dead? I—Kami-sama, how?”

Satoru pays her squabble no mind, instead looking at Nanami.

“Nanami?” He asks.

The other alpha looks to the god, his face grim and quiet. He shakes his head. “She was dead when I arrived, Gojo-sama.”

“—I-It was that beta! That disgusting beta! He killed her, Kami-sama! T-the empress, you–your mate!”

Ah.

Suguru did this.

For him.

Satoru cannot explain the inexplicable happiness that surges towards him. His omega did this. Pride swells from his chest and flows throughout his scent. He cannot help the smile that flashes through his lips even if he can help it.

My omega is strong, my omega did this for me. Strong omega, strong for pups.

Suddenly, the image of the dead woman doesn’t look too gruesome. Even the fly that circles on her eyes. It felt like a gift, a show of how strong and beautiful his omega is. Suguru is just too beautiful, too wonderful.

The change in his demeanor does not go unnoticed by the people in the room.

“Ka–kami-sama?” The clan member asks, her face showing absolute confusion in the situation.

But Satoru cannot dwell long on the pride and satisfaction he is feeling. Suguru is still missing. And without a bite in his omega’s neck, Satoru cannot sense him through his bond.

“Find him,” Satoru tells the clan member and the servants who have been with him for years. This is the only time he has seen their faces since he was young. They have grown, just as Satoru has.

“He could not be far down the mountain. Bring him to me, and do not lay a hand on him.” Satoru tells them, his scent communicating the finality of his decision.

“Suguru-sama must be halfway through the mountain if he left earlier this morning. Farther if he left a day before.” Nanami answers and his use of honorifics is apparent to everyone in the room.

“S-sama? How i–insolent! How could you call him that? That—that animal!” The woman answers, scandalized. 

“Please, Kami-sama! H-he killed your mate! He has committed treason! H-he should be hanged!” The member exclaims, her body shaking as she continues to widen her eyes at the girl lying dead on the floor.

Looking at the corpse, Satoru can see why this woman is hysterical about her demise. But unfortunately, in the eyes of the god, it has simply become a beautiful gift from his omega.

And the threat of his mate did not fall on deaf ears.

Without warning, the room lacked air to breathe and intense energy swirled around them.

It reminded them once again that Satoru was a god and as mortals, they could not begin to understand the kind of power and dominion he has.

He aimed his hand at no one. But all of them knew that if Satoru wanted to, no one would come out of it alive. They’d all be the same as the imperial daughter. Dead and with no one who cares. Her title is nothing but just a word.

“If you do not want all of Nippon to burn, bring me my omega back,” Satoru says, leaving them behind, the bite on his neck more apparent.

“And as for her, throw her body or burn it. I don’t want my omega to see that when he comes home.”

 

---

 

When Suguru woke up, his heat is long gone. He had no recollection of what happened. All he knows is that he’s never felt more happy and satisfied in his life. He couldn’t help the purr that escapes his lips.

A hand is drawn across his waist, tight as if afraid to let go. Their small breaths tickle and puff in and out close to his ear. Suguru has never felt this comfort and security after his heat. He can't help but savor the moment and further bury himself in the sheets.

But when the scent of the alpha hit Suguru’s nose, all the happiness he previously felt is suddenly replaced by fear, deep dread coursing through his entire body.

He climbed onto Satoru’s bed and…

And there is a dead body of Satoru’s mate just a few doors away from his room.

Fear crept into Suguru’s body and he could only cover his neck to stop his scent from spreading. He could wake Satoru up. Suguru doesn’t know if he wants that.

In the position Satoru has, Suguru can see the faint and fresh wound of a mating bite that Satoru has on his neck. Suguru cannot help the happiness that his omega feels, how prideful it is that he has staked his claim on the alpha they wanted.

But his fangs were never supposed to bite Satoru. As his hands glide to his own nape, unchanged, overwhelming sadness pours over him when it remained the same. His eyes remained seeing black and white.

Suguru cannot help the tears that pour out of his face. His lips curl to muffle his sobs and whimpers.

Suguru knows he cannot be mated but it hurts all the same.

Most importantly, he has debased the bed of an alpha, of a god. He climbed into his bed, took advantage of him and killed someone in his own home.

Killed his mate. His omega.

Suguru…Suguru will be dead when Satoru wakes up.

There is a deep, horrid dread that Suguru is feeling, like his chest has changed into a baggage full of stones. Suguru feels like he is drowning, his tears becoming the very sea he will drown in.

However, it does not go unnoticed to the alpha who, by his actions, mistakes what Suguru is going through as a distressed signal from his mate.

“Omega,” Satoru murmurs, holding Suguru tighter than he already is, pushing his face more deeply in the strands of Suguru’s hair. “Don’t worry. Alpha will take care of you.”

He snakes his hand to Suguru’s cunt and pushes his fingers in. “Alpha will fill you up again.”

“I’ll breed you full of me, I promise.” He kisses Suguru’s forehead.

All Suguru could do was swallow hard and close his eyes tight. He couldn’t help the embarrassment and dread that he both feels at the same time. Suguru didn’t even notice how full he feels. How truly full he is of Satoru’s cum that he’s still leaking from it.

The god’s fingers are literally still inside Suguru, his fingers acting like a plug to keep his cum inside him.

But as attentive as the god is right now, Suguru knows that all will change when he sees who he is in bed with. Suguru wishes he could continue such fantasy but the punishment of his sins seems to have caught up with him.

This is truly the time for him to run, flee. Suguru can never come back. 

Without waking Satoru up, he selfishly steals a kiss from Satoru who gives him a small smile at the gesture. Satoru’s too deep in sleep to know who kissed him and what it means.

When he detangled himself from Satoru, he picks up the alpha’s kimono and runs.

 

 

Notes:

Have i told you Satoru is literally worse than Suguru? HE WILL GET WORSE LOL

To clarify, Suguru experienced something called an Omega Drop, a concept close to Sub Drops wherein the omega just totally takes total control of the body.

The girl in this scene is also the same girl from last time; she's kinda like a messenger from the clan. she's also a little bit of a bitch.

Also, idk if you noticed but Suguru and Satoru's description of Tsuma's dead body is totally different! I think it speaks about Suguru's mental capacity at that time and how he might still be looking at the scene through a less "angered" lens.

Lastly, was this the Satoru you had in mind? HAHAHA the last part with the misunderstanding was just something I wanted to add just to be fun lol. kinda cute in my opinion

Anyways until next time!

Chapter 10: 白銀 | Shirogane

Summary:

Shirogane · Silver

security, modesty, maturity

Notes:

Hi, everyone!

A lot happened during this month, all of which i hated lol

But this chapter came a lot earlier than I expected so atleast there's that HAHA
Anyways, all my love, here's chap 10!

---

Suguru has never been slow in his life.

He hasn’t stopped running since he got away from the god’s arms. Suguru doesn’t even know where this sudden spark of will to live came from. Maybe adrenaline, he doesn’t know.

All Suguru can feel is the ache of being snatched away from his own nest and alpha. His omega is confused why he’s running away from the victory they have deserved.

But then again, Suguru feels like he’s been splashed with cold water to face reality. His victory was simply an estranged and warped version of his sin. All Suguru did was make a crime out of his devotion, his life not even enough to pay for it.

And so Suguru runs, even when his body wants to give out and the remnants of their tryst are still evident on his thighs.

He couldn’t cry, couldn’t even have a slight whimper past his lips. He needs to leave the mountain. Even when Suguru’s body screams of an omega in heat, he has to come back to the beta slave he was his whole life.

And so Suguru runs. He doesn’t break pace.

Suguru knows how to hide and he knows how to leave without being caught. As a slave who’s been passed to different owners in his life, Suguru knows when and how to run away.

He knows to avoid the open grass even when it's easier on his bare feet. He knows to follow the flows of the water and that the animals would be too scared to attack him with his scent screaming of an alpha. He knows that nightfall would be deadly for him and that there would be no chance of escape if Suguru gives the clan a chance to find him.

He might not be alive by then to face Satoru once again.

By now, Suguru knows the alpha is awake, knows that people are already trying to catch him. Maybe even by Satoru himself. It makes his heart beat faster, his fear slowly becoming all too consuming.

Suguru wishes he has the time to sob over his pain and be guilty over what has happened. But Suguru can’t and his bleeding feet won’t stop as well.

It was too late to notice when he crashed into the figure in front of him.

 

Utahime couldn’t brace herself from the impact of what felt like being thrown out by a brick wall. As she looks at what she crashed into, she sees a feral omega ready to bite her head off.

“Who are you?” The omega shouts, his hackles raised, his posture tense. He looks ready to kill her.

“I—” She couldn’t even string a coherent word to spare her life. She might be a beta, but this omega is stronger than her, bigger than her. And just by looking at him, Utahime knows she could kill her if he has to.

“I said, who are you?” The omega asks again, now looking more scared than he was angry. “Are you from one of the clans?”

Utahime gets a good look at the omega, sparing a single moment against her life that she could’ve used to flee.

He looks afraid, terrified. The kimono he’s wearing is too big on him, dragging on his feet and sagging on his shoulders. Utahime can guess he’s not wearing anything beneath it. She can see traces of what has happened to him. He smells of cum, slick, and fear.

Against rationality, it didn't take much internal deliberation for Utahime to help him.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I can help. I won’t do anything to you.” She tries to placate the trembling figure.

It does nothing to convince him.

“I’m not afraid of you,” He says, trying to make himself much bigger, scarier. “I can kill you. I won’t hesitate. I will.”

“I’m not from one of the clans.” She reasons out softly. “You can smell it on me. I’m no one around here.”

“You don’t know the mountains like I do. You’re trying to flee from someone, right? I can help.”

Utahime doesn’t know what convinced him; maybe it doesn’t matter. But his pheromones lessened, and Utahime took that as her only chance.

“I won’t do anything, I promise.” And with that, she swiftly slapped mud on the omega’s scent glands and ran to the east.

 

---

 

They arrive after three days.

It felt like a blur to Suguru, longer and shorter at the same time. Suguru felt disgusting (more than he usually feels) with cum between his thighs and mud drying in his scent glands.

When he was ushered to shower, Suguru could only stare at the water. He’s dirty and he wants to be clean, badly, but the knowledge that Satoru’s remaining scent will be washed off makes him want to throw up.

He stayed dry in that room for a while. Even then, when he dared to erase the remaining scent of the god on him, he had to desperately stop the woman from throwing the kimono he stole. She could only look at him with undisguised pity.

"I won't throw it. You can have it after." Utahime breathes long and hard, though she tries not to make it obvious to him. "I'll only wash it with water. Some of the scent will still remain." 

“You can stay there,” She points to the room bare of belongings. “Take your rest.”

She closes the door with a small thud.

He climbs on his bed, smaller than what he had in the estate, lonelier. He embraces himself with his knees close to his chest. Suguru’s gaze is far, unfocused. There is nothing in his eyes anymore. Nothing.

He feels pain and sadness in his chest, so debilitating that it almost feels like a knife grinding in his chest. Somehow, it feels foreign to his own overwhelming emotions.

He couldn’t sleep that night. 

Foolishly, with all his heart, he misses his alpha.

 

---

 

On the first day of his stay, they left Suguru alone. They fed and bathed him and gave him space since Suguru clearly needed it.

By the third day, he learned people's names. Utahime was the beta woman who helped her. In the same roof, there was Miguel, who was an alpha, Larue, a beta, and Manami and Toshihisa, who were omegas.

Suguru knows that Utahime has shared what happened to him simply by how they’re handling Suguru like fragile china. There is pity in their face but there is also understanding. Their lives were not too kind to them, either.

"Please, consider this your home, Suguru-san," Larue says softly. "Life has not been good to us but this can be a great start for you."

"Thank you, Larue-san." He says with a small smile. 

“You’re an omega, right?” one of them asks.

“N-no, I’m a beta.” He lies, meekly. But even Suguru knows it’s not convincing enough to anyone.

“Was it a secret? You should know your scent blockers aren’t working. Your scent is leaking.”

“I—...” He trails out but gives up on lying. “Is my scent bothering you? I don’t have anything to mask my scent right now.”

Manami, the omega with strawberry blonde hair, speaks. “Ah, no, no. Actually, Suguru-san your scent is very…” She blushes, “Nice.”

"You're beautiful, Suguru-san," Toshihisa says with a light blush on his cheeks. 

"Yes!" Manami exclaims, "You're so pretty!"

“Ahh…” Suguru doesn’t even know how to answer. Suguru has never gotten this reaction before. 

"Are you a clan omega, Suguru-san?" Miguel coughs, "If you don't mind answering."

"Ah, no, I am just a commoner."

“Ah, I was certain you were. You smell like those flowers abundant in the mountains, close to god's domain.” Miguel says. “You smell like a prized clan’s omega. better, even.”

Suguru could only look at the small gathering with a confused face. He couldn’t guess if they’re mocking Suguru or if they’re simply being honest with him.

And yet it feels too honest, too sincere to be lies.

Sensing his discomfort, Utahime playfully interjects. “Yes, yes, whatever, everyone. Leave him be. You’re stifling him.”

Suguru gives her a shy smile. She returns it.

They all talk for a while, an easy conversation that flowed freely between all of them. Suguru listened more than he talked but he felt at ease with them. He remembers the same feeling he had with the first family he considered to have.

Do they know what Suguru has done by now?

“You don’t have to be so shocked that they’re taken by you, you know,” Utahime says. They’re the only ones left in the room now, the others leaving towards their own businesses.

“You’re pretty and kind, it's not truly a question why.” She continues, “They mean well, but I’ll tell them to stop if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“No-no, it’s okay. I do not mind.” Suguru flushes, unaccustomed to the compliment. “It’s just something new. That’s all.”

“I doubt that.” Utahime smiles. 

Suguru turns to the window and looks to the open fields of the east. 

“I haven’t said thank you for that day in the mountains.” He looks at her. “Thank you for helping me. You had no obligation to help me. I was feral, I could’ve hurt you. Thank you, I owe you my life.”

She doesn’t say anything but she gives Suguru a small smile, an indication that she understands him, that she knows he’s thankful for it. Suguru could only look at her in gratitude.

They lapse into a comfortable silence, no words left to say for the time being. It's comforting and he appreciates his time with her. But as it drags on, the silence lets Suguru’s mind wander. It does not fail to find its home to the alpha he left behind.

Utahime breaks that silence.

“Your worries, it is written all over your face.” She says with a small shake of her head. “Whatever it is, it is not your fault.”

“You don’t even know what I did or why I ran away.”

It does not deter her. “I do not need to know.”

Somehow, it shames Suguru enough to feel misty in the eyes. He doesn’t want to twist the story, to paint himself a victim in any way.

He killed a girl and then slept with her alpha. Who is Suguru to get sympathy?

He swallows, his words getting caught heavy in his throat. “I’m no victim. It was evil. I’ve done something evil. If you did not help and I died on that mountain, I would have deserved it.”

“I don’t think an omega could ever be evil or selfish enough to deserve such a fate,” Utahime argues.

“What was it for then?” Utahime asks. “If it was so evil, who was it for? If such a crime could be done, it has to be for someone.”

Suguru does not answer, avoiding her gaze. But even then, Utahime did not need to hear his answer. A lot of omegas fall for it, day by day, like a curse that eats itself but never dies.

Love.

It’s awful, truly. She could never see herself falling for it.

“Whatever it is, you do not need to divulge just because you’re here. You don’t owe me that.” Utahime says, “I did not help you because I thought you were innocent. We are not saints in this place. None of us tries to be. No one could care less about it.”

Suguru nods but he did not meet her eyes again that day.

 

---

 

By the next few days, Utahime has offered him a place to stay and a job. He does not have to run away again, and for that, Suguru is infinitely gracious. This place is far enough; maybe he can make a life here.

Suguru cleans and that is all he does day in and day out. He has offered to take labour-heavy jobs but somehow everyone protested against him and was told to just wipe some dust or sweep some floors. The place is not small, but it is no bigger than the estate. That being said, it does not mean there is less to clean. Some rooms are dirty and unmade, there are unarranged chairs, and there is a big hall in the center of it all.

The place is all closed doors and dark corners. It feels like it has secrets that are precious enough to only stay behind those doors.

But as Suguru learns from his mistakes, he continues to do his job despite not knowing what this place is.

But maybe he should have.

 

“Okaa-san?” The stranger calls to him.

The man looks like he has seen a ghost. Suguru knows he’s looking the same, too. The alpha gasps and he feels irrational fear shoot up his spine.

“Okaa-san, I can't believe it. You’re here with me.” The man stares at him, his wide eyes not breaking contact. He’s sweating so much and he’s exuding his pheromones in excess. “You have blessed me, Okaa-san. I have prayed for this for so long. Please, I—let me touch you.”

“N-no, you are mistaken. I’m—I only clean here.” He whispers, his voice stuttering as he moves away from the man.

“No, Okaa-san, you have blessed me. This means you have chosen me. I am the honored one.” There are tears in the alpha’s eyes now, his breathing labored like he’s salivating.

“You smell so sweet, Okaa-san. Do not be afraid of me, you have chosen me.”

Suguru knows his pheromones are leaking now, his fear spreading through his scent. He doesn’t know this man and he’s looking at Suguru like he’s seen a god. The room is dark and there is no one around them.

The man is growing restless, his pheromones clogging Suguru’s nose. He doesn’t know this man and though Suguru knows he can defend himself, the reminder of what he’s done to Tsuma stops him, his hands shaking so much. 

When is it reasonable to raise your hand? To spill blood? 

There isn't even a good reason for it but Suguru's hands remain by his side, limp. 

Before the man could reach him, Utahime and Larue stumbles into the room. They could see Suguru backed into a corner and they immediately hold the man away from him.

As he’s held off by the two betas, he continues to plead to Suguru. “No, Okaa-san, please! Please, I just—”

He struggles, trying to get off both betas. As he’s being dragged off, the man relents and continues to call him "Okaa-san". All Suguru could do is stare as the man's tears fall from his cheeks endlessly.

All Suguru could do is look on with wide eyes as he tries to will the shake of his hands away.

Suguru did not even realise that Utahime had come back for him again.

“Suguru, are you okay?”

 

After that situation happened, Utahime explains to him what this place is.

A cult.

Utahime explains the work that they do, how the hall turns into a place of worship at night for those who believe in the Mother of Curses.

“They say the Mother of Curses was the counterpart of the White Scaled Dragon. His followers believe he will come back to the land and grant the wishes of those most loyal to him. They even believe that when he comes back he will take a mortal alpha to bear his pups. Others say he’s stronger than the dragon, some say he’s the dragon’s omega.”

“That’s why he called you Okaa-san. You resembled him.” Utahime tells him as she hands him a painting of this figure.

Suguru takes a better look at the image, at the omega in front of him with a pose that makes him blush, he can see his resemblance to it.

“I’m sorry about what happened last night. That man won’t come back again. You have my word for it.” Utahime tells him, her gaze apologetic.

Suguru does not immediately answer Utahime, unsure of the words that might spill from his mouth. Maybe he can repay her by doing this. 

“Would you want me to play him?”

 

With that, there was a change in Suguru’s work.

Suguru still works in the morning. He cleans, dusts the rooms, and fixes the chairs in a straight line. Almost like a mirror to his own work at the estate.

But at night, he changes into clothes that are uncomfortable to him. He takes an entrance in front of thirty to fifty men who look at Suguru with reverie, worship, and lust. It is an uncomfortable feeling for him, to be ogled and perceived in ways he could not understand. 

He sits in front of the stage, covered by a thin cloth he requested from Utahime. Miguel and Larue stand on both his sides like a barrier, and until the sun rises again, Suguru entertains these men from behind the cloth in exchange for donations to the cause.

“All rise, to the Mother of Curses!”

And like clockwork, Suguru plays another character unlike who he truly is.

 

---

 

A month passes by.

Suguru smiles at the people he has grown close with and he has adjusted little by little to the act he plays at night.

There is no repeat of what happened that fateful night and for that, Suguru is grateful.

But Suguru is haunted.

In the early week he arrived in this place, the celebration of the god’s mating is all he hears from the town.

“Kami-sama has found his mate!”

“It was a Zenin! Their children would be wonderful!”

“I cannot wait to see them in a ceremony in Shinshinden!”

“Prosperity, it awaits us. This union would save Nippon.”

“The gods have answered my prayers!”

Children, adults, couples, Full-Spirited individuals and Shadowed Souls alike all had the same thing on their lips. It did not matter that Suguru had run far away enough; the news of their mating had still touched all corners of Nippon. How wonderful it is that their deity has finally found his omega. It is a celebration, a once-in-a-lifetime festivity that no one wants to miss.

It is a sign of the wealth, prosperity, and riches that await everyone.

(Maybe for all other than Suguru. They did not know that their deity was choking in her own blood a few days ago.)

The celebration stretched for a long time. The longest of anything Nippon has ever celebrated. But the happiness Nippon was feeling did not last long.

That happiness eventually turned into confusion. Where are the gods? Where is the holy omega? There was no news from the clan, no sighting of the mates. Instead, people spoke in secret, in whispers.

“No one has seen Kami-sama’s omega…”

“The emperor has been ill. They said it's because of his daughter.”

“The gojo clan has been everywhere. Why do you think…”

“They say she’s gone, maybe she ran away. She—”

“Who in their right mind would run away from Kami-sama.”

And then the wildfires ate the mountains in the north, the floods drowned homes in the south, and the recent earthquake in the west cracked fields and roads. In all the tragedy that has happened in such a short amount of time, all people could truly say is;

“Too many died. We could not count.”

Suguru would not think this is all his fault if not for the partial bond he now shares with Satoru.

Ever since Suguru left, he can feel the god through the bond.

Anger, rage, and sadness. Suguru feels all of it.

Some days, a tear that's not his own would fall from his eyes as an overwhelming surge of sadness flows over the partial bond he has with the god. It is a plea for his omega. All Suguru could do is wipe his cheeks and not let his guilt and pain be clear to the others.

(There are days when he does not know whose tears touch his cheeks. Satoru’s, his, maybe even a mixture of theirs.)

Sometimes it is also anger, an all-consuming rage that manifests in a burden so heavy in his chest. The god’s wrath is debilitating and powerful. Suguru sometimes feels like he could burn forests with it. But as strong as this anger is, it almost always ends in defeat.

Satoru feels hopeless, crazed, and desperate.

But since the bond is incomplete, Satoru could not feel him and Satoru could not find him.

What, if not the pain of a god, to be the thing that causes the end of the world?

When Suguru is alone, he lets himself grieve. He lets himself be selfish over his sins and cries.

Suguru would lie in his bed and just stare into nothingness. He feels Satoru through the bond. He can feel his overwhelming anger and sadness through it. He calls for his mate, desperately so.

But Suguru already robbed the dragon of that happiness. He could never be with his omega again. All Suguru can feel is the longing and desperation the god has for his mate. Suguru could not help the guilty tears that fall from his eyes. How could he ever make up for such a transgression against a god? How could he have the right to leave and hide?

Satoru truly loves his mate. Suguru knows this by the way Satoru’s heart is at the mercy of Suguru’s freedom.

His tears won’t do anything to change his mistakes. Even his very own tears, he doesn’t deserve it. He only hopes that with time, Suguru’s bite on Satoru-sama's neck fades. When it does (Suguru does not know if it will), Suguru hopes Satoru has it in himself to forgive. Even when it seems impossible. Even when Suguru robbed the god of closure by running away.

When (If) the bite fades and Suguru is still alive, he still hopes to see him at a distance. Truly, only as a god to revere and not as the one Suguru desires.

It is foolish, but it simply feels like living without air.

Suguru does not know how he’ll continue like this. Maybe there is no difference if he escaped or not. For both Satoru and him, the ache may never truly end.

 

---

 

The cult business is good. The money is endless and the men are foolish enough not to see behind the farce. Suguru continues to be a deity with a tongue too sharp-witted for what he truly is.

But the four corners of Suguru’s new home is not without its debauchery. When the time of Suguru’s worship is done, these men freely pick an omega or beta of their choice. For the right amount of gold, they may be able to take them to bed.

This is why they have rooms.

“This is not a red light district,” Utahime tells him. “We do not force them to fuck these men. Their decision is entirely theirs. We only provide them a space where they can be safe.”

“Only a blind man would say that. You encourage them, you let them.” He retorts.

Utahime purses her lips. “It may be so. But we could only provide so much. In here, at least they can say no.”

Both of them know that desperation leads you to say yes when it is often the opposite. But even though Suguru could offer to share his cut of the gold he receives, it is not enough and it could never equal the amount offered by the men who want to defile them.

It often makes him wonder how much he would be.

(The image of his mother would flash to him, and he thinks there might be no greater amount of money that can convince him.)

These trysts often end in the dead of night.

A man walks out of one of their rooms, disheveled, smelling like a satisfied omega (or two). Frankly, he did not fit the look of the typical monsters Suguru has grown to despise. For one, he looked capable. He is big and muscular, bigger than Larue or even Miguel. He did not look like he cared about money, or have enough to share with a “whore”. And he looked decent; he did not look like it would be hard for him to find someone to share a bed with.

But his eyes are dead and empty. The scar on his lips only adds to the menacing aura that follows him.

He looks dangerous and is a clear alpha, and yet, he has no scent, only those of the omegas he has clearly fucked.

And whose omegas smelled like they loved every second of it.

It was not Suguru’s intention to stare. But he stared long and hard trying to see who this man is behind his contradictions.

It didn’t take long for the alpha to notice what he’s doing.

And as he walked, his strides long and with purpose, they did not break contact. In some ways, Suguru did not want to lose. He wasn’t Suguru right now, he is the Mother of Curses. This man walking closer to him is simply a man. 

“Jiro, this is not your whorehouse.”

“Yeah, yeah, they’ll cover anything I broke.” This “Jiro” tells Utahime, looking at Suguru until he turns his back on them when he has already passed them for the door.

“That is not the point, you fucking manwhore.” Utahime fumes.

The man decides not to answer her anymore, only giving a dismissive hand before he’s out the door.

“Do not mind him,” Utahime tells him without much thought. “He comes and goes. He’s not here for the cult, either, so there's no need to humor him or what.”

“He’s here for other things then,” Suguru says with his eyebrows heavy.

“Unfortunately, the omegas love him. They’re the ones who ask for him.” Utahime scowls, “Broken too much shit in here.”

“Anyway, people were saying some clan members are getting close around here.” There is hatred in her eyes. “Coming around here like they own everything. This isn’t good for the business.” Utahime gives him a sly smile. “I mean, we are quite the antithesis of that pompous clan.”

However, Suguru could not share the same condescending humor Utahime is having. All Suguru could think about is how the mating gland in his neck might be hurting for a reason and why his tears flow even when he is asleep. 

 

After that, there was nothing more to say about Jiro. Suguru’s initial curiosity eventually died down. Even then, it didn’t amount to the growing anxiety that maybe the god is getting closer to him. It is a conflicting emotion to love and fear the same man. 

But sitting down in front of everyone while Suguru’s devotees are kneeling, he can see Jiro leaning on one of the pillars, looking at Suguru like he’s examining him, inspecting him.

It felt different than the ones he usually receives; lustful, stripping, and disrespectful.

He’s looking at Suguru like he wants to peel off his layers and take apart the careful secrets Suguru has built, which are the foundation of his entire life here.

He smiles, a smirk really, and Suguru could not help but be vexed with it.

"Did you hear that a Gojo clan member was lurking on the eastern border?"

"There was another fire down the mountains. They say it just came out of nowhere."

Between the god and this man, Suguru just wants to throw up everything he ate that night. 

Notes:

How was it? *twinking my eyes*

I know there's not much going on here, but I needed to lay out some details before we got plot heavy. And who is this Jiro fellah, tbh wtf. hmmm hmmm

Also, I wanted to share my disappointment in the ongoing discourse about stsg in twt. Its almost like a monthly subscription you have to avail in order to interact with a corner of the fandom. But then again, I realize I could just close that god forsaken app and focus on my work where my princess is getting dicked down and gojo looks like a hulking, towering monster with 3 legs so who cares. Lol this is a ramble but I NEEDED TO GET IT OUT

Again, all my love and all my gratitude, thanks for everything <3